Plutarch's Lives
by
Plutarch
Edited by A.H. Clough
# THESEUS
# ROMULUS
# COMPARISON OF ROMULUS WITH THESEUS
# LYCURGUS
# NUMA POMPILIUS
# COMPARISON OF NUMA WITH LYCURGUS
# SOLON
# POPLICOLA
# COMPARISON OF POPLICOLA WITH SOLON
# THEMISTOCLES
# CAMILLUS
# PERICLES
# FABIUS
# COMPARISON OF PERICLES WITH FABIUS
# ALCIBIADES
# CORIOLANUS
# COMPARISON OF ALCIBIADES WITH CORIOLANUS
# TIMOLEON
# AEMILIUS PAULUS
# COMPARISON OF TIMOLEON WITH AEMILIUS PAULUS
# PELOPIDAS
# MARCELLUS
# COMPARISION OF PELOPIDAS WITH MARCELLUS
# ARISTIDES
# MARCUS CATO
# COMPARISON OF ARISTIDES WITH MARCUS CATO.
# PHILOPOEMEN
# FLAMININUS
# COMPARISON OF PHILOPOEMEN WITH FLAMININUS
# PYRRHUS
# CAIUS MARIUS
# LYSANDER
# SYLLA
# COMPARISON OF LYSANDER WITH SYLLA
# CIMON
# LUCULLUS
# COMPARISON OF LUCULLUS WITH CIMON
# NICIAS
# CRASSUS
# COMPARISON OF CRASSUS WITH NICIAS
# SERTORIUS
# EUMENES
# COMPARISON OF SERTORIUS WITH EUMENES
# AGESILAUS
# POMPEY
# COMPARISON OF POMPEY AND AGESILAUS
# ALEXANDER
# CAESAR
# PHOCION
# CATO THE YOUNGER
# AGIS
# CLEOMENES
# TIBERIUS GRACCHUS
# CAIUS GRACCHUS
# COMPARISON OF TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS WITH AGIS AND CLEOMENES
# DEMOSTHENES
# CICERO
# COMPARISON OF DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO
# DEMETRIUS
# ANTONY
# COMPARISON OF DEMETRIUS AND ANTONY
# DION
# MARCUS BRUTUS
# COMPARISON OF DION AND BRUTUS
# ARATUS
# ARTAXERXES
# GALBA
# OTHO
THESEUS
As geographers, Sosius, crowd into the edges of their maps parts of the
world which they do not know about, adding notes in the margin to the
effect, that beyond this lies nothing but sandy deserts full of wild
beasts, unapproachable bogs, Scythian ice, or a frozen sea, so, in this
work of mine, in which I have compared the lives of the greatest men
with one another, after passing through those periods which probable
reasoning can reach to and real history find a footing in, I might very
well say of those that are farther off, Beyond this there is nothing
but prodigies and fictions, the only inhabitants are the poets and
inventors of fables; there is no credit, or certainty any farther. Yet,
after publishing an account of Lycurgus the lawgiver and Numa the king,
I thought I might, not without reason, ascend as high as to Romulus,
being brought by my history so near to his time. Considering therefore
with myself
Whom shall I set so great a man to face?
Or whom oppose? who's equal to the place?
(as Aeschylus expresses it), I found none so fit as him that peopled
the beautiful and far-famed city of Athens, to be set in opposition
with the father of the invincible and renowned city of Rome. Let us
hope that Fable may, in what shall follow, so submit to the purifying
processes of Reason as to take the character of exact history. In any
case, however, where it shall be found contumaciously slighting
credibility, and refusing to be reduced to anything like probable fact,
we shall beg that we may meet with candid readers, and such as will
receive with indulgence the stories of antiquity.
Theseus seemed to me to resemble Romulus in many particulars. Both of
them, born out of wedlock and of uncertain parentage, had the repute of
being sprung from the gods.
Both warriors; that by all the world's allowed.
Both of them united with strength of body an equal vigor mind; and of
the two most famous cities of the world the one built Rome, and the
other made Athens be inhabited. Both stand charged with the rape of
women; neither of them could avoid domestic misfortunes nor jealousy at
home; but towards the close of their lives are both of them said to
have incurred great odium with their countrymen, if, that is, we may
take the stories least like poetry as our guide to the truth.
The lineage of Theseus, by his father's side, ascends as high as to
Erechtheus and the first inhabitants of Attica. By his mother's side he
was descended of Pelops. For Pelops was the most powerful of all the
kings of Peloponnesus, not so much by the greatness of his riches as
the multitude of his children, having married many daughters to chief
men, and put many sons in places of command in the towns round about
him. One of whom named Pittheus, grandfather to Theseus, was governor
of the small city of the Troezenians, and had the repute of a man of
the greatest knowledge and wisdom of his time; which then, it seems,
consisted chiefly in grave maxims, such as the poet Hesiod got his
great fame by, in his book of Works and Days. And, indeed, among these
is one that they ascribe to Pittheus,--
Unto a friend suffice
A stipulated price;
which, also, Aristotle mentions. And Euripides, by calling Hippolytus "
scholar of the holy Pittheus," shows the opinion that the world had of
him.
Aegeus, being desirous of children, and consulting the oracle of
Delphi, received the celebrated answer which forbade him the company of
any woman before his return to Athens. But the oracle being so obscure
as not to satisfy him that he was clearly forbid this, he went to
Troezen, and communicated to Pittheus the voice of the god, which was
in this manner,--
Loose not the wine-skin foot, thou chief of men,
Until to Athens thou art come again.
Pittheus, therefore, taking advantage from the obscurity of the oracle,
prevailed upon him, it is uncertain whether by persuasion or deceit, to
lie with his daughter Aethra. Aegeus afterwards, knowing her whom he
had lain with to be Pittheus's daughter, and suspecting her to be with
child by him, left a sword and a pair of shoes, hiding them under a
great stone that had a hollow in it exactly fitting them; and went away
making her only privy to it, and commanding her, if she brought forth a
son who, when he came to man's estate, should be able to lift up the
stone and take away what he had left there, she should send him away to
him with those things with all secrecy, and with injunctions to him as
much as possible to conceal his journey from every one; for he greatly
feared the Pallantidae, who were continually mutinying against him, and
despised him for his want of children, they themselves being fifty
brothers, all sons of Pallas.
When Aethra was delivered of a son, some say that he was immediately
named Theseus, from the tokens which his father had put @ under the
stone; others that he received his name afterwards at Athens, when
Aegeus acknowledged him for his son. He was brought up under his
grandfather Pittheus, and had a tutor and attendant set over him named
Connidas, to whom the Athenians, even to this time, the day before the
feast that is dedicated to Theseus, sacrifice a ram, giving this honor
to his memory upon much juster grounds than to Silanio and Parrhasius,
for making pictures and statues of Theseus. There being then a custom
for the Grecian youth, upon their first coming to man's estate, to go
to Delphi and offer first-fruits of their hair to the god, Theseus also
went thither, and a place there to this day is yet named Thesea, as it
is said, from him. He clipped only the fore part of his head, as Homer
says the Abantes did.% And this sort of tonsure was from him named
Theseis. The Abantes first used it, not in imitation of the Arabians,
as some imagine, nor of the Mysians, but because they were a warlike
people, and used to close fighting, and above all other nations
accustomed to engage hand to hand; as Archilochus testifies in these
verses: --
Slings shall not whirl, nor many arrows fly,
When on the plain the battle joins; but swords,
Man against man, the deadly conflict try,
As is the practice of Euboea's lords
Skilled with the spear.--
Therefore that they might not give their enemies a hold by their hair,
they cut it in this manner. They write also that this was the reason
why Alexander gave command to his captains that all the beards of the
Macedonians should be shaved, as being the readiest hold for an enemy.
Aethra for some time concealed the true parentage of Theseus, and a
report was given out by Pittheus that he was begotten by Neptune; for
the Troezenians pay Neptune the highest veneration. He is their tutelar
god, to him they offer all their first-fruits, and in his honor stamp
their money with a trident.
Theseus displaying not only great strength of body, but equal bravery,
and a quickness alike and force of understanding, his mother Aethra,
conducting him to the stone, and informing him who was his true father,
commanded him to take from thence the tokens that Aegeus had left, and
to sail to Athens. He without any difficulty set himself to the stone
and lifted it up; but refused to take his journey by sea, though it was
much the safer way, and though his mother and grandfather begged him to
do so. For it was at that time very dangerous to go by land on the road
to Athens, no part of it being free from robbers and murderers. That
age produced a sort of men, in force of hand, and swiftness of foot,
and strength of body, excelling the ordinary rate, and wholly incapable
of fatigue; making use, however, of these gifts of nature to no good or
profitable purpose for mankind, but rejoicing and priding themselves in
insolence, and taking the benefit of their superior strength in the
exercise of inhumanity and cruelty, and in seizing, forcing, and
committing all manner of outrages upon every thing that fell into their
hands; all respect for others, all justice, they thought, all equity
and humanity, though naturally lauded by common people, either out of
want of courage to commit injuries or fear to receive them, yet no way
concerned those who were strong enough to win for themselves. Some of
these, Hercules destroyed and cut off in his passage through these
countries, but some, escaping his notice while he was passing by, fled
and hid themselves, or else were spared by him in contempt of their
abject submission; and after that Hercules fell into misfortune, and,
having slain Iphitus, retired to Lydia, and for a long time was there
slave to Omphale, a punishment which he had imposed upon himself for
the murder, then, indeed, Lydia enjoyed high peace and security, but in
Greece and the countries about it the like villanies again revived and
broke out, there being none to repress or chastise them. It was
therefore a very hazardous journey to travel by land from Athens to
Peloponnesus; and Pittheus, giving him an exact account of each of
these robbers and villains, their strength, and the cruelty they used
to all strangers, tried to persuade Theseus to go by sea. But he, it
seems, had long since been secretly fired by the glory of Hercules,
held him in the highest estimation, and was never more satisfied than
in listening to any that gave an account of him; especially those that
had seen him, or had been present at any action or saying of his. So
that he was altogether in the same state of feeling as, in after ages,
Themistocles was, when he said that he could not sleep for the trophy
of Miltiades; entertaining such admiration for the virtue of Hercules,
that in the night his dreams were all of that hero's actions. and in
the day a continual emulation stirred him up to perform the like.
Besides, they were related, being born of cousins-german. For Aethra
was daughter of Pittheus, and Alcmena of Lysidice; and Lysidice and
Pittheus were brother and sister, children of Hippodamia and Pelops. He
thought it therefore a dishonorable thing, and not to be endured, that
Hercules should go out everywhere, and purge both land and sea from
wicked men, and he himself should fly from the like adventures that
actually came in his way; disgracing his reputed father by a mean
flight by sea, and not showing his true one as good evidence of the
greatness of his birth by noble and worthy actions, as by the tokens
that he brought with him, the shoes and the sword.
With this mind and these thoughts, he set forward with a design to do
injury to nobody, but to repel and revenge himself of all those that
should offer any. And first of all, in a set combat, he slew
Periphetes, in the neighborhood of Epidaurus, who used a club for his
arms, and from thence had the name of Corynetes, or the club-bearer;
who seized upon him, and forbade him to go forward in his journey.
Being pleased with the club, he took it, and made it his weapon,
continuing to use it as Hercules did the lion's skin, on whose
shoulders that served to prove how huge a beast he had killed; and to
the same end Theseus carried about him this club; overcome indeed by
him, but now, in his hands, invincible.
Passing on further towards the Isthmus of Peloponnesus, he slew Sinnis,
often surnamed the Bender of Pines, after the same manner in which he
himself had destroyed many others before. And this he did without
having either practiced or ever learnt the art of bending these trees,
to show that natural strength is above all art. This Sinnis had a
daughter of remarkable beauty and stature, called Perigune, who, when
her father was killed, fled, and was sought after everywhere by
Theseus; and coming into a place overgrown with brushwood shrubs, and
asparagus- thorn, there, in a childlike, innocent manner, prayed and
begged them, as if they understood her, to give her shelter, with vows
that if she escaped she would never cut them down nor burn them. But
Theseus calling upon her, and giving her his promise that he would use
her with respect, and offer her no injury, she came forth, and in due
time bore him a son, named Melanippus; but afterwards was married to
Deioneus, the son of Eurytus, the Oechalian, Theseus himself giving her
to him. Ioxus, the son of this Melanippus who was born to Theseus,
accompanied Ornytus in the colony that he carried with him into Caria,
whence it is a family usage amongst the people called Ioxids, both male
and female, never to burn either shrubs or asparagus-thorn, but to
respect and honor them.
The Crommyonian sow, which they called Phaea, was a savage and
formidable wild beast, by no means an enemy to be despised. Theseus
killed her, going out of his way on purpose to meet and engage her, so
that he might not seem to perform all his great exploits out of mere
necessity ; being also of opinion that it was the part of a brave man
to chastise villainous and wicked men when attacked by them, but to
seek out and overcome the more noble wild beasts. Others relate that
Phaea was a woman, a robber full of cruelty and lust, that lived in
Crommyon, and had the name of Sow given her from the foulness of her
life and manners, and afterwards was killed by Theseus. He slew also
Sciron, upon the borders of Megara, casting him down from the rocks,
being, as most report, a notorious robber of all passengers, and, as
others add, accustomed, out of insolence and wantonness, to stretch
forth his feet to strangers, commanding them to wash them, and then
while they did it, with a kick to send them down the rock into the sea.
The writers of Megara, however, in contradiction to the received
report, and, as Simonides expresses it, "fighting with all antiquity,"
contend that Sciron was neither a robber nor doer of violence, but a
punisher of all such, and the relative and friend of good and just men;
for Aeacus, they say, was ever esteemed a man of the greatest sanctity
of all the Greeks; and Cychreus, the Salaminian, was honored at Athens
with divine worship; and the virtues of Peleus and Telamon were not
unknown to any one. Now Sciron was son-in-law to Cychreus,
father-in-law to Aeacus, and grandfather to Peleus and Telamon, who
were both of them sons of Endeis, the daughter of Sciron and Chariclo;
it was not probable, therefore, that the best of men should make these
alliances with one who was worst, giving and receiving mutually what
was of greatest value and most dear to them. Theseus, by their account,
did not slay Sciron in his first journey to Athens, but afterwards,
when he took Eleusis, a city of the Megarians, having circumvented
Diocles, the governor. Such are the contradictions in this story. In
Eleusis he killed Cercyon, the Arcadian, in a wrestling match. And
going on a little farther, in Erineus, he slew Damastes, otherwise
called Procrustes, forcing his body to the size of his own bed, as he
himself was used to do with all strangers; this he did in imitation of
Hercules, who always returned upon his assailants the same sort of
violence that they offered to him; sacrificed Busiris, killed Antaeus
in wrestling, and Cycnus in single combat, and Termerus by breaking his
skull in pieces (whence, they say, comes the proverb of "a Termerian
mischief"), for it seems Termerus killed passengers that he met, by
running with his head against them. And so also Theseus proceeded in
the punishment of evil men, who underwent the same violence from him
which they had inflicted upon others, justly suffering after the manner
of their own injustice.
As he went forward on his journey, and was come as far as the river
Cephisus, some of the race of the Phytalidae met him and saluted him,
and, upon his desire to use the purifications, then in custom, they
performed them with all the usual ceremonies, and, having offered
propitiatory sacrifices to the gods, invited him and entertained him at
their house, a kindness which, in all his journey hitherto, he had not
met.
On the eighth day of Cronius, now called Hecatombaeon, he arrived at
Athens, where he found the public affairs full of all confusion, and
divided into parties and factions, Aegeus also, and his whole private
family, laboring under the same distemper; for Medea, having fled from
Corinth, and promised Aegeus to make him, by her art, capable of having
children, was living with him. She first was aware of Theseus, whom as
yet Aegeus did not know, and he being in years, full of jealousies and
suspicions, and fearing every thing by reason of the faction that was
then in the city, she easily persuaded him to kill him by poison at a
banquet, to which he was to be invited as a stranger. He, coming to the
entertainment, thought it not fit to discover himself at once, but,
willing to give his father the occasion of first finding him out, the
meat being on the table, he drew his sword as if he designed to cut
with it; Aegeus, at once recognizing the token, threw down the cup of
poison, and, questioning his son, embraced him, and, having gathered
together all his citizens, owned him publicly before them, who, on
their part, received him gladly for the fame of his greatness and
bravery; and it is said, that when the cup fell, the poison was spilt
there where now is the enclosed space in the Delphinium; for in that
place stood Aegeus's house, and the figure of Mercury on the east side
of the temple is called the Mercury of Aegeus's gate.
The sons of Pallas, who before were quiet, upon expectation of
recovering the kingdom after Aegeus's death, who was without issue, as
soon as Theseus appeared and was acknowledged the successor, highly
resenting that Aegeus first, an adopted son only of Pandion, and not at
all related to the family of Erechtheus, should be holding the kingdom,
and that after him, Theseus, a visitor and stranger, should be destined
to succeed to it, broke out into open war. And, dividing themselves
into two companies, one part of them marched openly from Sphettus, with
their father, against the city, the other, hiding themselves in the
village of Gargettus, lay in ambush, with a design to set upon the
enemy on both sides. They had with them a crier of the township of
Agnus, named Leos, who discovered to Theseus all the designs of the
Pallantidae He immediately fell upon those that lay in ambuscade, and
cut them all off; upon tidings of which Pallas and his company fled and
were dispersed.
From hence they say is derived the custom among the people of the
township of Pallene to have no marriages or any alliance with the
people of Agnus, nor to suffer the criers to pronounce in their
proclamations the words used in all other parts of the country, Acouete
Leoi (Hear ye people), hating the very sound of Leo, because of the
treason of Leos.
Theseus, longing to be in action, and desirous also to make himself
popular, left Athens to fight with the bull of Marathon, which did no
small mischief to the inhabitants of Tetrapolis. And having overcome
it, he brought it alive in triumph through the city, and afterwards
sacrificed it to the Delphinian Apollo. The story of Hecale, also, of
her receiving and entertaining Theseus in this expedition, seems to be
not altogether void of truth; for the townships round about, meeting
upon a certain day, used to offer a sacrifice, which they called
Hecalesia, to Jupiter Hecaleius, and to pay honor to Hecale, whom, by a
diminutive name, they called Hecalene, because she, while entertaining
Theseus, who was quite a youth, addressed him, as old people do, with
similar endearing diminutives; and having made a vow to Jupiter for him
as he was going to the fight, that, if he returned in safety, she would
offer sacrifices in thanks of it, and dying before he came back, she
had these honors given her by way of return for her hospitality, by the
command of Theseus, as Philochorus tells us.
Not long after arrived the third time from Crete the collectors of the
tribute which the Athenians paid them upon the following occasion.
Androgeus having been treacherously murdered in the confines of Attica,
not only Minos, his father, put the Athenians to extreme distress by a
perpetual war, but the gods also laid waste their country both famine
and pestilence lay heavy upon them, and even their rivers were dried
up. Being told by the oracle that, if they appeased and reconciled
Minos, the anger of the gods would cease and they should enjoy rest
from the miseries they labored under, they sent heralds, and with much
supplication were at last reconciled, entering into an agreement to
send to Crete every nine years a tribute of seven young men and as many
virgins, as most writers agree in stating; and the most poetical story
adds, that the Minotaur destroyed them, or that, wandering in the
labyrinth, and finding no possible means of getting out, they miserably
ended their lives there; and that this Minotaur was (as Euripides hath
it)
A mingled form, where two strange shapes combined, And different
natures, bull and man, were joined.
But Philochorus says that the Cretans will by no means allow the truth
of this, but say that the labyrinth was only an ordinary prison, having
no other bad quality but that it secured the prisoners from escaping,
and that Minos, having instituted games in honor of Androgeus, gave, as
a reward to the victors, these youths, who in the mean time were kept
in the labyrinth; and that the first that overcame in those games was
one of the greatest power and command among them, named Taurus, a man
of no merciful or gentle disposition, who treated the Athenians that
were made his prize in a proud and cruel manner. Also Aristotle
himself, in the account that he gives of the form of government of the
Bottiaeans, is manifestly of opinion that the youths were not slain by
Minos, but spent the remainder of their days in slavery in Crete; that
the Cretans, in former times, to acquit themselves of an ancient vow
which they had made, were used to send an offering of the first-fruits
of their men to Delphi, and that some descendants of these Athenian
slaves were mingled with them and sent amongst them, and, unable to get
their living there, removed from thence, first into Italy, and settled
about Japygia; from thence again, that they removed to Thrace, and were
named Bottiaeans and that this is the reason why, in a certain
sacrifice, the Bottiaean girls sing a hymn beginning Let us go to
Athens. This may show us how dangerous a thing it is to incur the
hostility of a city that is mistress of eloquence and song. For Minos
was always ill spoken of, and represented ever as a very wicked man, in
the Athenian theaters; neither did Hesiod avail him by calling him "the
most royal Minos," nor Homer, who styles him "Jupiter's familiar
friend;" the tragedians got the better, and from the vantage ground of
the stage showered down obloquy upon him, as a man of cruelty and
violence; whereas, in fact, he appears to have been a king and a
lawgiver, and Rhadamanthus a judge under him, administering the
statutes that he ordained.
Now when the time of the third tribute was come, and the fathers who
had any young men for their sons were to proceed by lot to the choice
of those that were to be sent, there arose fresh discontents and
accusations against Aegeus among the people, who were full of grief and
indignation that he, who was the cause of all their miseries, was the
only person exempt from the punishment; adopting and settling his
kingdom upon a bastard and foreign son, he took no thought, they said,
of their destitution and loss, not of bastards, but lawful children.
These things sensibly affected Theseus, who, thinking it but just not
to disregard, but rather partake of, the sufferings of his fellow
citizens, offered himself for one without any lot. All else were struck
with admiration for the nobleness and with love for the goodness of the
act; and Aegeus, after prayers and entreaties, finding him inflexible
and not to be persuaded, proceeded to the choosing of the rest by lot.
Hellanicus, however, tells us that the Athenians did not send the young
men and virgins by lot, but that Minos himself used to come and make
his own choice, and pitched upon Theseus before all others; according
to the conditions agreed upon between them, namely, that the Athenians
should furnish them with a ship, and that the young men that were to
sail with him should carry no weapon of war; but that if the Minotaur
was destroyed, the tribute should cease.
On the two former occasions of the payment of the tribute, entertaining
no hopes of safety or return, they sent out the ship with a black sail,
as to unavoidable destruction; but now, Theseus encouraging his father
and speaking greatly of himself, as confident that he should kill the
Minotaur, he gave the pilot another sail, which was white, commanding
him, as he returned, if Theseus were safe, to make use of that; but if
not, to sail with the black one, and to hang out that sign of his
misfortune. Simonides says that the sail which Aegeus delivered to the
pilot was not white, but
Scarlet, in the juicy bloom
Of the living oak-tree steeped,
and that this was to be the sign of their escape. Phereclus, son of
Amarsyas, according to Simonides, was pilot of the ship. But
Philochorus says Theseus had sent him by Scirus, from Salamis,
Nausithous to be his steersman, and Phaeax his look-out-man in the
prow, the Athenians having as yet not applied themselves to navigation;
and that Scirus did this because one of the young men, Menesthes, was
his daughter's son; and this the chapels of Nausithous and Phaeax,
built by Theseus near the temple of Scirus, confirm. He adds, also,
that the feast named Cybernesia was in honor of them. The lot being
cast, and Theseus having received out of the Prytaneum those upon whom
it fell, he went to the Delphinium, and made an offering for them to
Apollo of his suppliant's badge, which was a bough of a consecrated
olive tree, with white wool tied about it.
Having thus performed his devotion, he went to sea, the sixth day of
Munychion, on which day even to this time the Athenians send their
virgins to the same temple to make supplication to the gods. It is
farther reported that he was commanded by the oracle at Delphi to make
Venus his guide, and to invoke her as the companion and conductress of
his voyage, and that, as he was sacrificing a she goat to her by the
seaside, it was suddenly changed into a he, and for this cause that
goddess had the name of Epitrapia.
When he arrived at Crete, as most of the ancient historians as well as
poets tell us, having a clue of thread given him by Ariadne, who had
fallen in love with him, and being instructed by her how to use it so
as to conduct him through the windings of the labyrinth, he escaped out
of it and slew the Minotaur, and sailed back, taking along with him
Ariadne and the young Athenian captives. Pherecydes adds that he bored
holes in the bottoms of the Cretan ships to hinder their pursuit. Demon
writes that Taurus, the chief captain of Minos, was slain by Theseus at
the mouth of the port, in a naval combat, as he was sailing out for
Athens. But Philochorus gives us the story thus: That at the setting
forth of the yearly games by king Minos, Taurus was expected to carry
away the prize, as he had done before; and was much grudged the honor.
His character and manners made his power hateful, and he was accused
moreover of too near familiarity with Pasiphae, for which reason, when
Theseus desired the combat, Minos readily complied. And as it was a
custom in Crete that the women also should be admitted to the sight of
these games, Ariadne, being present, was struck with admiration of the
manly beauty of Theseus, and the vigor and address which he showed in
the combat, overcoming all that encountered with him. Minos, too, being
extremely pleased with him, especially because he had overthrown and
disgraced Taurus, voluntarily gave up the young captives to Theseus,
and remitted the tribute to the Athenians. Clidemus gives an account
peculiar to himself, very ambitiously, and beginning a great way back:
That it was a decree consented to by all Greece, that no vessel from
any place, containing above five persons, should be permitted to sail,
Jason only excepted, who was made captain of the great ship Argo, to
sail about and scour the sea of pirates. But Daedalus having escaped
from Crete, and flying by sea to Athens, Minos, contrary to this
decree, pursued him with his ships of war, was forced by a storm upon
Sicily, and there ended his life. After his decease, Deucalion, his
son, desiring a quarrel with the Athenians, sent to them, demanding
that they should deliver up Daedalus to him, threatening, upon their
refusal, to put to death all the young Athenians whom his father had
received as hostages from the city. To this angry message Theseus
returned a very gentle answer, excusing himself that he could not
deliver up Daedalus, who was nearly related to him, being his
cousin-german, his mother being Merope, the daughter of Erechtheus. In
the meanwhile he secretly prepared a navy, part of it at home near the
village of the Thymoetadae, a place of no resort, and far from any
common roads, the other part by his grandfather Pittheus's means at
Troezen, that so his design might be carried on with the greatest
secrecy. As soon as ever his fleet was in readiness, he set sail,
having with him Daedalus and other exiles from Crete for his guides;
and none of the Cretans having any knowledge of his coming, but
imagining, when they saw his fleet, that they were friends and vessels
of their own, he soon made himself master of the port, and, immediately
making a descent, reached Gnossus before any notice of his coming, and,
in a battle before the gates of the labyrinth, put Deucalion and all
his guards to the sword. The government by this means falling to
Ariadne, he made a league with her, and received the captives of her,
and ratified a perpetual friendship between the Athenians and the
Cretans, whom he engaged under an oath never again to commence any war
with Athens.
There are yet many other traditions about these things, and as many
concerning Ariadne, all inconsistent with each other. Some relate that
she hung herself, being deserted by Theseus. Others that she was
carried away by his sailors to the isle of Naxos, and married to
Oenarus, priest of Bacchus; and that Theseus left her because he fell
in love with another,
For Aegle's love was burning in his breast;
a verse which Hereas, the Megarian, says, was formerly in the poet
Hesiod's works, but put out by Pisistratus, in like manner as he added
in Homer's Raising of the Dead, to gratify the Athenians, the line
Theseus, Pirithous, mighty sons of gods.
Others say Ariadne had sons also by Theseus, Oenopion and Staphylus;
and among these is the poet Ion of Chios, who writes of his own native
city
Which once Oenopion, son of Theseus, built.
But the more famous of the legendary stories everybody (as I may say)
has in his mouth. In Paeon, however, the Amathusian, there is a story
given, differing from the rest. For he writes that Theseus, being
driven by a storm upon the isle of Cyprus, and having aboard with him
Ariadne, big with child, and extremely discomposed with the rolling of
the sea, set her on shore, and left her there alone, to return himself
and help the ship, when, on a sudden, a violent wind carried him again
out to sea. That the women of the island received Ariadne very kindly,
and did all they could to console and alleviate her distress at being
left behind. That they counterfeited kind letters, and delivered them
to her, as sent from Theseus, and, when she fell in labor, were
diligent in performing to her every needful service; but that she died
before she could be delivered, and was honorably interred. That soon
after Theseus returned, and was greatly afflicted for her loss, and at
his departure left a sum of money among the people of the island,
ordering them to do sacrifice to Ariadne; and caused two little images
to be made and dedicated to her, one of silver and the other of brass.
Moreover, that on the second day of Gorpiaeus, which is sacred to
Ariadne, they have this ceremony among their sacrifices, to have a
youth lie down and with his voice and gesture represent the pains of a
woman in travail; and that the Amathusians call the grove in which they
show her tomb, the grove of Venus Ariadne.
Differing yet from this account, some of the Naxians write that there
were two Minoses and two Ariadnes, one of whom, they say, was married
to Bacchus, in the isle of Naxos, and bore the children Staphylus and
his brother; but that the other, of a later age, was carried off by
Theseus, and, being afterwards deserted by him, retired to Naxos with
her nurse Corcyna, whose grave they yet show. That this Ariadne also
died there, and was worshiped by the island, but in a different manner
from the former; for her day is celebrated with general joy and
revelling, but all the sacrifices performed to the latter are attended
with mourning and gloom.
Now Theseus, in his return from Crete, put in at Delos, and, having
sacrificed to the god of the island, dedicated to the temple the image
of Venus which Ariadne had given him, and danced with the young
Athenians a dance that, in memory of him, they say is still preserved
among the inhabitants of Delos, consisting in certain measured turnings
and returnings, imitative of the windings and twistings of the
labyrinth. And this dance, as Dicaearchus writes, is called among the
Delians, the Crane. This he danced round the Ceratonian Altar, so
called from its consisting of horns taken from the left side of the
head. They say also that he instituted games in Delos where he was the
first that began the custom of giving a palm to the victors.
When they were come near the coast of Attica, so great was the joy for
the happy success of their voyage, that neither Theseus himself nor the
pilot remembered to hang out the sail which should have been the token
of their safety to Aegeus, who, in despair at the sight, threw himself
headlong from a rock, and perished in the sea. But Theseus, being
arrived at the port of Phalerum, paid there the sacrifices which he had
vowed to the gods at his setting out to sea, and sent a herald to the
city to carry the news of his safe return. At his entrance, the herald
found the people for the most part full of grief for the loss of their
king, others, as may well be believed, as full of joy for the tidings
that he brought, and eager to welcome him and crown him with garlands
for his good news, which he indeed accepted of, but hung them upon his
herald's staff; and thus returning to the seaside before Theseus had
finished his libation to the gods, he stayed apart for fear of
disturbing the holy rites, but, as soon as the libation was ended, went
up and related the king's death, upon the hearing of which, with great
lamentations and a confused tumult of grief, they ran with all haste to
the city. And from hence, they say, it comes that at this day, in the
feast of Oschophoria, the herald is not crowned, but his staff, and all
who are present at the libation cry out eleleu iou iou, the first of
which confused sounds is commonly used by men in haste, or at a
triumph, the other is proper to people in consternation or disorder of
mind.
Theseus, after the funeral of his father, paid his vows to Apollo the
seventh day of Pyanepsion; for on that day the youth that returned with
him safe from Crete made their entry into the city. They say, also,
that the custom of boiling pulse at this feast is derived from hence;
because the young men that escaped put all that was left of their
provision together, and, boiling it in one common pot, feasted
themselves with it, and ate it all up together. Hence, also, they carry
in procession an olive branch bound about with wool (such as they then
made use of in their supplications), which they call Eiresione, crowned
with all sorts of fruits, to signify that scarcity and barrenness was
ceased, singing in their procession this song:
Eiresione bring figs, and Eiresione bring loaves; Bring us honey in
pints, and oil to rub on our bodies, And a strong flagon of wine, for
all to go mellow to bed on.
Although some hold opinion that this ceremony is retained in memory of
the Heraclidae, who were thus entertained and brought up by the
Athenians. But most are of the opinion which we have given above.
The ship wherein Theseus and the youth of Athens returned had thirty
oars, and was preserved by the Athenians down even to the time of
Demetrius Phalereus, for they took away the old planks as they decayed,
putting in new and stronger timber in their place, insomuch that this
ship became a standing example among the philosophers, for the logical
question as to things that grow; one side holding that the ship
remained the same, and the other contending that it was not the same.
The feast called Oschophoria, or the feast of boughs, which to this day
the Athenians celebrate, was then first instituted by Theseus. For he
took not with him the full number of virgins which by lot were to be
carried away, but selected two youths of his acquaintance, of fair and
womanish faces, but of a manly and forward spirit, and having, by
frequent baths, and avoiding the heat and scorching of the sun, with a
constant use of all the ointments and washes and dresses that serve to
the adorning of the head or smoothing the skin or improving the
complexion, in a manner changed them from what they were before, and
having taught them farther to counterfeit the very voice and carriage
and gait of virgins, so that there could not be the least difference
perceived; he, undiscovered by any, put them into the number of the
Athenian maids designed for Crete. At his return, he and these two
youths led up a solemn procession, in the same habit that is now worn
by those who carry the vine-branches. These branches they carry in
honor of Bacchus and Ariadne, for the sake of their story before
related; or rather because they happened to return in autumn, the time
of gathering the grapes. The women whom they call Deipnopherae, or
supper-carriers, are taken into these ceremonies, and assist at the
sacrifice, in remembrance and imitation of the mothers of the young men
and virgins upon whom the lot fell, for thus they ran about bringing
bread and meat to their children; and because the women then told their
sons and daughters many tales and stories, to comfort and encourage
them under the danger they were going upon, it has still continued a
custom that at this feast old fables and tales should be told. For
these particularities we are indebted to the history of Demon. There
was then a place chosen out, and a temple erected in it to Theseus, and
those families out of whom the tribute of the youth was gathered were
appointed to pay a tax to the temple for sacrifices to him. And the
house of the Phytalidae had the overseeing of these sacrifices, Theseus
doing them that honor in recompense of their former hospitality.
Now, after the death of his father Aegeus, forming in his mind a great
and wonderful design, he gathered together all the inhabitants of
Attica into one town, and made them one people of one city, whereas
before they lived dispersed, and were not easy to assemble upon any
affair for the common interest. Nay, differences and even wars often
occurred between them, which he by his persuasions appeased, going from
township to township, and from tribe to tribe. And those of a more
private and mean condition readily embracing such good advice, to those
of greater power he promised a commonwealth without monarchy, a
democracy, or people's government in which he should only be continued
as their commander in war and the protector of their laws, all things
else being equally distributed among them; and by this means brought a
part of them over to his proposal. The rest, fearing his power, which
was already grown very formidable, and knowing his courage and
resolution, chose rather to be persuaded than forced into a compliance.
He then dissolved all the distinct state-houses, council halls, and
magistracies, and built one common state-house and council hall on the
site of the present upper town, and gave the name of Athens to the
whole state, ordaining a common feast and sacrifice, which he called
Panathenaea, or the sacrifice of all the united Athenians. He
instituted also another sacrifice, called Metoecia, or Feast of
Migration, which is yet celebrated on the sixteenth day of
Hecatombaeon. Then, as he had promised, he laid down his regal power
and proceeded to order a commonwealth, entering upon this great work
not without advice from the gods. For having sent to consult the oracle
of Delphi concerning the fortune of his new government and city, he
received this answer:
Son of the Pitthean maid, To your town the terms and fates, My father
gives of many states. Be not anxious nor afraid; The bladder will not
fail so swim On the waves that compass him.
Which oracle, they say, one of the sibyls long after did in a manner
repeat to the Athenians, in this verse,
The bladder may be dipt, but not be drowned.
Farther yet designing to enlarge his city, he invited all strangers to
come and enjoy equal privileges with the natives, and it is said that
the common form, Come hither all ye people, was the words that Theseus
proclaimed when he thus set up a commonwealth, in a manner, for all
nations. Yet he did not suffer his state, by the promiscuous multitude
that flowed in, to be turned into confusion and be left without any
order or degree, but was the first that divided the Commonwealth into
three distinct ranks, the noblemen, the husbandmen, and artificers.% To
the nobility he committed the care of religion, the choice of
magistrates, the teaching and dispensing of the laws, and
interpretation and direction in all sacred matters; the whole city
being, as it were, reduced to an exact equality, the nobles excelling
the rest in honor, the husbandmen in profit, and the artificers in
number. And that Theseus was the first, who, as Aristotle says, out of
an inclination to popular government, parted with the regal power,
Homer also seems to testify, in his catalogue of the ships, where he
gives the name of People to the Athenians only.
He also coined money, and stamped it with the image of an ox, either in
memory of the Marathonian bull, or of Taurus, whom he vanquished, or
else to put his people in mind to follow husbandry; and from this coin
came the expression so frequent among the Greeks, of a thing being
worth ten or a hundred oxen. After this he joined Megara to Attica, and
erected that famous pillar on the Isthmus, which bears an inscription
of two lines, showing the bounds of the two countries that meet there.
On the east side the inscription is,--
Peloponnesus there, Ionia here,
and on the west side,--
Peloponnesus here, Ionia there.
He also instituted the games, in emulation of Hercules, being ambitious
that as the Greeks, by that hero's appointment, celebrated the Olympian
games to the honor of Jupiter, so, by his institution, they should
celebrate the Isthmian to the honor of Neptune. For those that were
there before observed, dedicated to Melicerta, were performed privately
in the night, and had the form rather of a religious rite than of an
open spectacle or public feast. There are some who say that the
Isthmian games were first instituted in memory of Sciron, Theseus thus
making expiation for his death, upon account of the nearness of kindred
between them, Sciron being the son of Canethus and Heniocha, the
daughter of Pittheus; though others write that Sinnis, not Sciron, was
their son, and that to his honor, and not to the other's, these games
were ordained by Theseus. At the same time he made an agreement with
the Corinthians, that they should allow those that came from Athens to
the celebration of the Isthmian games as much space of honor before the
rest to behold the spectacle in, as the sail of the ship that brought
them thither, stretched to its full extent, could cover; so Hellanicus
and Andro of Halicarnassus have established.
Concerning his voyage into the Euxine Sea, Philochorus and some others
write that he made it with Hercules, offering him his service in the
war against the Amazons, and had Antiope given him for the reward of
his valor; but the greater number, of whom are Pherecydes, Hellanicus,
and Herodorus, write that he made this voyage many years after
Hercules, with a navy under his own command, and took the Amazon
prisoner, the more probable story, for we do not read that any other,
of all those that accompanied him in this action, took any Amazon
prisoner. Bion adds, that, to take her, he had to use deceit and fly
away; for the Amazons, he says, being naturally lovers of men, were so
far from avoiding Theseus when he touched upon their coasts, that they
sent him presents to his ship; but he, having invited Antiope, who
brought them, to come aboard, immediately set sail and carried her
away. An author named Menecrates, that wrote the History of Nicaea in
Bithynia, adds, that Theseus, having Antiope aboard his vessel, cruised
for some time about those coasts, and that there were in the same ship
three young men of Athens, that accompanied him in this voyage, all
brothers, whose names were Euneos, Thoas, and Soloon. The last of these
fell desperately in love with Antiope; and, escaping the notice of the
rest, revealed the secret only to one of his most intimate
acquaintance, and employed him to disclose his passion to Antiope, she
rejected his pretenses with a very positive denial, yet treated the
matter with much gentleness and discretion, and made no complaint to
Theseus of any thing that had happened; but Soloon, the thing being
desperate, leaped into a river near the seaside and drowned himself. As
soon as Theseus was acquainted with his death, and his unhappy love
that was the cause of it, he was extremely distressed, and, in the
height of his grief, an oracle which he had formerly received at Delphi
came into his mind, for he had been commanded by the priestess of
Apollo Pythius, that, wherever in a strange land he was most sorrowful
and under the greatest affliction, he should build a city there, and
leave some of his followers to be governors of the place. For this
cause he there founded a city, which he called, from the name of
Apollo, Pythopolis, and, in honor of the unfortunate youth, he named
the river that runs by it Soloon, and left the two surviving brothers
entrusted with the care of the government and laws, joining with them
Hermus, one of the nobility of Athens, from whom a place in the city is
called the House of Hermus; though by an error in the accent it has
been taken for the House of Hermes, or Mercury, and the honor that was
designed to the hero transferred to the god.
This was the origin and cause of the Amazonian invasion of Attica,
which would seem to have been no slight or womanish enterprise. For it
is impossible that they should have placed their camp in the very city,
and joined battle close by the Pnyx and the hill called Museum, unless,
having first conquered the country round about, they had thus with
impunity advanced to the city. That they made so long a journey by
land, and passed the Cimmerian Bosphorus when frozen, as Hellanicus
writes, is difficult to be believed. That they encamped all but in the
city is certain, and may be sufficiently confirmed by the names that
the places thereabout yet retain, and the graves and monuments of those
that fell in the battle. Both armies being in sight, there was a long
pause and doubt on each side which should give the first onset; at last
Theseus, having sacrificed to Fear, in obedience to the command of an
oracle he had received, gave them battle; and this happened in the
month of Boedromion, in which to this very day the Athenians celebrate
the Feast Boedromia. Clidemus, desirous to be very
circumstantial,writes that the left wing of the Amazons moved towards
the place which is yet called Amazonium and the right towards the Pnyx,
near Chrysa, that with this wing the Athenians, issuing from behind the
Museum, engaged, and that the graves of those that were slain are to be
seen in the street that leads to the gate called the Piraic, by the
chapel of the hero Chalcodon; and that here the Athenians were routed,
and gave way before the women, as far as to the temple of the Furies,
but, fresh supplies coming in from the Palladium, Ardettus, and the
Lyceum, they charged their right wing, and beat them back into their
tents, in which action a great number of the Amazons were slain. At
length, after four months, a peace was concluded between them by the
mediation of Hippolyta (for so this historian calls the Amazon whom
Theseus married, and not Antiope), though others write that she was
slain with a dart by Molpadia, while fighting by Theseus's side, and
that the pillar which stands by the temple of Olympian Earth was
erected to her honor. Nor is it to be wondered at, that in events of
such antiquity, history should be in disorder. For indeed we are also
told that those of the Amazons that were wounded were privately sent
away by Antiope to Chalcis, where many by her care recovered, but some
that died were buried there in the place that is to this time called
Amazonium. That this war, however, was ended by a treaty is evident,
both from the name of the place adjoining to the temple of Theseus,
called, from the solemn oath there taken, Horcomosium; @ and also from
the ancient sacrifice which used to be celebrated to the Amazons the
day before the Feast of Theseus. The Megarians also show a spot in
their city where some Amazons were buried, on the way from the market
to a place called Rhus, where the building in the shape of a lozenge
stands. It is said, likewise, that others of them were slain near
Chaeronea, and buried near the little rivulet, formerly called
Thermodon, but now Haemon, of which an account is given in the life of
Demosthenes. It appears further that the passage of the Amazons through
Thessaly was not without opposition, for there are yet shown many tombs
of them near Scotussa and Cynoscephalae.
This is as much as is worth telling concerning the Amazons. For the
account which the author of the poem called the Theseid gives of this
rising of the Amazons, how Antiope, to revenge herself upon Theseus for
refusing her and marrying Phaedra, came down upon the city with her
train of Amazons, whom Hercules slew, is manifestly nothing else but
fable and invention. It is true, indeed, that Theseus married Phaedra,
but that was after the death of Antiope, by whom he had a son called
Hippolytus, or, as Pindar writes, Demophon. The calamities which befell
Phaedra and this son, since none of the historians have contradicted
the tragic poets that have written of them, we must suppose happened as
represented uniformly by them.
There are also other traditions of the marriages of Theseus, neither
honorable in their occasions nor fortunate in their events, which yet
were never represented in the Greek plays. For he is said to have
carried off Anaxo, a Troezenian, and, having slain Sinnis and Cercyon,
to have ravished their daughters; to have married Periboea, the mother
of Ajax, and then Phereboea, and then Iope, the daughter of Iphicles.
And further, he is accused of deserting Ariadne (as is before related),
being in love with Aegle the daughter of Panopeus, neither justly nor
honorably; and lastly, of the rape of Helen, which filled all Attica
with war and blood, and was in the end the occasion of his banishment
and death, as will presently be related.
Herodorus is of opinion, that though there were many famous expeditions
undertaken by the bravest men of his time, yet Theseus never joined in
any of them, once only excepted, with the Lapithae, in their war
against the Centaurs; but others say that he accompanied Jason to
Colchis and Meleager to the slaying of the Calydonian boar, and that
hence it came to be a proverb, Not without Theseus; that he himself,
however, without aid of any one, performed many glorious exploits, and
that from him began the saying, He is a second Hercules. He also joined
Adrastus in recovering the bodies of those that were slain before
Thebes, but not as Euripides in his tragedy says, by force of arms, but
by persuasion and mutual agreement and composition, for so the greater
part of the historians write; Philochorus adds further that this was
the first treaty that ever was made for the recovering the bodies of
the dead, but in the history of Hercules it is shown that it was he who
first gave leave to his enemies to carry off their slain. The
burying-places of the most part are yet to be seen in the village
called Eleutherae; those of the commanders, at Eleusis, where Theseus
allotted them a place, to oblige Adrastus. The story of Euripides in
his Suppliants is disproved by Aeschylus in his Eleusinians, where
Theseus himself relates the facts as here told.
The celebrated friendship between Theseus and Pirithous is said to have
been thus begun: the fame of the strength and valor of Theseus being
spread through Greece, Pirithous was desirous to make a trial and
proof. of it himself, and to this end seized a herd of oxen which
belonged to Theseus, and was driving them away from Marathon, and, when
news was brought that Theseus pursued him in arms, he did not fly, but
turned back and went to meet him. But as soon as they had viewed one
another, each so admired the gracefulness and beauty, and was seized
with such a respect for the courage, of the other, that they forgot all
thoughts of fighting; and Pirithous, first stretching out his hand to
Theseus, bade him be judge in this case himself, and promised to submit
willingly to any penalty he should impose. But Theseus not only forgave
him all, but entreated him to be his friend and brother in arms; and
they ratified their friendship by oaths. After this Pirithous married
Deidamia, and invited Theseus to the wedding, entreating him to come
and see his country, and make acquaintance with the Lapithae; he had at
the same time invited the Centaurs to the feast, who growing hot with
wine and beginning to be insolent and wild, and offering violence to
the women, the Lapithae took immediate revenge upon them, slaying many
of them upon the place, and afterwards, having overcome them in battle,
drove the whole race of them out of their country, Theseus all along
taking their part and fighting on their side. But Herodorus gives a
different relation of these things: that Theseus came not to the
assistance of the Lapithae till the war was already begun; and that it
was in this journey that he had the first sight of Hercules, having
made it his business to find him out at Trachis, where he had chosen to
rest himself after all his wanderings and his labors; and that this
interview was honorably performed on each part, with extreme respect,
good-will, and admiration of each other. Yet it is more credible, as
others write, that there were, before, frequent interviews between
them, and that it was by the means of Theseus that Hercules was
initiated at Eleusis, and purified before initiation, upon account of
several rash actions of his former life.
Theseus was now fifty years old, as Hellanicus states, when he carried
off Helen, who was yet too young to be married. Some writers, to take
away this accusation of one of the greatest crimes laid to his charge,
say, that he did not steal away Helen himself, but that Idas and
Lynceus were the ravishers, who brought her to him, and committed her
to his charge, and that, therefore, he refused to restore her at the
demand of Castor and Pollux; or, indeed, they say her own father,
Tyndarus, had sent her to be kept by him, for fear of Enarophorus, the
son of Hippocoon, who would have carried her away by force when she was
yet a child. But the most probable account, and that which has most
witnesses on its side, is this: Theseus and Pirithous went both
together to Sparta, and, having seized the young lady as she was
dancing in the temple of Diana Orthia, fled away with her. There were
presently men in arms sent to pursue, but they followed no further than
to Tegea; and Theseus and Pirithous, being now out of danger, having
passed through Peloponnesus, made an agreement between themselves, that
he to whom the lot should fall should have Helen to his wife, but
should be obliged to assist in procuring another for his friend. The
lot fell upon Theseus, who conveyed her to Aphidnae, not being yet
marriageable, and delivered her to one of his allies, called Aphidnus,
and, having sent his mother Aethra after to take care of her, desired
him to keep them so secretly, that none might know where they were;
which done, to return the same service to his friend Pirithous, he
accompanied him in his journey to Epirus, in order to steal away the
king of the Molossians' daughter. The king, his own name being
Aidoneus, or Pluto, called his wife Proserpina, and his daughter Cora,
and a great dog which he kept Cerberus, with whom he ordered all that
came as suitors to his daughter to fight, and promised her to him that
should overcome the beast. But having been informed that the design of
Pirithous and his companion was not to court his daughter, but to force
her away, he caused them both to be seized, and threw Pirithous to be
torn in pieces by his dog, and put Theseus into prison, and kept him.
About this time, Menestheus, the son of Peteus, grandson of Orneus, and
great-grandson to Erechtheus, the first man that is recorded to have
affected popularity and ingratiated himself with the multitude, stirred
up and exasperated the most eminent men of the city, who had long borne
a secret grudge to Theseus, conceiving that he had robbed them of their
several little kingdoms and lordships, and, having pent them all up in
one city, was using them as his subjects and slaves. He put also the
meaner people into commotion, telling them, that, deluded with a mere
dream of liberty, though indeed they were deprived both of that and of
their proper homes and religious usages, instead of many good and
gracious kings of their own, they had given themselves up to be lorded
over by a new-comer and a stranger. Whilst he was thus busied in
infecting the minds of the citizens, the war that Castor and Pollux
brought against Athens came very opportunely to further the sedition he
had been promoting, and some say that he by his persuasions was wholly
the cause of their invading the city. At their first approach, they
committed no acts of hostility, but peaceably demanded their sister
Helen; but the Athenians returning answer that they neither had her
there nor knew where she was disposed of, they prepared to assault the
city, when Academus, having, by whatever means, found it out, disclosed
to them that she was secretly kept at Aphidnae. For which reason he was
both highly honored during his life by Castor and Pollux, and the
Lacedaemonians, when often in aftertimes they made incursions into
Attica, and destroyed all the country round about, spared the Academy
for the sake of Academus. But Dicaearchus writes that there were two
Arcadians in the army of Castor and Pollux, the one called Echedemus
and the other Marathus; from the first that which is now called
Academia was then named Echedemia, and the village Marathon had its
name from the other, who, to fulfill some oracle, voluntarily offered
himself to be made a sacrifice before battle. As soon as they were
arrived at Aphidnae, they overcame their enemies in a set battle, and
then assaulted and took the town. And here, they say, Alycus, the son
of Sciron, was slain, of the party of the Dioscuri (Castor and Pollux),
from whom a place in Megara, where he was buried, is called Alycus to
this day. And Hereas writes that it was Theseus himself that killed
him, in witness of which he cites these verses concerning Alycus
And Alycus, upon Aphidna's plain By Theseus in the cause of Helen slain.
Though it is not at all probable that Theseus himself was there when
both the city and his mother were taken.
Aphidnae being won by Castor and Pollux, and the city of Athens being
in consternation, Menestheus persuaded the people to open their gates,
and receive them with all manner of friendship, for they were, he told
them, at enmity with none but Theseus, who had first injured them, and
were benefactors and saviors to all mankind beside. And their behavior
gave credit to those promises; for, having made themselves absolute
masters of the place, they demanded no more than to be initiated, since
they were as nearly related to the city as Hercules was, who had
received the same honor. This their desire they easily obtained, and
were adopted by Aphidnus, as Hercules had been by Pylius. They were
honored also like gods, and were called by a new name, Anaces, either
from the cessation (Anokhe) of the war, or from the care they took that
none should suffer any injury, though there was so great an army within
the walls; for the phrase anakos ekhein is used of those who look to or
care for any thing; kings for this reason, perhaps, are called anactes.
Others say, that from the appearance of their star in the heavens, they
were thus called, for in the Attic dialect this name comes very near
the words that signify above.
Some say that Aethra, Theseus's mother, was here taken prisoner, and
carried to Lacedaemon, and from thence went away with Helen to Troy,
alleging this verse of Homer, to prove that she waited upon Helen,
Aethra of Pittheus born, and large-eyed Clymene.
Others reject this verse as none of Homer's, as they do likewise the
whole fable of Munychus, who, the story says, was the son of Demophon
and Laodice, born secretly, and brought up by Aethra at Troy. But
Ister, in the thirteenth book of his Attic History, gives us an account
of Aethra, different yet from all the rest: that Achilles and Patroclus
overcame Paris in Thessaly, near the river Sperchius, but that Hector
took and plundered the city of the Troezenians, and made Aethra
prisoner there. But this seems a groundless tale.
Now Hercules, passing by the Molossians, was entertained in his way by
Aidoneus the king, who, in conversation, accidentally spoke of the
journey of Theseus and Pirithous into his country, of what they had
designed to do, and what they were forced to suffer. Hercules was much
grieved for the inglorious death of the one and the miserable condition
of the other. As for Pirithous, he thought it useless to complain; but
begged to have Theseus released for his sake, and obtained that favor
from the king. Theseus, being thus set at liberty, returned to Athens,
where his friends were not yet wholly suppressed, and dedicated to
Hercules all the sacred places which the city had set apart for
himself, changing their names from Thesea to Heraclea, four only
excepted, as Philochorus writes. And wishing immediately to resume the
first place in the commonwealth, and manage the state as before, he
soon found himself involved in factions and troubles; those who long
had hated him had now added to their hatred contempt; and the minds of
the people were so generally corrupted, that, instead of obeying
commands with silence, they expected to be flattered into their duty.
He had some thoughts to have reduced them by force, but was overpowered
by demagogues and factions. And at last, despairing of any good success
of his affairs in Athens, he sent away his children privately to
Euboea, commending them to the care of Elephenor, the son of Chalcodon;
and he himself, having solemnly cursed the people of Athens in the
village of Gargettus, in which there yet remains the place called
Araterion, or the place of cursing, sailed to Scyros, where he had
lands left him by his father, and friendship, as he thought, with those
of the island. Lycomedes was then king of Scyros. Theseus, therefore,
addressed himself to him, and desired to have his lands put into his
possession, as designing to settle and to dwell there, though others
say that he came to beg his assistance against the Athenians. But
Lycomedes, either jealous of the glory of so great a man, or to gratify
Menestheus, having led him up to the highest cliff of the island, on
pretense of showing him from thence the lands that he desired, threw
him headlong down from the rock, and killed him. Others say he fell
down of himself by a slip of his foot, as he was walking there,
according to his custom, after supper. At that time there was no notice
taken, nor were any concerned for his death, but Menestheus quietly
possessed the kingdom of Athens. His sons were brought up in a private
condition, and accompanied Elephenor to the Trojan war, but, after the
decease of Menestheus in that expedition, returned to Athens, and
recovered the government. But in succeeding ages, beside several other
circumstances that moved the Athenians to honor Theseus as a demigod,
in the battle which was fought at Marathon against the Medes, many of
the soldiers believed they saw an apparition of Theseus in arms,
rushing on at the head of them against the barbarians. And after the
Median war, Phaedo being archon of Athens, the Athenians, consulting
the oracle at Delphi, were commanded to gather together the bones of
Theseus, and, laying them in some honorable place, keep them as sacred
in the city. But it was very difficult to recover these relics, or so
much as to find out the place where they lay, on account of the
inhospitable and savage temper of the barbarous people that inhabited
the island. Nevertheless, afterwards, when Cimon took the island (as is
related in his life), and had a great ambition to find out the place
where Theseus was buried, he, by chance, spied an eagle upon a rising
ground pecking with her beak and tearing up the earth with her talons,
when on the sudden it came into his mind, as it were by some divine
inspiration, to dig there, and search for the bones of Theseus. There
were found in that place a coffin of a man of more than ordinary size,
and a brazen spear-head, and a sword lying by it, all which he took
aboard his galley and brought with him to Athens. Upon which the
Athenians, greatly delighted, went out to meet and receive the relics
with splendid processions and with sacrifices, as if it were Theseus
himself returning alive to the city. He lies interred in the middle of
the city, near the present gymnasium. His tomb is a sanctuary and
refuge for slaves, and all those of mean condition that fly from the
persecution of men in power, in memory that Theseus while he lived was
an assister and protector of the distressed, and never refused the
petitions of the afflicted that fled to him. The chief and most solemn
sacrifice which they celebrate to him is kept on the eighth day of
Pyanepsion, on which he returned with the Athenian young men from
Crete. Besides which, they sacrifice to him on the eighth day of every
month, either because he returned from Troezen the eighth day of
Hecatombaeon, as Diodorus the geographer writes, or else thinking that
number to be proper to him, because he was reputed to be born of
Neptune, because they sacrifice to Neptune on the eighth day of every
month. The number eight being the first cube of an even number, and the
double of the first square, seemed to be an emblem of the steadfast and
immovable power of this god, who from thence has the names of Asphalius
and Gaeiochus, that is, the establisher and stayer of the earth.
ROMULUS
From whom, and for what reason, the city of Rome, a name so great in
glory, and famous in the mouths of all men, was so first called,
authors do not agree. Some are of opinion that the Pelasgians,
wandering over the greater part of the habitable world, and subduing
numerous nations, fixed themselves here, and, from their own great
strength in war, called the city Rome. Others, that at the taking of
Troy, some few that escaped and met with shipping, put to sea, and,
driven by winds, were carried upon the coasts of Tuscany, and came to
anchor off the mouth of the river Tiber, where their women, out of
heart and weary with the sea, on its being proposed by one of the
highest birth and best understanding amongst them, whose name was Roma,
burnt the ships. With which act the men at first were angry, but
afterwards, of necessity, seating themselves near Palatium, where
things in a short while succeeded far better than they could hope, in
that they found the country very good, and the people courteous, they
not only did the lady Roma other honors, but added also this, of
calling after her name the city which she had been the occasion of
their founding. From this, they say, has come down that custom at Rome
for women to salute their kinsmen and husbands with kisses; because
these women, after they had burnt the ships, made use of such
endearments when entreating and pacifying their husbands.
Some again say that Roma, from whom this city was so called, was
daughter of Italus and Leucaria; or, by another account, of Telephus,
Hercules's son, and that she was married to Aeneas, or, according to
others again, to Ascanius, Aeneas's son. Some tell us that Romanus, the
son of Ulysses and Circe, built it; some, Romus the son of Emathion,
Diomede having sent him from Troy; and others, Romus, king of the
Latins, after driving out the Tyrrhenians, who had come from Thessaly
into Lydia, and from thence into Italy. Those very authors, too, who,
in accordance with the safest account, make Romulus give the name to
the city, yet differ concerning his birth and family. For some say, he
was son to Aeneas and Dexithea, daughter of Phorbas, and was, with his
brother Remus, in their infancy, carried into Italy, and being on the
river when the waters came down in a flood, all the vessels were cast
away except only that where the young children were, which being gently
landed on a level bank of the river, they were both unexpectedly saved,
and from them the place was called Rome. Some say, Roma, daughter of
the Trojan lady above mentioned, was married to Latinus, Telemachus's
son, and became mother to Romulus; others, that Aemilia, daughter of
Aeneas and Lavinia, had him by the god Mars; and others give you mere
fables of his origin. For to Tarchetius, they say, king of Alba, who
was a most wicked and cruel man, there appeared in his own house a
strange vision, a male figure that rose out of a hearth, and stayed
there for many days. There was an oracle of Tethys in Tuscany which
Tarchetius consulted, and received an answer that a virgin should give
herself to the apparition, and that a son should be born of her, highly
renowned, eminent for valor, good fortune, and strength of body.
Tarchetius told the prophecy to one of his own daughters, and commanded
her to do this thing; which she avoiding as an indignity, sent her
handmaid. Tarchetius, hearing this, in great anger imprisoned them
both, purposing to put them to death; but being deterred from murder by
the goddess Vesta in a dream, enjoined them for their punishment the
working a web of cloth, in their chains as they were, which when they
finished, they should be suffered to marry; but whatever they worked by
day, Tarchetius commanded others to unravel in the night. In the
meantime, the waiting-woman was delivered of two boys, whom Tarchetius
gave into the hands of one Teratius, with command to destroy them; he,
however, carried and laid them by the river side, where a wolf came and
continued to suckle them, while birds of various sorts brought little
morsels of food, which they put into their mouths; till a cow-herd,
spying them, was first strangely surprised, but, venturing to draw
nearer, took the children up in his arms. Thus they were saved, and,
when they grew up, set upon Tarchetius and overcame him. This one
Promathion says, who compiled a history of Italy.
But the story which is most believed and has the greatest number of
vouchers was first published, in its chief particulars, amongst the
Greeks by Diocles of Peparethus, whom Fabius Pictor also follows in
most points. Here again there are variations, but in general outline it
runs thus: the kings of Alba reigned in lineal descent from Aeneas and
the succession devolved at length upon two brothers, Numitor and
Amulius. Amulius proposed to divide things into two equal shares, and
set as equivalent to the kingdom the treasure and gold that were
brought from Troy. Numitor chose the kingdom; but Amulius, having the
money, and being able to do more with that than Numitor, took his
kingdom from him with great ease, and, fearing lest his daughter might
have children, made her a Vestal, bound in that condition forever to
live a single and maiden life. This lady some call Ilia, others Rhea,
and others Silvia; however, not long after, she was, contrary to the
established laws of the Vestals, discovered to be with child, and
should have suffered the most cruel punishment, had not Antho, the
king's daughter, mediated with her father for her; nevertheless, she
was confined, and debarred all company, that she might not be delivered
without the king's knowledge. In time she brought forth two boys, of
more than human size and beauty, whom Amulius, becoming yet more
alarmed, commanded a servant to take and cast away; this man some call
Faustulus, others say Faustulus was the man who brought them up. He put
the children, however, in a small trough, and went towards the river
with a design to cast them in; but, seeing the waters much swollen and
coming violently down, was afraid to go nearer, and, dropping the
children near the bank, went away. The river overflowing, the flood at
last bore up the trough, and, gently wafting it, landed them on a
smooth piece of ground, which they now call Cermanes, formerly
Germanus, perhaps from Germani, which signifies brothers.
Near this place grew a wild fig-tree, which they called Ruminalis,
either from Romulus (as it is vulgarly thought), or from ruminating,
because cattle did usually in the heat of the day seek cover under it,
and there chew the cud; or, better, from the suckling of these children
there, for the ancients called the dug or teat of any creature ruma,
and there is a tutelar goddess of the rearing of children whom they
still call Rumilia, in sacrificing to whom they use no wine, but make
libations of milk. While the infants lay here, history tells us, a she-
wolf nursed them, and a woodpecker constantly fed and watched them;
these creatures are esteemed holy to the god Mars, the woodpecker the
Latins still especially worship and honor. Which things, as much as
any, gave credit to what the mother of the children said, that their
father was the god Mars: though some say that it was a mistake put upon
her by Amulius, who himself had come to her dressed up in armor.
Others think that the first rise of this fable came from the children's
nurse, through the ambiguity of her name; for the Latins not only
called wolves lupae, but also women of loose life; and such an one was
the wife of Faustulus, who nurtured these children, Acca Larentia by
name. To her the Romans offer sacrifices, and in the month of April the
priest of Mars makes libations there; it is called the Larentian Feast.
They honor also another Larentia, for the following reason: the keeper
of Hercules's temple having, it seems, little else to do, proposed to
his deity a game at dice, laying down that, if he himself won, he would
have something valuable of the god; but if he were beaten, he would
spread him a noble table, and procure him a fair lady's company. Upon
these terms, throwing first for the god and then for himself, he found
himself beaten. Wishing to pay his stakes honorably, and holding
himself bound by what he had said, he both provided the deity a good
supper, and, giving money to Larentia, then in her beauty, though not
publicly known, gave her a feast in the temple, where he had also laid
a bed, and after supper locked her in, as if the god were really to
come to her. And indeed, it is said, the deity did truly visit her, and
commanded her in the morning to walk to the market-place, and, whatever
man see met first, to salute him, and make him her friend. She met one
named Tarrutius, who was a man advanced in years, fairly rich without
children, and had always lived a single life. He received Larentia, and
loved her well, and at his death left her sole heir of all his large
and fair possessions, most of which she, in her last will and
testament, bequeathed to the people. It was reported of her, being now
celebrated and esteemed the mistress of a god, that she suddenly
disappeared near the place where the first Larentia lay buried; the
spot is at this day called Velabrum, because, the river frequently
overflowing, they went over in ferry-boats somewhere hereabouts to the
forum, the Latin word for ferrying being velatura. Others derive the
name from velum, a sail; because the exhibitors of public shows used to
hang the road that leads from the forum to the Circus Maximus with
sails, beginning at this spot. Upon these accounts the second Larentia
is honored at Rome.
Meantime Faustulus, Amulius's swineherd, brought up the children
without any man's knowledge; or, as those say who wish to keep closer
to probabilities, with the knowledge and secret assistance of Numitor;
for it is said, they went to school at Gabii, and were well instructed
in letters, and other accomplishments befitting their birth. And they
were called Romulus and Remus, (from ruma, the dug,) as we had before,
because they were found sucking the wolf. In their very infancy, the
size and beauty of their bodies intimated their natural superiority;
and when they grew up, they both proved brave and manly, attempting all
enterprises that seemed hazardous, and showing in them a courage
altogether undaunted. But Romulus seemed rather to act by counsel, and
to show the sagacity of a statesman, and in all his dealings with their
neighbors, whether relating to feeding of flocks or to hunting, gave
the idea of being born rather to rule than to obey. To their comrades
and inferiors they were therefore dear; but the king's servants, his
bailiffs and overseers, as being in nothing better men than themselves,
they despised and slighted, nor were the least concerned at their
commands and menaces. They used honest pastimes and liberal studies,
not esteeming sloth and idleness honest and liberal, but rather such
exercises as hunting and running, repelling robbers, taking of thieves,
and delivering the wronged and oppressed from injury. For doing such
things they became famous.
A quarrel occurring between Numitor's and Amulius's cowherds, the
latter, not enduring the driving away of their cattle by the others,
fell upon them and put them to flight, and rescued the greatest part of
the prey. At which Numitor being highly incensed, they little regarded
it, but collected and took into their company a number of needy men and
runaway slaves,--acts which looked like the first stages of rebellion.
It so happened, that when Romulus was attending a sacrifice, being fond
of sacred rites and divination, Numitor's herdsmen, meeting with Remus
on a journey with few companions, fell upon him, and, after some
fighting, took him prisoner, carried him before Numitor, and there
accused him. Numitor would not punish him himself, fearing his
brother's anger, but went to Amulius, and desired justice, as he was
Amulius's brother and was affronted by Amulius's servants. The men of
Alba likewise resenting the thing, and thinking he had been
dishonorably used, Amulius was induced to deliver Remus up into
Numitor's hands, to use him as he thought fit. He therefore took and
carried him home, and, being struck with admiration of the youth's
person, in stature and strength of body exceeding all men, and
perceiving in his very countenance the courage and force of his mind,
which stood unsubdued and unmoved by his present circumstances, and
hearing further that all the enterprises and actions of his life were
answerable to what he saw of him, but chiefly, as it seemed, a divine
influence aiding and directing the first steps that were to lead to
great results, out of the mere thought of his mind, and casually, as it
were, he put his hand upon the fact, and, in gentle terms and with a
kind aspect, to inspire him with confidence and hope, asked him who he
was, and whence he was derived. He, taking heart, spoke thus: " I will
hide nothing from you, for you seem to be of a more princely temper
than Amulius, in that you give a hearing and examine before you punish,
while he condemns before the cause is heard. Formerly, then, we (for we
are twins) thought ourselves the sons of Faustulus and Larentia, the
king's servants; but since we have been accused and aspersed with
calumnies, and brought in peril of our lives here before you, we hear
great things of ourselves, the truth of which my present danger is
likely to bring to the test. Our birth is said to have been secret, our
fostering and nurture in our infancy still more strange; by birds and
beasts, to whom we were cast out, we were fed, by the milk of a wolf,
and the morsels of a woodpecker, as we lay in a little trough by the
side of the river. The trough is still in being, and is preserved, with
brass plates round it, and an inscription in letters almost effaced;
which may prove hereafter unavailing tokens to our parents when we are
dead and gone." Numitor, upon these words, and computing the dates by
the young man's looks, slighted not the hope that flattered him, but
considered how to come at his daughter privately (for she was still
kept under restraint), to talk with her concerning these matters.
Faustulus, hearing Remus was taken and delivered up, called on Romulus
to assist in his rescue, informing him then plainly of the particulars
of his birth, not but he had before given hints of it, and told as much
as an attentive man might make no small conclusions from; he himself,
full of concern and fear of not coming in time, took the trough, and
ran instantly to Numitor; but giving a suspicion to some of the king's
sentry at his gate, and being gazed upon by them and perplexed with
their questions, he let it be seen that he was hiding the trough under
his cloak. By chance there was one among them who was at the exposing
of the children, and was one employed in the office; he, seeing the
trough and knowing it by its make and inscription, guessed at the
business, and, without further delay, telling the king of it, brought
in the man to be examined. Faustulus, hard beset, did not show himself
altogether proof against terror; nor yet was he wholly forced out of
all; confessed indeed the children were alive, but lived, he said, as
shepherds, a great way from Alba; he himself was going to carry the
trough to Ilia, who had often greatly desired to see and handle it, for
a confirmation of her hopes of her children. As men generally do who
are troubled in mind and act either in fear or passion, it so fell out
Amulius now did; for he sent in haste as a messenger, a man, otherwise
honest, and friendly to Numitor, with commands to learn from Numitor
whether any tidings were come to him of the children's being alive. He,
coming and seeing how little Remus wanted of being received into the
arms and embraces of Numitor, both gave him surer confidence in his
hope, and advised them, with all expedition, to proceed to action;
himself too joining and assisting them, and indeed, had they wished it,
the time would not have let them demur. For Romulus was now come very
near, and many of the citizens, out of fear and hatred of Amulius, were
running out to join him; besides, he brought great forces with him,
divided into companies, each of an hundred men, every captain carrying
a small bundle of grass and shrubs tied to a pole. The Latins call such
bundles manipuli and from hence it is that in their armies still they
call their captains manipulares. Remus rousing the citizens within to
revolt, and Romulus making attacks from without, the tyrant, not
knowing either what to do, or what expedient to think of for his
security, in this perplexity and confusion was taken and put to death.
This narrative, for the most part given by Fabius and Diocles of
Peparethus, who seem to be the earliest historians of the foundation of
Rome, is suspected by some, because of its dramatic and fictitious
appearance; but it would not wholly be disbelieved, if men would
remember what a poet fortune sometimes shows herself, and consider that
the Roman power would hardly have reached so high a pitch without a
divinely ordered origin, attended with great and extraordinary
circumstances.
Amulius now being dead and matters quietly disposed, the two brothers
would neither dwell in Alba without governing there, nor take the
government into their own hands during the life of their grandfather.
Having therefore delivered the dominion up into his hands, and paid
their mother befitting honor, they resolved to live by themselves, and
build a city in the same place where they were in their infancy brought
up. This seems the most honorable reason for their departure; though
perhaps it was necessary, having such a body of slaves and fugitives
collected about them, either to come to nothing by dispersing them, or
if not so, then to live with them elsewhere. For that the inhabitants
of Alba did not think fugitives worthy of being received and
incorporated as citizens among them plainly appears from the matter of
the women, an attempt made not wantonly but of necessity, because they
could not get wives by good-will. For they certainly paid unusual
respect and honor to those whom they thus forcibly seized.
Not long after the first foundation of the city, they opened a
sanctuary of refuge for all fugitives, which they called the temple of
the god Asylaeus, where they received and protected all, delivering
none back, neither the servant to his master, the debtor to his
creditor, nor the murderer into the hands of the magistrate, saying it
was a privileged place, and they could so maintain it by an order of
the holy oracle; insomuch that the city grew presently very populous,
for, they say, it consisted at first of no more than a thousand houses.
But of that hereafter.
Their minds being fully bent upon building, there arose presently a
difference about the place where. Romulus chose what was called Roma
Quadrata, or the Square Rome, and would have the city there. Remus laid
out a piece of ground on the Aventine Mount, well fortified by nature,
which was from him called Remonium, but now Rignarium. Concluding at
last to decide the contest by a divination from a flight of birds, and
placing themselves apart at some distance, Remus, they say, saw six
vultures, and Romulus double the number; others say Remus did truly see
his number, and that Romulus feigned his, but, when Remus came to him,
that then he did, indeed, see twelve. Hence it is that the Romans, in
their divinations from birds, chiefly regard the vulture, though
Herodorus Ponticus relates that Hercules was always very joyful when a
vulture appeared to him upon any action. For it is a creature the least
hurtful of any, pernicious neither to corn, fruit-tree, nor cattle; it
preys only upon carrion, and never kills or hurts any living thing; and
as for birds, it touches not them, though they are dead, as being of
its own species, whereas eagles, owls, and hawks mangle and kill their
own fellow-creatures; yet, as Aeschylus says,--
What bird is clean that preys on fellow bird ?
Besides all other birds are, so to say, never out of our eyes; they let
themselves be seen of us continually; but a vulture is a very rare
sight, and you can seldom meet with a man that has seen their young;
their rarity and infrequency has raised a strange opinion in some, that
they come to us from some other world; as soothsayers ascribe a divine
origination to all things not produced either of nature or of
themselves.
When Remus knew the cheat, he was much displeased; and as Romulus was
casting up a ditch, where he designed the foundation of the citywall,
he turned some pieces of the work to ridicule, and obstructed others:
at last, as he was in contempt leaping over it, some say Romulus
himself struck him, others Celer, one of his companions; he fell,
however, and in the scuffle Faustulus also was slain, and Plistinus,
who, being Faustulus's brother, story tells us, helped to bring up
Romulus. Celer upon this fled instantly into Tuscany, and from him the
Romans call all men that are swift of foot Celeres; and because Quintus
Metellus, at his father's funeral, in a few days' time gave the people
a show of gladiators, admiring his expedition in getting it ready, they
gave him the name of Celer.
Romulus, having buried his brother Remus, together with his two foster-
fathers, on the mount Remonia, set to building his city; and sent for
men out of Tuscany, who directed him by sacred usages and written rules
in all the ceremonies to be observed, as in a religious rite. First,
they dug a round trench about that which is now the Comitium, or Court
of Assembly, and into it solemnly threw the first-fruits of all things
either good by custom or necessary by nature; lastly, every man taking
a small piece of earth of the country from whence he came, they all
threw them in promiscuously together. This trench they call, as they do
the heavens, Mundus; making which their center, they described the city
in a circle round it. Then the founder fitted to a plow a brazen
plowshare, and, yoking together a bull and a cow, drove himself a deep
line or furrow round the bounds; while the business of those that
followed after was to see that whatever earth was thrown up should be
turned all inwards towards the city, and not to let any clod lie
outside. With this line they described the wall, and called it, by a
contraction, Pomoerium, that is, post murum, after or beside the wall;
and where they designed to make a gate, there they took out the share,
carried the plow over, and left a space; for which reason they consider
the whole wall as holy, except where the gates are; for had they
adjudged them also sacred, they could not, without offense to religion,
have given free ingress and egress for the necessaries of human life,
some of which are in themselves unclean.
As for the day they began to build the city, it is universally agreed
to have been the twenty-first of April, and that day the Romans
annually keep holy, calling it their country's birthday. At first, they
say, they sacrificed no living creature on this day, thinking it fit to
preserve the feast of their country's birthday pure and without stain
of blood. Yet before ever the city was built, there was a feast of
herdsmen and shepherds kept on this day, which went by the name of
Palilia. The Roman and Greek months have now little or no agreement;
they say, however, the day on which Romulus began to build was quite
certainly the thirtieth of the month, at which time there was an
eclipse of the sun which they conceive to be that seen by Antimachus,
the Teian poet, in the third year of the sixth Olympiad. In the times
of Varro the philosopher, a man deeply read in Roman history, lived one
Tarrutius, his familiar acquaintance, a good philosopher and
mathematician, and one, too, that out of curiosity had studied the way
of drawing schemes and tables, and was thought to be a proficient in
the art; to him Varro propounded to cast Romulus's nativity, even to
the first day and hour, making his deductions from the several events
of the man's life which he should be informed of, exactly as in working
back a geometrical problem; for it belonged, he said, to the same
science both to foretell a man's life by knowing the time of his birth,
and also to find out his birth by the knowledge of his life. This task
Tarrutius undertook, and first looking into the actions and casualties
of the man, together with the time of his life and manner of his death,
and then comparing all these remarks together, he very confidently and
positively pronounced that Romulus was conceived in his mother's womb
the first year of the second Olympiad, the twenty-third day of the
month the Egyptians call Choeac, and the third hour after sunset, at
which time there was a total eclipse of the sun; that he was born the
twenty-first day of the month Thoth, about sun-rising; and that the
first stone of Rome was laid by him the ninth day of the month
Pharmuthi, between the second and third hour. For the fortunes of
cities as well as of men, they think, have their certain periods of
time prefixed, which may be collected and foreknown from the position
of the stars at their first foundation. But these and the like
relations may perhaps not so much take and delight the reader with
their novelty and curiosity, as offend him by their extravagance.
The city now being built, Romulus enlisted all that were of age to bear
arms into military companies, each company consisting of three thousand
footmen and three hundred horse. These companies were called legions,
because they were the choicest and most select of the people for
fighting men. The rest of the multitude he called the people; one
hundred of the most eminent he chose for counselors; these he styled
patricians, and their assembly the senate, which signifies a council of
elders. The patricians, some say, were so called because they were the
fathers of lawful children; others, because they could give a good
account who their own fathers were, which not every one of the rabble
that poured into the city at first could do; others, from patronage,
their word for protection of inferiors, the origin of which they
attribute to Patron, one of those that came over with Evander, who was
a great protector and defender of the weak and needy. But perhaps the
most probable judgment might be, that Romulus, esteeming it the duty of
the chiefest and wealthiest men, with a fatherly care and concern to
look after the meaner, and also encouraging the commonalty not to dread
or be aggrieved at the honors of their superiors, but to love and
respect them, and to think and call them their fathers, might from
hence give them the name of patricians. For at this very time all
foreigners give senators the style of lords; but the Romans, making use
of a more honorable and less invidious name, call them Patres
Conscripti; at first indeed simply Patres, but afterwards, more being
added, Patres Conscripti. By this more imposing title he distinguished
the senate from the populace; and in other ways also separated the
nobles and the commons,--calling them patrons, and these their
clients,--by which means he created wonderful love and amity between
them, productive of great justice in their dealings. For they were
always their clients' counselors in law cases, their advocates in
courts of justice, in fine their advisers and supporters in all affairs
whatever. These again faithfully served their patrons, not only paying
them all respect and deference, but also, in case of poverty, helping
them to portion their daughters and pay off their debts; and for a
patron to witness against his client, or a client against his patron,
was what no law nor magistrate could enforce. In after times all other
duties subsisting still between them, it was thought mean and
dishonorable for the better sort to take money from their inferiors.
And so much of these matters.
In the fourth month, after the city was built, as Fabius writes, the
adventure of stealing the women was attempted; and some say Romulus
himself, being naturally a martial man, and predisposed too, perhaps,
by certain oracles, to believe the fates had ordained the future growth
and greatness of Rome should depend upon the benefit of war, upon these
accounts first offered violence to the Sabines, since he took away only
thirty virgins, more to give an occasion of war than out of any want of
women. But this is not very probable; it would seem rather that,
observing his city to be filled by a confluence of foreigners, few of
whom had wives, and that the multitude in general, consisting of a
mixture of mean and obscure men, fell under contempt, and seemed to be
of no long continuance together, and hoping farther, after the women
were appeased, to make this injury in some measure an occasion of
confederacy and mutual commerce with the Sabines, he took in hand this
exploit after this manner. First, he gave it out as if he had found an
altar of a certain god hid under ground; the god they called Consus,
either the god of counsel (for they still call a consultation consilium
and their chief magistrates consules, namely, counselors), or else the
equestrian Neptune, for the altar is kept covered in the circus maximus
at all other times, and only at horse-races is exposed to public view;
others merely say that this god had his altar hid under ground because
counsel ought to be secret and concealed. Upon discovery of this altar,
Romulus, by proclamation, appointed a day for a splendid sacrifice, and
for public games and shows, to entertain all sorts of people; many
flocked thither, and he himself sat in front, amidst his nobles, clad
in purple. Now the signal for their falling on was to be whenever he
rose and gathered up his robe and threw it over his body; his men stood
all ready armed, with their eyes intent upon him, and when the sign was
given, drawing their swords and falling on with a great shout, they
ravished away the daughters of the Sabines, they themselves flying
without any let or hindrance. They say there were but thirty taken, and
from them the Curiae or Fraternities were named; but Valerius Antias
says five hundred and twenty-seven, Juba, six hundred and eighty-three
virgins; which was indeed the greatest excuse Romulus could allege,
namely, that they had taken no married woman, save one only, Hersilia
by name, and her too unknowingly; which showed they did not commit this
rape wantonly, but with a design purely of forming alliance with their
neighbors by the greatest and surest bonds. This Hersilia some say
Hostilius married, a most eminent man among the Romans; others, Romulus
himself, and that she bore two children to him, a daughter, by reason
of primogeniture called Prima, and one only son, whom, from the great
concourse of citizens to him at that time, he called Aollius, but after
ages Abillius. But Zenodotus the Troezenian, in giving this account, is
contradicted by many.
Among those who committed this rape upon the virgins, there were, they
say, as it so then happened, some of the meaner sort of men, who were
carrying off a damsel, excelling all in beauty and comeliness of
stature, whom when some of superior rank that met them attempted to
take away, they cried out they were carrying her to Talasius, a young
man, indeed, but brave and worthy; hearing that, they commended and
applauded them loudly, and also some, turning back, accompanied them
with good- will and pleasure, shouting out the name of Talasius. Hence
the Romans to this very time, at their weddings, sing Talasius for
their nuptial word, as the Greeks do Hymenaeus, because, they say,
Talasius was very happy in his marriage. But Sextius Sylla the
Carthaginian, a man wanting neither learning nor ingenuity, told me
Romulus gave this word as a sign when to begin the onset; everybody,
therefore, who made prize of a maiden, cried out, Talasius; and for
that reason the custom continues so now at marriages. But most are of
opinion (of whom Juba particularly is one) that this word was used to
new-married women by way of incitement to good housewifery and talasia
(spinning), as we say in Greek, Greek words at that time not being as
yet overpowered by Italian. But if this be the case, and if the Romans
did at that time use the word talasia as we do, a man might fancy a
more probable reason of the custom. For when the Sabines, after the war
against the Romans, were reconciled, conditions were made concerning
their women, that they should be obliged to do no other servile offices
to their husbands but what concerned spinning; it was customary,
therefore, ever after, at weddings, for those that gave the bride or
escorted her or otherwise were present, sportingly to say Talasius,
intimating that she was henceforth to serve in spinning and no more. It
continues also a custom at this very day for the bride not of herself
to pass her husband's threshold, but to be lifted over, in memory that
the Sabine virgins were carried in by violence, and did not go in of
their own will. Some say, too, the custom of parting the bride's hair
with the head of a spear was in token their marriages began at first by
war and acts of hostility, of which I have spoken more fully in my book
of Questions.
This rape was committed on the eighteenth day of the month Sextilis,
now called August, on which the solemnities of the Consualia are kept.
The Sabines were a numerous and martial people, but lived in small,
unfortified villages, as it befitted, they thought, a colony of the
Lacedaemonians to be bold and fearless; nevertheless, seeing themselves
bound by such hostages to their good behavior, and being solicitous for
their daughters, they sent ambassadors to Romulus with fair and
equitable requests, that he would return their young women and recall
that act of violence, and afterwards, by persuasion and lawful means,
seek friendly correspondence between both nations. Romulus would not
part with the young women, yet proposed to the Sabines to enter into an
alliance with them; upon which point some consulted and demurred long,
but Acron, king of the Ceninenses, a man of high spirit and a good
warrior, who had all along a jealousy of Romulus's bold attempts, and
considering particularly from this exploit upon the women that he was
growing formidable to all people, and indeed insufferable, were he not
chastised, first rose up in arms, and with a powerful army advanced
against him. Romulus likewise prepared to receive him; but when they
came within sight and viewed each other, they made a challenge to fight
a single duel, the armies standing by under arms, without
participation. And Romulus, making a vow to Jupiter, if he should
conquer, to carry, himself, and dedicate his adversary's armor to his
honor, overcame him in combat, and, a battle ensuing, routed his army
also, and then took his city; but did those he found in it no injury,
only commanded them to demolish the place and attend him to Rome, there
to be admitted to all the privileges of citizens. And indeed there was
nothing did more advance the greatness of Rome, than that she did
always unite and incorporate those whom she conquered into herself.
Romulus, that he might perform his vow in the most acceptable manner to
Jupiter, and withal make the pomp of it delightful to the eye of the
city, cut down a tall oak which he saw growing in the camp, which he
trimmed to the shape of a trophy, and fastened on it Acron's whole suit
of armor disposed in proper form; then he himself, girding his clothes
about him, and crowning his head with a laurel-garland, his hair
gracefully flowing, carried the trophy resting erect upon his right
shoulder, and so marched on, singing songs of triumph, and his whole
army following after, the citizens all receiving him with acclamations
of joy and wonder. The procession of this day was the origin and model
of all after triumphs. This trophy was styled an offering to Jupiter
Feretrius, from ferire, which in Latin is to smite; for Romulus prayed
he might smite and overthrow his enemy; and the spoils were called
opima, or royal spoils, says Varro, from their richness, which the word
opes signifies; though one would more probably conjecture from opus, an
act; for it is only to the general of an army who with his own hand
kills his enemies' general that this honor is granted of offering the
opima spolia. And three only of the Roman captains have had it
conferred on them: first, Romulus, upon killing Acron the Ceninensian;
next, Cornelius Cossus, for slaying Tolumnius the Tuscan; and lastly,
Claudius Marcellus, upon his conquering Viridomarus, king of the Gauls.
The two latter, Cossus and Marcellus, made their entries in triumphant
chariots, bearing their trophies themselves; but that Romulus made use
of a chariot, Dionysius is wrong in asserting. History says,
Tarquinius, Damaratus's son, was the first that brought triumphs to
this great pomp and grandeur; others, that Publicola was the first that
rode in triumph. The statues of Romulus in triumph are, as may be seen
in Rome, all on foot.
After the overthrow of the Ceninensians, the other Sabines still
protracting the time in preparations, the people of Fidenae,
Crustumerium, and Antemna, joined their forces against the Romans; they
in like manner were defeated in battle, and surrendered up to Romulus
their cities to be seized, their lands and territories to be divided,
and themselves to be transplanted to Rome. All the lands which Romulus
acquired, he distributed among the citizens, except only what the
parents of the stolen virgins had; these he suffered to possess their
own. The rest of the Sabines, enraged hereat, choosing Tatius their
captain, marched straight against Rome. The city was almost
inaccessible, having for its fortress that which is now the Capitol,
where a strong guard was placed, and Tarpeius their captain; not
Tarpeia the virgin, as some say who would make Romulus a fool. But
Tarpeia, daughter to the captain, coveting the golden bracelets she saw
them wear, betrayed the fort into the Sabines' hands, and asked, in
reward of her treachery, the things they wore on their left arms.
Tatius conditioning thus with her, in the night she opened one of the
gates, and received the Sabines in. And truly Antigonus, it would seem,
was not solitary in saying, he loved betrayers, but hated those who had
betrayed; nor Caesar, who told Rhymitalces the Thracian, that he loved
the treason, but hated the traitor; but it is the general feeling of
all who have occasion for wicked men's service, as people have for the
poison of venomous beasts; they are glad of them while they are of use,
and abhor their baseness when it is over. And so then did Tatius behave
towards Tarpeia, for he commanded the Sabines, in regard to their
contract, not to refuse her the least part of what they wore on their
left arms; and he himself first took his bracelet of his arm, and threw
that, together with his buckler, at her; and all the rest following,
she, being borne down and quite buried with the multitude of gold and
their shields, died under the weight and pressure of them; Tarpeius
also himself, being prosecuted by Romulus, was found guilty of treason,
as Juba says Sulpicius Galba relates. Those who write otherwise
concerning Tarpeia, as that she was the daughter of Tatius, the Sabine
captain, and, being forcibly detained by Romulus, acted and suffered
thus by her father's contrivance, speak very absurdly, of whom
Antigonus is one. And Simylus, the poet, who thinks Tarpeia betrayed
the Capitol, not to the Sabines, but the Gauls, having fallen in love
with their king, talks mere folly, saying thus:--
Tarpeia 'twas, who, dwelling close thereby,
Laid open Rome unto the enemy.
She, for the love of the besieging Gaul,
Betrayed the city's strength, the Capitol.
And a little after, speaking of her death:--
The numerous nations of the Celtic foe
Bore her not living to the banks of Po;
Their heavy shields upon the maid they threw,
And with their splendid gifts entombed at once and slew.
Tarpeia afterwards was buried there, and the hill from her was called
Tarpeius, until the reign of king Tarquin, who dedicated the place to
Jupiter, at which time her bones were removed, and so it lost her name,
except only that part of the Capitol which they still call the Tarpeian
Rock, from which they used to cast down malefactors.
The Sabines being possessed of the hill, Romulus, in great fury, bade
them battle, and Tatius was confident to accept it, perceiving, if they
were overpowered, that they had behind them a secure retreat. The level
in the middle, where they were to join battle, being surrounded with
many little hills, seemed to enforce both parties to a sharp and
desperate conflict, by reason of the difficulties of the place, which
had but a few outlets, inconvenient either for refuge or pursuit. It
happened, too, the river having overflowed not many days before, there
was left behind in the plain, where now the forum stands, a deep blind
mud and slime, which, though it did not appear much to the eye, and was
not easily avoided, at bottom was deceitful and dangerous; upon which
the Sabines being unwarily about to enter, met with a piece of good
fortune; for Curtius, a gallant man, eager of honor, and of aspiring
thoughts, being mounted on horseback, was galloping on before the rest,
and mired his horse here, and, endeavoring for awhile by whip and spur
and voice to disentangle him, but finding it impossible, quitted him
and saved himself; the place from him to this very time is called the
Curtian Lake. The Sabines, having avoided this danger, began the fight
very smartly, the fortune of the day being very dubious, though many
were slain; amongst whom was Hostilius, who, they say, was husband to
Hersilia, and grandfather to that Hostilius who reigned after Numa.
There were many other brief conflicts, we may suppose, but the most
memorable was the last, in which Romulus having received a wound on his
head by a stone, and being almost felled to the ground by it, and
disabled, the Romans gave way, and, being driven out of the level
ground, fled towards the Palatium. Romulus, by this time recovering
from his wound a little, turned about to renew the battle, and, facing
the fliers, with a loud voice encouraged them to stand and fight. But
being overborne with numbers, and nobody daring to face about,
stretching out his hands to heaven, he prayed to Jupiter to stop the
army, and not to neglect but maintain the Roman cause, now in extreme
danger. The prayer was no sooner made, than shame and respect for their
king checked many; the fears of the fugitives changed suddenly into
confidence. The place they first stood at was where now is the temple
of Jupiter Stator (which may be translated the Stayer); there they
rallied again into ranks, and repulsed the Sabines to the place called
now Regia, and to the temple of Vesta; where both parties, preparing to
begin a second battle, were prevented by a spectacle, strange to
behold, and defying description. For the daughters of the Sabines, who
had been carried off, came running, in great confusion, some on this
side, some on that, with miserable cries and lamentations, like
creatures possessed, in the midst of the army, and among the dead
bodies, to come at their husbands and their fathers, some with their
young babes in their arms, others their hair loose about their ears,
but all calling, now upon the Sabines, now upon the Romans, in the most
tender and endearing words. Hereupon both melted into compassion, and
fell back, to make room for them between the armies. The sight of the
women carried sorrow and commiseration upon both sides into the hearts
of all, but still more their words, which began with expostulation and
upbraiding, and ended with entreaty and supplication.
"Wherein," say they, "have we injured or offended you, as to deserve
such sufferings, past and present? We were ravished away unjustly and
violently by those whose now we are; that being done, we were so long
neglected by our fathers, our brothers, and countrymen, that time,
having now by the strictest bonds united us to those we once mortally
hated, has made it impossible for us not to tremble at the danger and
weep at the death of the very men who once used violence to us. You did
not come to vindicate our honor, while we were virgins, against our
assailants; but do come now to force away wives from their husbands and
mothers from their children, a succor more grievous to its wretched
objects than the former betrayal and neglect of them. Which shall we
call the worst, their love-making or your compassion? If you were
making war upon any other occasion, for our sakes you ought to withhold
your hands from those to whom we have made you fathers-in-law and
grandsires. If it be for our own cause, then take us, and with us your
sons-in-law and grandchildren. Restore to us our parents and kindred,
but do not rob us of our children and husbands. Make us not, we entreat
you, twice captives." Hersilia having spoken many such words as these,
and the others earnestly praying, a truce was made, and the chief
officers came to a parley; the women, in the mean time, brought and
presented their husbands and children to their fathers and brothers;
gave those that wanted, meat and drink, and carried the wounded home to
be cured, and showed also how much they governed within doors, and how
indulgent their husbands were to them, in demeaning themselves towards
them with all kindness and respect imaginable. Upon this, conditions
were agreed upon, that what women pleased might stay where they were,
exempt, as aforesaid, from all drudgery and labor but spinning; that
the Romans and Sabines should inhabit the city together; that the city
should be called Rome, from Romulus; but the Romans, Quirites, from the
country of Tatius; and that they both should govern and command in
common. The place of the ratification is still called Comitium, from
coire, to meet.
The city being thus doubled in number, one hundred of the Sabines were
elected senators, and the legions were increased to six thousand foot
and six hundred horse; then they divided the people into three tribes;
the first, from Romulus, named Ramnenses; the second, from Tatius,
Tatienses; the third, Luceres, from the lucus, or grove, where the
Asylum stood, whither many fled for sanctuary, and were received into
the city. And that they were just three, the very name of tribe and
tribune seems to show; each tribe contained ten curiae, or
brotherhoods, which, some say, took their names from the Sabine women;
but that seems to be false, because many had their names from various
places. Though it is true, they then constituted many things in honor
to the women; as to give them the way wherever they met them; to speak
no ill word in their presence; not to appear naked before them, or else
be liable to prosecution before the judges of homicide; that their
children should wear an ornament about their necks called the bulla
(because it was like a bubble), and the praetexta, a gown edged with
purple.
The princes did not immediately join in council together, but at first
each met with his own hundred; afterwards all assembled together.
Tatius dwelt where now the temple of Moneta stands, and Romulus, close
by the steps, as they call them, of the Fair Shore, near the descent
from the Mount Palatine to the Circus Maximus. There, they say, grew
the holy cornel tree, of which they report, that Romulus once, to try
his strength, threw a dart from the Aventine Mount, the staff of which
was made of cornel, which struck so deep into the ground, that no one
of many that tried could pluck it up; and the soil, being fertile, gave
nourishment to the wood, which sent forth branches, and produced a
cornel-stock of considerable bigness. This did posterity preserve and
worship as one of the most sacred things; and, therefore, walled it
about; and if to any one it appeared not green nor flourishing, but
inclining to pine and wither, he immediately made outcry to all he met,
and they, like people hearing of a house on fire, with one accord would
cry for water, and run from all parts with buckets full to the place.
But when Caius Caesar, they say, was repairing the steps about it, some
of the laborers digging too close, the roots were destroyed, and the
tree withered.
The Sabines adopted the Roman months, of which whatever is remarkable
is mentioned in the Life of Numa. Romulus, on the other hand, adopted
their long shields, and changed his own armor and that of all the
Romans, who before wore round targets of the Argive pattern. Feasts and
sacrifices they partook of in common, not abolishing any which either
nation observed before, and instituting several new ones; of which one
was the Matronalia, instituted in honor of the women. for their
extinction of the war; likewise the Carmentalia. This Carmenta some
think a deity presiding over human birth; for which reason she is much
honored by mothers. Others say she was the wife of Evander, the
Arcadian, being a prophetess, and wont to deliver her oracles in verse,
and from carmen, a verse, was called Carmenta; her proper name being
Nicostrata. Others more probably derive Carmenta from carens mente, or
insane, in allusion to her prophetic frenzies. Of the Feast of Palilia
we have spoken before. The Lupercalia, by the time of its celebration,
may seem to be a feast of purification, for it is solemnized on the
dies nefasti, or non-court days, of the month February, which name
signifies purification, and the very day of the feast was anciently
called Februata; but its name is equivalent to the Greek Lycaea; and it
seems thus to be of great antiquity, and brought in by the Arcadians
who came with Evander. Yet this is but dubious, for it may come as well
from the wolf that nursed Romulus; and we see the Luperci, the priests,
begin their course from the place where they say Romulus was exposed.
But the ceremonies performed in it render the origin of the thing more
difficult to be guessed at; for there are goats killed, then, two young
noblemen's sons being brought, some are to stain their foreheads with
the bloody knife, others presently to wipe it off with wool dipped in
milk; then the young boys must laugh after their foreheads are wiped;
that done, having cut the goats' skins into thongs, they run about
naked, only with something about their middle, lashing all they meet;
and the young wives do not avoid their strokes, fancying they will help
conception and child-birth. Another thing peculiar to this feast is for
the Luperci to sacrifice a dog. But as, a certain poet who wrote
fabulous explanations of Roman customs in elegiac verses, says, that
Romulus and Remus, after the conquest of Amulius, ran joyfully to the
place where the wolf gave them suck; and that in imitation of that,
this feast was held, and two young noblemen ran--
Striking at all, as when from Alba town,
With sword in hand, the twins came hurrying down;
and that the bloody knife applied to their foreheads was a sign of the
danger and bloodshed of that day; the cleansing of them in milk, a
remembrance of their food and nourishment. Caius Acilius writes, that,
before the city was built, the cattle of Romulus and Remus one day
going astray, they, praying to the god Faunus, ran out to seek them
naked, wishing not to be troubled with sweat, and that this is why the
Luperci run naked. If the sacrifice be by way of purification, a dog
might very well be sacrificed; for the Greeks, in their lustrations,
carry out young dogs, and frequently use this ceremony of
periscylacismus as they call it. Or if again it is a sacrifice of
gratitude to the wolf that nourished and preserved Romulus, there is
good reason in killing a dog, as being an enemy to wolves. Unless
indeed, after all, the creature is punished for hindering the Luperci
in their running.
They say, too, Romulus was the first that consecrated holy fire, and
instituted holy virgins to keep it, called vestals; others ascribe it
to Numa Pompilius; agreeing, however, that Romulus was otherwise
eminently religious, and skilled in divination, and for that reason
carried the lituus, a crooked rod with which soothsayers describe the
quarters of the heavens, when they sit to observe the flights of birds.
This of his, being kept in the Palatium, was lost when the city was
taken by the Gauls; and afterwards, that barbarous people being driven
out, was found in the ruins, under a great heap of ashes, untouched by
the fire, all things about it being consumed and burnt. He instituted
also certain laws, one of which is somewhat severe, which suffers not a
wife to leave her husband, but grants a husband power to turn off his
wife, either upon poisoning her children; or counterfeiting his keys,
or for adultery; but if the husband upon any other occasion put her
away, he ordered one moiety of his estate to be given to the wife, the
other to fall to the goddess Ceres; and whoever cast off his wife, to
make an atonement by sacrifice to the gods of the dead. This, too, is
observable as a singular thing in Romulus, that he appointed no
punishment for real parricide, but called all murder so, thinking the
one an accursed thing, but the other a thing impossible; and, for a
long time, his judgment seemed to have been right; for in almost six
hundred years together, nobody committed the like in Rome; and Lucius
Hostius, after the wars of Hanibal, is recorded to have been the first
parricide. Let thus much suffice concerning these matters.
In the fifth year of the reign of Tatius, some of his friends and
kinsmen, meeting ambassadors coming from Laurentum to Rome, attempted
on the road to take away their money by force, and, upon their
resistance, killed them. So great a villainy having been committed,
Romulus thought the malefactors ought at once to be punished, but
Tatius shuffled off and deferred the execution of it; and this one
thing was the beginning of open quarrel between them; in all other
respects they were very careful of their conduct, and administered
affairs together with great unanimity. The relations of the slain,
being debarred of lawful satisfaction by reason of Tatius, fell upon
him as he was sacrificing with Romulus at Lavinium, and slew him; but
escorted Romulus home, commending and extolling him for a just prince.
Romulus took the body of Tatius, and buried it very splendidly in the
Aventine Mount, near the place called Armilustrium, but altogether
neglected revenging his murder. Some authors write, the city of
Laurentum, fearing the consequence, delivered up the murderers of
Tatius; but Romulus dismissed them, saying, one murder was requited
with another. This gave occasion of talk and jealousy, as if he were
well pleased at the removal of his copartner in the government. Nothing
of these things, however, raised any sort of feud or disturbance among
the Sabines; but some out of love to him, others out of fear of his
power, some again reverencing him as a god, they all continued living
peacefully in admiration and awe of him; many foreign nations, too,
showed respect to Romulus; the Ancient Latins sent, and entered into
league and confederacy with him. Fidenae he took, a neighboring city to
Rome, by a party of horse, as some say, whom he sent before with
commands to cut down the hinges of the gates, himself afterwards
unexpectedly coming up. Others say, they having first made the
invasion, plundering and ravaging the country and suburbs, Romulus lay
in ambush for them, and, having killed many of their men, took the
city; but, nevertheless, did not raze or demolish it, but made it a
Roman colony, and sent thither, on the Ides of April, two thousand five
hundred inhabitants.
Soon after a plague broke out, causing sudden death without any
previous sickness; it infected also the corn with unfruitfulness, and
cattle with barrenness; there rained blood, too, in the city; so that,
to their actual sufferings, fear of the wrath of the gods was added.
But when the same mischiefs fell upon Laurentum, then everybody judged
it was divine vengeance that fell upon both cities, for the neglect of
executing justice upon the murder of Tatius and the ambassadors. But
the murderers on both sides being delivered up and punished, the
pestilence visibly abated; and Romulus purified the cities with
lustrations, which, they say, even now are performed at the wood called
Ferentina. But before the plague ceased, the Camertines invaded the
Romans and overran the country, thinking them, by reason of the
distemper, unable to resist; but Romulus at once made head against
them, and gained the victory, with the slaughter of six thousand men;
then took their city, and brought half of those he found there to Rome;
sending from Rome to Camerium double the number he left there. This was
done the first of August. So many citizens had he to spare, in sixteen
years' time from his first founding Rome. Among other spoils, he took a
brazen four-horse chariot from Camerium, which he placed in the temple
of Vulcan, setting on it his own statue, with a figure of Victory
crowning him.
The Roman cause thus daily gathering strength, their weaker neighbors
shrunk away, and were thankful to be left untouched; but the stronger,
out of fear or envy, thought they ought not to give way to Romulus, but
to curb and put a stop to his growing greatness. The first were the
Veientes, a people of Tuscany, who had large possessions, and dwelt in
a spacious city; they took occasion to commence a war, by claiming
Fidenae as belonging to them; a thing not only very unreasonable, but
very ridiculous, that they, who did not assist them in the greatest
extremities, but permitted them to be slain, should challenge their
lands and houses when in the hands of others. But being scornfully
retorted upon by Romulus in his answers, they divided themselves into
two bodies; with one they attacked the garrison of Fidenae, the other
marched against Romulus; that which went against Fidenae got the
victory, and slew two thousand Romans; the other was worsted by
Romulus, with the loss of eight thousand men. A fresh battle was fought
near Fidenae, and here all men acknowledge the day's success to have
been chiefly the work of Romulus himself, who showed the highest skill
as well as courage, and seemed to manifest a strength and swiftness
more than human. But what some write, that, of fourteen thousand that
fell that day, above half were slain by Romulus's own hand, verges too
near to fable, and is, indeed, simply incredible; since even the
Messenians are thought to go too far in saying that Aristomenes three
times offered sacrifice for the death of a hundred enemies,
Lacedaemonians, slain by himself. The army being thus routed, Romulus,
suffering those that were left to make their escape, led his forces
against the city; they, having suffered such great losses, did not
venture to oppose, but, humbly suing to him, made a league and
friendship for an hundred years; surrendering also a large district of
land called Septempagium, that is, the seven parts, as also their
salt-works upon the river, and fifty noblemen for hostages. He made his
triumph for this on the Ides of October, leading, among the rest of his
many captives, the general of the Veientes, an elderly man, but who had
not, it seemed, acted with the prudence of age; whence even now, in
sacrifices for victories, they lead an old man through the market place
to the Capitol, appareled in purple, with a bulla, or child's toy, tied
to it, and the crier cries, Sardians to be sold; for the Tuscans are
said to be a colony of the Sardians, and the Veientes are a city of
Tuscany.
This was the last battle Romulus ever fought; afterwards he, as most,
nay all men, very few excepted, do, who are raised by great and
miraculous good-haps of fortune to power and greatness, so, I say, did
he; relying upon his own great actions, and growing of an haughtier
mind, he forsook his popular behavior for kingly arrogance, odious to
the people; to whom in particular the state which he assumed was
hateful. For he dressed in scarlet, with the purple-bordered robe over
it; he gave audience on a couch of state, having always about him some
young men called Celeres, from their swiftness in doing commissions;
there went before him others with staves, to make room, with leather
thongs tied on their bodies, to bind on the moment whomever he
commanded. The Latins formerly used ligare in the same sense as now
alligare, to bind, whence the name lictors, for these officers, and
bacula, or staves, for their rods, because staves were then used. It is
probable, however, they were first called litores, afterwards, by
putting in a c, lictores, or, in Greek, liturgi, or people's officers,
for leitos is still Greek for the commons, and laos for the people in
general.
But when, after the death of his grandfather Numitor in Alba, the
throne devolving upon Romulus, he, to court the people, put the
government into their own hands, and appointed an annual magistrate
over the Albans, this taught the great men of Rome to seek after a free
and anti- monarchical state, wherein all might in turn be subjects and
rulers. For neither were the patricians any longer admitted to state
affairs, only had the name and title left them, convening in council
rather for fashion's sake than advice, where they heard in silence the
king's commands, and so departed, exceeding the commonalty only in
hearing first what was done. These and the like were matters of small
moment; but when he of his own accord parted among his soldiers what
lands were acquired by war, and restored the Veientes their hostages,
the senate neither consenting nor approving of it, then, indeed, he
seemed to put a great affront upon them; so that, on his sudden and
strange disappearance a short while after, the senate fell under
suspicion and calumny. He disappeared on the Nones of July, as they now
call the month which was then Quintilis, leaving nothing of certainty
to be related of his death; only the time, as just mentioned, for on
that day many ceremonies are still performed in representation of what
happened. Neither is this uncertainty to be thought strange, seeing the
manner of the death of Scipio Africanus, who died at his own home after
supper, has been found capable neither of proof or disproof; for some
say he died a natural death, being of a sickly habit; others, that he
poisoned himself; others again, that his enemies, breaking in upon him
in the night, stifled him. Yet Scipio's dead body lay open to be seen
of all, and any one, from his own observation, might form his
suspicions and conjectures; whereas Romulus, when he vanished, left
neither the least part of his body, nor any remnant of his clothes to
be seen. So that some fancied, the senators, having fallen upon him ill
the temple of Vulcan, cut his body into pieces, and took each a part
away in his bosom; others think his disappearance was neither in the
temple of Vulcan, nor with the senators only by, but that, it came to
pass that, as he was haranguing the people without the city, near a
place called the Goat's Marsh, on a sudden strange and unaccountable
disorders and alterations took place in the air; the face of the sun
was darkened, and the day turned into night, and that, too, no quiet,
peaceable night, but with terrible thunderings, and boisterous winds
from all quarters; during which the common people dispersed and fled,
but the senators kept close together. The tempest being over and the
light breaking out, when the people gathered again, they missed and
inquired for their king; the senators suffered them not to search, or
busy themselves about the matter, but commanded them to honor and
worship Romulus as one taken up to the gods, and about to be to them,
in the place of a good prince, now a propitious god. The multitude,
hearing this, went away believing and rejoicing in hopes of good things
from him; but there were some, who, canvassing the matter in a hostile
temper, accused and aspersed the patricians, as men that persuaded the
people to believe ridiculous tales, when they themselves were the
murderers of the king.
Things being in this disorder, one, they say, of the patricians, of
noble family and approved good character, and a faithful and familiar
friend of Romulus himself, having come with him from Alba, Julius
Proculus by name, presented himself in the forum; and, taking a most
sacred oath, protested before them all, that, as he was traveling on
the road, he had seen Romulus coming to meet him, looking taller and
comelier than ever, dressed in shining and faming armor; and he, being
affrighted at the apparition, said, "Why, O king, or for what purpose
have you abandoned us to unjust and wicked surmises, and the whole city
to bereavement and endless sorrow?" and that he made answer, "It
pleased the gods, O Proculus, that we, who came from them, should
remain so long a time amongst men as we did; and, having built a city
to be the greatest in the world for empire and glory, should again
return to heaven. But farewell; and tell the Romans, that, by the
exercise of temperance and fortitude, they shall attain the height of
human power; we will be to you the propitious god Quirinus." This
seemed credible to the Romans, upon the honesty and oath of the
relater, and indeed, too, there mingled with it a certain divine
passion, some preternatural influence similar to possession by a
divinity; nobody contradicted it, but, laying aside all jealousies and
detractions, they prayed to Quirinus and saluted him as a god.
This is like some of the Greek fables of Aristeas the Proconnesian, and
Cleomedes the Astypalaean; for they say Aristeas died in a fuller's
work-shop, and his friends, coming to look for him, found his body
vanished; and that some presently after, coming from abroad, said they
met him traveling towards Croton. And that Cleomedes, being an
extraordinarily strong and gigantic man, but also wild and mad,
committed many desperate freaks; and at last, in a school-house,
striking a pillar that sustained the roof with his fist, broke it in
the middle, so that the house fell and destroyed the children in it;
and being pursued, he fled into a great chest, and, shutting to the
lid, held it so fast, that many men, with their united strength, could
not force it open; afterwards, breaking the chest to pieces, they found
no man in it alive or dead; in astonishment at which, they sent to
consult the oracle at Delphi; to whom the prophetess made this answer,
Of all the heroes, Cleomede is last.
They say, too, the body of Alcmena, as they were carrying her to her
grave, vanished, and a stone was found lying on the bier. And many such
improbabilities do your fabulous writers relate, deifying creatures
naturally mortal; for though altogether to disown a divine nature in
human virtue were impious and base, so again to mix heaven with earth
is ridiculous. Let us believe with Pindar, that
All human bodies yield to Death's decree,
The soul survives to all eternity.
For that alone is derived from the gods, thence comes, and thither
returns; not with the body, but when most disengaged and separated from
it, and when most entirely pure and clean and free from the flesh; for
the most perfect soul, says Heraclitus, is a dry light, which flies out
of the body as lightning breaks from a cloud; but that which is clogged
and surfeited with body is like gross and humid incense, slow to kindle
and ascend. We must not, therefore, contrary to nature, send the
bodies, too, of good men to heaven; but we must really believe that,
according to their divine nature and law, their virtue and their souls
are translated out of men into heroes, out of heroes into demi-gods,
out of demi-gods, after passing, as in the rite of initiation, through
a final cleansing and sanctification, and so freeing themselves from
all that pertains to mortality and sense, are thus, not by human
decree, but really and according to right reason, elevated into gods,
admitted thus to the greatest and most blessed perfection.
Romulus's surname Quirinus, some say, is equivalent to Mars; others,
that he was so called because the citizens were called Quirites;
others, because the ancients called a dart or spear Quiris; thus, the
statue of Juno resting on a spear is called Quiritis, and the dart in
the Regia is addressed as Mars, and those that were distinguished in
war were usually presented with a dart; that, therefore, Romulus, being
a martial god, or a god of darts, was called Quirinus. A temple is
certainly built to his honor on the mount called from him Quirinalis.
The day he vanished on is called the Flight of the People, and the
Nones of the Goats, because they go then out of the city, and sacrifice
at the Goat's Marsh, and, as they go, they shout out some of the Roman
names, as Marcus, Lucius, Caius, imitating the way in which they then
fled and called upon one another in that fright and hurry. Some,
however, say, this was not in imitation of a flight, but of a quick and
hasty onset, referring it to the following occasion: after the Gauls
who had taken Rome were driven out by Camillus, and the city was
scarcely as yet recovering her strength, many of the Latins, under the
command of Livius Postumius, took this time to march against her.
Postumius, halting not far from Rome, sent a herald, signifying that
the Latins were desirous to renew their former alliance and affinity
(that was now almost decayed) by contracting new marriages between both
nations; if, therefore, they would send forth a good number of their
virgins and widows, they should have peace and friendship, such as the
Sabines had formerly had on the like conditions. The Romans, hearing
this, dreaded a war, yet thought a surrender of their women little
better than mere captivity. Being in this doubt, a servant-maid called
Philotis (or, as some say, Tutola), advised them to do neither, but, by
a stratagem, avoid both fighting and the giving up of such pledges. The
stratagem was this, that they should send herself, with other
well-looking servant-maids, to the enemy, in the dress of free-born
virgins, and she should in the night light up a fire-signal, at which
the Romans should come armed and surprise them asleep. The Latins were
thus deceived, and accordingly Philotis set up a torch in a wild
fig-tree, screening it behind with curtains and coverlets from the
sight of the enemy, while visible to the Romans. They, when they saw
it, eagerly ran out of the gates, calling in their haste to each other
as they went out, and so, falling in unexpectedly upon the enemy, they
defeated them, and upon that made a feast of triumph, called the Nones
of the Goats, because of the wild fig-tree, called by the Romans
Caprificus, or the goat-fig. They feast the women without the city in
arbors made of fig-tree boughs and the maid-servants gather together
and run about playing; afterwards they fight in sport, and throw stones
one at another, in memory that they then aided and assisted the Roman
men in fight. This only a few authors admit for true; For the calling
upon one another's names by day and the going out to the Goat's Marsh
to do sacrifice seem to agree more with the former story, unless,
indeed, we shall say that both the actions might have happened on the
same day in different years. It was in the fifty-fourth year of his age
and the thirty-eighth of his reign that Romulus, they tell us, left the
world.
COMPARISON OF ROMULUS WITH THESEUS
This is what I have learnt of Romulus and Theseus, worthy of memory. It
seems, first of all, that Theseus, out of his own free-will, without
any compulsion, when he might have reigned in security at Troezen in
the enjoyment of no inglorious empire, of his own motion affected great
actions, whereas the other, to escape present servitude and a
punishment that threatened him, (according to Plato's phrase) grew
valiant purely out of fear, and dreading the extremest inflictions,
attempted great enterprises out of mere necessity. Again, his greatest
action was only the killing of one king of Alba; while, as mere
by-adventures and preludes, the other can name Sciron, Sinnis,
Procrustes, and Corynetes; by reducing and killing of whom, he rid
Greece of terrible oppressors, before any of them that were relieved
knew who did it; moreover, he might without any trouble as well have
gone to Athens by sea, considering he himself never was in the least
injured by those robbers; where as Romulus could not but be in trouble
whilst Amulius lived. Add to this the fact that Theseus, for no wrong
done to himself, but for the sake of others, fell upon these villains;
but Romulus and Remus, as long as they themselves suffered no ill by
the tyrant, permitted him to oppress all others. And if it be a great
thing to have been wounded in battle by the Sabines, to have killed
king Acron, and to have conquered many enemies, we may oppose to these
actions the battle with the Centaurs and the feats done against the
Amazons. But what Theseus adventured, in offering himself voluntarily
with young boys and virgins, as part of the tribute unto Crete, either
to be a prey to a monster or a victim upon the tomb of Androgeus, or,
according to the mildest form of the story, to live vilely and
dishonorably in slavery to insulting and cruel men; it is not to be
expressed what an act of courage, magnanimity, or justice to the
public, or of love for honor and bravery, that was. So that methinks
the philosophers did not ill define love to be the provision of the
gods for the care and preservation of the young; for the love of
Ariadne, above all, seems to have been the proper work and design of
some god in order to preserve Theseus; and, indeed, we ought not to
blame her for loving him, but rather wonder all men and women were not
alike affected towards him; and if she alone were so. truly I dare
pronounce her worthy of the love of a god, who was herself so great a
lover of virtue and goodness, and the bravest man.
Both Theseus and Romulus were by nature meant for governors; yet
neither lived up to the true character of a king, but fell off, and
ran, the one into popularity, the other into tyranny, falling both into
the same fault out of different passions. For a ruler's first end is to
maintain his office, which is done no less by avoiding what is unfit
than by observing what is suitable. Whoever is either too remiss or too
strict is no more a king or a governor, but either a demagogue or a
despot, and so becomes either odious or contemptible to his subjects.
Though certainly the one seems to be the fault of easiness and
good-nature, the other of pride and severity.
If men's calamities, again, are not to be wholly imputed to fortune,
but refer themselves to differences of character, who will acquit
either Theseus of rash and unreasonable anger against his son, or
Romulus against his brother? Looking at motives, we more easily excuse
the anger which a stronger cause, like a severer blow, provoked.
Romulus, having disagreed with his brother advisedly and deliberately
on public matters, one would think could not on a sudden have been put
into so great a passion; but love and jealousy and the complaints of
his wife, which few men can avoid being moved by, seduced Theseus to
commit that outrage upon his son. And what is more, Romulus, in his
anger, committed an action of unfortunate consequence; but that of
Theseus ended only in words, some evil speaking, and an old man's
curse; the rest of the youth's disasters seem to have proceeded from
fortune; so that, so far, a man would give his vote on Theseus's part.
But Romulus has, first of all, one great plea, that his performances
proceeded from very small beginnings; for both the brothers being
thought servants and the sons of swineherds, before becoming freemen
themselves, gave liberty to almost all the Latins, obtaining at once
all the most honorable titles, as destroyers of their country's
enemies, preservers of their friends and kindred, princes of the
people, founders of cities, not removers, like Theseus, who raised and
compiled only one house out of many, demolishing many cities bearing
the names of ancient kings and heroes. Romulus, indeed, did the same
afterwards, forcing his enemies to deface and ruin their own dwellings,
and to sojourn with their conquerors; but at first, not by removal, or
increase of an existing city, but by foundation of a new one, he
obtained himself lands, a country, a kingdom, wives, children, and
relations. And, in so doing, he killed or destroyed nobody, but
benefited those that wanted houses and homes and were willing to be of
a society and become citizens. Robbers and malefactors he slew not; but
he subdued nations, he overthrew cities, he triumphed over kings and
commanders. As to Remus, it is doubtful by whose hand he fell; it is
generally imputed to others. His mother he clearly retrieved from
death, and placed his grandfather who was brought under base and
dishonorable vassalage, on the ancient throne of Aeneas, to whom he did
voluntarily many good offices, but never did him harm even
inadvertently. But Theseus, in his forgetfulness and neglect of the
command concerning the flag, can scarcely, methinks, by any excuses, or
before the most indulgent judges, avoid the imputation of parricide.
And, indeed, one of the Attic writers, perceiving it to be very hard to
make an excuse for this, feigns that Aegeus, at the approach of the
ship, running hastily to the Acropolis to see what news, slipped and
fell down, as if he had no servants, or none would attend him on his
way to the shore.
And, indeed, the faults committed in the rapes of women admit of no
plausible excuse in Theseus. First, because of the often repetition of
the crime; for he stole Ariadne, Antiope, Anaxo the Troezenian, at last
Helen, when he was an old man, and she not marriageable; she a child,
and he at an age past even lawful wedlock. Then, on account of the
cause; for the Troezenian, Lacedaemonian, and Amazonian virgins, beside
that they were not betrothed to him, were not worthier to raise
children by than the Athenian women, derived from Erechtheus and
Cecrops; but it is to be suspected these things were done out of
wantonness and lust. Romulus, when he had taken near eight hundred
women, chose not all, but only Hersilia, as they say, for himself; the
rest he divided among the chief of the city; and afterwards, by the
respect and tenderness and justice shown towards them, he made it clear
that this violence and injury was a commendable and politic exploit to
establish a society; by which he intermixed and united both nations,
and made it the fountain of after friendship and public stability. And
to the reverence and love and constancy he established in matrimony,
time can witness; for in two hundred and thirty years, neither any
husband deserted his wife, nor any wife her husband; but, as the
curious among the Greeks can name the first case of parricide or
matricide, so the Romans all well know that Spurius Carvilius was the
first who put away his wife, accusing her of barrenness. The immediate
results were similar; for upon those marriages the two princes shared
in the dominion, and both nations fell under the same government. But
from the marriages of Theseus proceeded nothing of friendship or
correspondence for the advantage of commerce, but enmities and wars and
the slaughter of citizens, and, at last, the loss of the city Aphidnae,
when only out of the compassion of the enemy, whom they entreated and
caressed like gods, they escaped suffering what Troy did by Paris.
Theseus's mother, however, was not only in danger, but suffered
actually what Hecuba did, deserted and neglected by her son, unless her
captivity be not a fiction, as I could wish both that and other things
were. The circumstances of the divine intervention, said to have
preceded or accompanied their births, are also in contrast; for Romulus
was preserved by the special favor of the gods; but the oracle given to
Aegeus, commanding him to abstain, seems to demonstrate that the birth
of Theseus was not agreeable to the will of the gods.
LYCURGUS
There is so much uncertainty in the accounts which historians have left
us of Lycurgus, the lawgiver of Sparta, that scarcely anything is
asserted by one of them which is not called into question or
contradicted by the rest. Their sentiments are quite different as to
the family he came of, the voyages he undertook, the place and manner
of his death, but most of all when they speak of the laws he made and
the commonwealth which he founded. They cannot, by any means, be
brought to an agreement as to the very age in which he lived; for some
of them say that he flourished in the time of Iphitus, and that they
two jointly contrived the ordinance for the cessation of arms during
the solemnity of the Olympic games. Of this opinion was Aristotle; and
for confirmation of it, he alleges an inscription upon one of the
copper quoits used in those sports, upon which the name of Lycurgus
continued uneffaced to his time. But Eratosthenes and Apollodorus and
other chronologers, computing the time by the successions of the
Spartan kings, pretend to demonstrate that he was much more ancient
than the institution of the Olympic games. Timaeus conjectures that
there were two of this name, and in diverse times, but that the one of
them being much more famous than the other, men gave to him the glory
of the exploits of both; the elder of the two, according to him, was
not long after Homer; and some are so particular as to say that he had
seen him. But that he was of great antiquity may be gathered from a
passage in Xenophon, where he makes him contemporary with the
Heraclidae. By descent, indeed, the very last kings of Sparta were
Heraclidae too; but he seems in that place to speak of the first and
more immediate successors of Hercules. But notwithstanding this
confusion and obscurity, we shall endeavor to compose the history of
his life, adhering to those statements which are least contradicted,
and depending upon those authors who are most worthy of credit.
The poet Simonides will have it that Lycurgus was the son of Prytanis,
and not of Eunomus; but in this opinion he is singular, for all the
rest deduce the genealogy of them both as follows:--
Aristodemus
Patrocles
Sous
Eurypon
Eunomus
------------------------------------------
Polydectes by his first
wife
Lycurgus by Dionassa his second.
Dieuchidas says he was the sixth from Patrocles and the eleventh from
Hercules. Be this as it will, Sous certainly was the most renowned of
all his ancestors, under whose conduct the Spartans made slaves of the
Helots, and added to their dominions, by conquest, a good part of
Arcadia, There goes a story of this king Sous, that, being besieged by
the Clitorians in a dry and stony place so that he could come at no
water, he was at last constrained to agree with them upon these terms,
that he would restore to them all his conquests, provided that himself
and all his men should drink of the nearest spring. After the usual
oaths and ratifications, he called his soldiers together, and offered
to him that would forbear drinking, his kingdom for a reward; and when
not a man of them was able to forbear, in short, when they had all
drunk their fill, at last comes king Sous himself to the spring, and,
having sprinkled his face only, without swallowing one drop, marches
off in the face of his enemies, refusing to yield up his conquests,
because himself and all his men had not, according to the articles,
drunk of their water.
Although he was justly had in admiration on this account, yet his
family was not surnamed from him, but from his son Eurypon (of whom
they were called Eurypontids); the reason of which was that Eurypon
relaxed the rigor of the monarchy, seeking favor and popularity with
the many. They, after this first step, grew bolder; and the succeeding
kings partly incurred hatred with their people by trying to use force,
or, for popularity's sake and through weakness, gave way; and anarchy
and confusion long prevailed in Sparta, causing, moreover, the death of
the father of Lycurgus. For as he was endeavoring to quell a riot, he
was stabbed with a butcher's knife, and left the title of king to his
eldest son Polydectes.
He, too, dying soon after, the right of succession (as every one
thought) rested in Lycurgus; and reign he did, until it was found that
the queen, his sister-in-law, was with child; upon which he immediately
declared that the kingdom belonged to her issue, provided it were male,
and that he himself exercised the regal jurisdiction only as his
guardian; the Spartan name for which office is prodicus. Soon after, an
overture was made to him by the queen, that she would herself in some
way destroy the infant, upon condition that he would marry her when he
came to the crown. Abhorring the woman's wickedness, he nevertheless
did not reject her proposal, but, making show of closing with her,
dispatched the messenger with thanks and expressions of joy, but
dissuaded her earnestly from procuring herself to miscarry, which would
impair her health, if not endanger her life; he himself, he said, would
see to it, that the child, as soon as born, should be taken out of the
way. By such artifices having drawn on the woman to the time of her
lying-in, as soon as he heard that she was in labor, he sent persons to
be by and observe all that passed, with orders that if it were a girl
they should deliver it to the women, but if a boy, should bring it to
him wheresoever he were, and whatsoever doing. It so fell out that when
he was at supper with the principal magistrates the queen was brought
to bed of a boy, who was soon after presented to him as he was at the
table; he, taking him into his arms, said to those about him, "Men of
Sparta, here is a king born unto us;" this said, he laid him down in
the king's place, and named him Charilaus, that is, the joy of the
people; because that all were transported with joy and with wonder at
his noble and just spirit. His reign had lasted only eight months, but
he was honored on other accounts by the citizens, and there were more
who obeyed him because of his eminent virtues, than because he was
regent to the king and had the royal power in his hands. Some, however,
envied and sought to impede his growing influence while he was still
young; chiefly the kindred and friends of the queen mother, who
pretended to have been dealt with injuriously. Her brother Leonidas, in
a warm debate which fell out betwixt him and Lycurgus, went so far as
to tell him to his face that he was well assured that ere long he
should see him king; suggesting suspicions and preparing the way for an
accusation of him, as though he had made away with his nephew, if the
child should chance to fail though by a natural death. Words of the
like import were designedly cast abroad by the queen-mother and her
adherents.
Troubled at this, and not knowing what it might come to, he thought it
his wisest course to avoid their envy by a voluntary exile, and to
travel from place to place until his nephew came to marriageable years,
and, by having a son, had secured the succession; setting sail,
therefore, with this resolution, he first arrived at Crete, where,
having considered their several forms of government, and got an
acquaintance with the principal men amongst them, some of their laws he
very much approved of, and resolved to make use of them in his own
country; a good part he rejected as useless. Amongst the persons there
the most renowned for their learning all their wisdom in state matters
was one Thales, whom Lycurgus, by importunities and assurances of
friendship, persuaded to go over to Lacedaemon; where, though by his
outward appearance and his own profession he seemed to be no other than
a lyric poet, in reality he performed the part of one of the ablest
lawgivers in the world. The very songs which he composed were
exhortations to obedience and concord, and the very measure and cadence
of the verse, conveying impressions of order and tranquility, had so
great an influence on the minds of the listeners, that they were
insensibly softened and civilized, insomuch that they renounced their
private feuds and animosities, and were reunited in a common admiration
of virtue. So that it may truly be said that Thales prepared the way
for the discipline introduced by Lycurgus.
From Crete he sailed to Asia, with design, as is said, to examine the
difference betwixt the manners and rules of life of the Cretans, which
were very sober and temperate, and those of the Ionians, a people of
sumptuous and delicate habits, and so to form a judgment; just as
physicians do by comparing healthy and diseased bodies. Here he had the
first sight of Homer's works, in the hands, we may suppose, of the
posterity of Creophylus; and, having observed that the few loose
expressions and actions of ill example which are to be found in his
poems were much outweighed by serious lessons of state and rules of
morality, he set himself eagerly to transcribe and digest them into
order, as thinking they would be of good use in his own country. They
had, indeed, already obtained some slight repute amongst the Greeks,
and scattered portions, as chance conveyed them, were in the hands of
individuals; but Lycurgus first made them really known.
The Egyptians say that he took a voyage into Egypt, and that, being
much taken with their way of separating the soldiery from the rest of
the nation, he transferred it from them to Sparta, a removal from
contact with those employed in low and mechanical occupations giving
high refinement and beauty to the state. Some Greek writers also record
this. But as for his voyages into Spain, Africa, and the Indies, and
his conferences there with the Gymnosophists, the whole relation, as
far as I can find, rests on the single credit of the Spartan
Aristocrates, the son of Hipparchus.
Lycurgus was much missed at Sparta, and often sent for, "for kings
indeed we have," they said, "who wear the marks and assume the titles
of royalty, but as for the qualities of their minds, they have nothing
by which they are to be distinguished from their subjects;" adding,
that in him alone was the true foundation of sovereignty to be seen, a
nature made to rule, and a genius to gain obedience. Nor were the kings
themselves averse to see him back, for they looked upon his presence as
a bulwark against the insolencies of the people.
Things being in this posture at his return, he applied himself, without
loss of time, to a thorough reformation and resolved to change the
whole face of the commonwealth; for what could a few particular laws
and a partial alteration avail? He must act as wise physicians do, in
the case of one who labors under a complication of diseases, by force
of medicines reduce and exhaust him, change his whole temperament, and
then set him upon a totally new regimen of diet. Having thus projected
things, away he goes to Delphi to consult Apollo there; which having
done, and offered his sacrifice, he returned with that renowned oracle,
in which he is called beloved of God, and rather God than man; that his
prayers were heard, that his laws should be the best, and the
commonwealth which observed them the most famous in the world.
Encouraged by these things, he set himself to bring over to his side
the leading men of Sparta, exhorting them to give him a helping hand in
his great undertaking; he broke it first to his particular friends, and
then by degrees gained others, and animated them all to put his design
in execution. When things were ripe for action, he gave order to thirty
of the principal men of Sparta to be ready armed at the market-place by
break of day, to the end that he might strike a terror into the
opposite party. Hermippus hath set down the names of twenty of the most
eminent of them; but the name of him whom Lycurgus most confided in,
and who was of most use to him, both in making his laws and putting
them in execution, was Arthmiadas. Things growing to a tumult, king
Charilaus, apprehending that it was a conspiracy against his person,
took sanctuary in the temple of Minerva of the Brazen House; but, being
soon after undeceived, and having taken an oath of them that they had
no designs against him, he quitted his refuge, and himself also entered
into the confederacy with them; of so gentle and flexible a disposition
he was, to which Archelaus, his brother-king, alluded, when, hearing
him extolled for his goodness, he said, "Who can say he is anything but
good? he is so even to the bad."
Amongst the many changes and alterations which Lycurgus made, the first
and of greatest importance was the establishment of the senate, which,
having a power equal to the kings' in matters of great consequence,
and, as Plato expresses it, allaying and qualifying the fiery genius of
the royal office, gave steadiness and safety to the commonwealth. For
the state, which before had no firm basis to stand upon, but leaned one
while towards an absolute monarchy, when the kings had the upper hand,
and another while towards a pure democracy, when the people had the
better, found in this establishment of the senate a central weight,
like ballast in a ship, which always kept things in a just equilibrium;
the twenty-eight always adhering to the kings so far as to resist
democracy, and, on the other hand, supporting the people against the
establishment of absolute monarchy. As for the determinate number of
twenty-eight, Aristotle states, that it so fell out because two of the
original associates, for want of courage, fell off from the enterprise;
but Sphaerus assures us that there were but twenty-eight of the
confederates at first; perhaps there is some mystery in the number,
which consists of seven multiplied by four, and is the first of perfect
numbers after six, being, as that is, equal to all its parts. For my
part, I believe Lycurgus fixed upon the number of twenty-eight, that,
the two kings being reckoned amongst them, they might be thirty in all.
So eagerly set was he upon this establishment, that he took the trouble
to obtain an oracle about it from Delphi, the Rhetra, which runs thus:
"After that you have built a temple to Jupiter Hellanius, and to
Minerva Hellania, and after that you have phyle'd the people phyles,
and obe'd them into obes, you shall establish a council of thirty
elders, the leaders included, and shall, from time to time, apellazein
the people betwixt Babyca and Cnacion, there propound and put to the
vote. The commons have the final voice and decision. " By phyles and
obes are meant the divisions of the people; by the leaders, the two
kings; apellazein, referring to the Pythian Apollo, signifies to
assemble; Babyca and Cnacion they now call Oenus; Aristotle says
Cnacion is a river, and Babyca a bridge. Betwixt this Babyca and
Cnacion, their assemblies were held, for they had no council-house or
building, to meet in. Lycurgus was of opinion that ornaments were so
far from advantaging them in their counsels, that they were rather an
hindrance, by diverting their attention from the business before them
to statues and pictures, and roofs curiously fretted, the usual
embellishments of such places amongst the other Greeks. The people then
being thus assembled in the open air, it was not allowed to any one of
their order to give his advice, but only either to ratify or reject
what should be propounded to them by the king or senate. But because it
fell out afterwards that the people, by adding or omitting words,
distorted and perverted the sense of propositions, kings Polydorus and
Theopompus inserted into the Rhetra, or grand covenant, the following
clause: "That if the people decide crookedly, it should be lawful for
the elders and leaders to dissolve;" that is to say, refuse
ratification, and dismiss the people as depravers and perverters of
their counsel. It passed among the people, by their management, as
being equally authentic with the rest of the Rhetra, as appears by
these verses of Tyrtaeus,--
These oracles they from Apollo heard,
And brought from Pytho home the perfect word:
The heaven-appointed kings, who love the land,
Shall foremost in the nation's council stand;
The elders next to them; the commons last;
Let a straight Rhetra among all be passed.
Although Lycurgus had, in this manner, used all the qualifications
possible in the constitution of his commonwealth, yet those who
succeeded him found the oligarchical element still too strong and
dominant, and, to check its high temper and its violence, put, as Plato
says, a bit in its mouth, which was the power of the ephori,
established one hundred and thirty years after the death of Lycurgus.
Elatus and his colleagues were the first who had this dignity conferred
upon them, in the reign of king Theopompus, who, when his queen
upbraided him one day that he would leave the regal power to his
children less than he had received it from his ancestors, said, in
answer, "No, greater; for it will last longer." For, indeed, their
prerogative being thus reduced within reasonable bounds, the Spartan
kings were at once freed from all further jealousies and consequent
danger, and never experienced the calamities of their neighbors at
Messene and Argos, who, by maintaining their prerogative too strictly,
for want of yielding a little to the populace, lost it all.
Indeed, whosoever shall look at the sedition and misgovernment which
befell these bordering nations to whom they were as near related in
blood as situation, will find in them the best reason to admire the
wisdom and foresight of Lycurgus. For these three states, in their
first rise, were equal, or, if there were any odds, they lay on the
side of the Messenians and Argives, who, in the first allotment, were
thought to have been luckier than the Spartans; yet was their happiness
but of small continuance, partly the tyrannical temper of their kings
and partly the ungovernableness of the people quickly bringing upon
them such disorders, and so complete an overthrow of all existing
institutions, as clearly to show how truly divine a blessing the
Spartans had had in that wise lawgiver who gave their government its
happy balance and temper. But of this I shall say more in its due place.
After the creation of the thirty senators, his next task, and, indeed,
the most hazardous he ever undertook, was the making a new division of
their lands. For there was an extreme inequality amongst them, and
their state was overloaded with a multitude of indigent and necessitous
persons, while its whole wealth had centered upon a very few. To the
end, therefore, that he might expel from the state arrogance and envy,
luxury and crime, and those yet more inveterate diseases of want and
superfluity, he obtained of them to renounce their properties, and to
consent to a new division of the land, and that they should live all
together on an equal footing; merit to be their only road to eminence,
and the disgrace of evil, and credit of worthy acts, their one measure
of difference between man and man.
Upon their consent to these proposals, proceeding at once to put them
into execution, he divided the country of Laconia in general into
thirty thousand equal shares, and the part attached to the city of
Sparta into nine thousand; these he distributed among the Spartans, as
he did the others to the country citizens. Some authors say that he
made but six thousand lots for the citizens of Sparta, and that king
Polydorus added three thousand more. Others say that Polydorus doubled
the number Lycurgus had made, which, according to them, was but four
thousand five hundred. A lot was so much as to yield, one year with
another, about seventy bushels of grain for the master of the family,
and twelve for his wife, with a suitable proportion of oil and wine.
And this he thought sufficient to keep their bodies in good health and
strength; superfluities they were better without. It is reported, that,
as he returned from a journey shortly after the division of the lands,
in harvest time, the ground being newly reaped, seeing the stacks all
standing equal and alike, he smiled, and said to those about him,
"Methinks all Laconia looks like one family estate just divided among a
number of brothers."
Not contented with this, he resolved to make a division of their
movables too, that there might be no odious distinction or inequality
left amongst them; but finding that it would be very dangerous to go
about it openly, he took another course, and defeated their avarice by
the following stratagem: he commanded that all gold and silver coin
should be called in, and that only a sort of money made of iron should
be current, a great weight and quantity of which was but very little
worth; so that to lay up twenty or thirty pounds there was required a
pretty large closet, and, to remove it, nothing less than a yoke of
oxen. With the diffusion of this money, at once a number of vices were
banished from Lacedaemon; for who would rob another of such a coin? Who
would unjustly detain or take by force, or accept as a bribe, a thing
which it was not easy to hide, nor a credit to have, nor indeed of any
use to cut in pieces? For when it was just red hot, they quenched it in
vinegar, and by that means spoilt it, and made it almost incapable of
being worked.
In the next place, he declared an outlawry of all needless and
superfluous arts; but here he might almost have spared his
proclamation; for they of themselves would have gone after the gold and
silver, the money which remained being not so proper payment for
curious work; for, being of iron, it was scarcely portable, neither, if
they should take the pains to export it, would it pass amongst the
other Greeks, who ridiculed it. So there was now no more means of
purchasing foreign goods and small wares; merchants sent no shiploads
into Laconian ports; no rhetoric-master, no itinerant fortune-teller,
no harlot-monger or gold or silversmith, engraver, or jeweler, set foot
in a country which had no money; so that luxury, deprived little by
little of that which fed and fomented it, wasted to nothing, and died
away of itself. For the rich had no advantage here over the poor, as
their wealth and abundance had no road to come abroad by, but were shut
up at home doing nothing. And in this way they became excellent artists
in common, necessary things; bedsteads, chairs, and tables, and such
like staple utensils in a family, were admirably well made there; their
cup, particularly, was very much in fashion, and eagerly bought up by
soldiers, as Critias reports; for its color was such as to prevent
water, drunk upon necessity and disagreeable to look at, from being
noticed; and the shape of it was such that the mud stuck to the sides,
so that only the purer part came to the drinker's mouth. For this,
also, they had to thank their lawgiver, who, by relieving the artisans
of the trouble of making useless things, set them to show their skill
in giving beauty to those of daily and indispensable use.
The third and most masterly stroke of this great lawgiver, by which he
struck a yet more effectual blow against luxury and the desire of
riches, was the ordinance he made, that they should all eat in common,
of the same bread and same meat, and of kinds that were specified, and
should not spend their lives at home, laid on costly couches at
splendid tables, delivering themselves up into the hands of their
tradesmen and cooks, to fatten them in corners, like greedy brutes, and
to ruin not their minds only but their very bodies, which, enfeebled by
indulgence and excess, would stand in need of long sleep, warm bathing,
freedom from work, and, in a word, of as much care and attendance as if
they were continually sick. It was certainly an extraordinary thing to
have brought about such a result as this, but a greater yet to have
taken away from wealth, as Theophrastus observes, not merely the
property of being coveted, but its very nature of being wealth. For the
rich, being obliged to go to the same table with the poor, could not
make use of or enjoy their abundance, nor so much as please their
vanity by looking at or displaying it. So that the common proverb, that
Plutus, the god of riches, is blind, was nowhere in all the world
literally verified but in Sparta. There, indeed, he was not only blind,
but like a picture, without either life or motion. Nor were they
allowed to take food at home first, and then attend the public tables,
for every one had an eye upon those who did not eat and drink like the
rest, and reproached them with being dainty and effeminate.
This last ordinance in particular exasperated the wealthier men. They
collected in a body against Lycurgus, and from ill words came to
throwing stones, so that at length he was forced to run out of the
marketplace, and make to sanctuary to save his life; by good-hap he
outran all excepting one Alcander, a young man otherwise not ill
accomplished, but hasty and violent, who came up so close to him, that,
when he turned to see who was near him, he struck him upon the face
with his stick, and put out one of his eyes. Lycurgus, so far from
being daunted and discouraged by this accident, stopped short, and
showed his disfigured face and eye beat out to his countrymen; they,
dismayed and ashamed at the sight, delivered Alcander into his hands to
be punished, and escorted him home, with expressions of great concern
for his ill usage. Lycurgus, having thanked them for their care of his
person, dismissed them all, excepting only Alcander; and, taking him
with him into his house, neither did nor said anything severely to him,
but, dismissing those whose place it was bade Alcander to wait upon him
at table. The young man who was of an ingenuous temper, without
murmuring did as he was commanded; and, being thus admitted to live
with Lycurgus, he had an opportunity to observe in him, besides his
gentleness and calmness of temper, an extraordinary sobriety and an
indefatigable industry, and so, from an enemy, became one of his most
zealous admirers, and told his friends and relations that Lycurgus was
not that morose and ill-natured man they had formerly taken him for,
but the one mild and gentle character of the world. And thus did
Lycurgus, for chastisement of his fault, make of a wild and passionate
young man one of the discreetest citizens of Sparta.
In memory of this accident, Lycurgus built a temple to Minerva,
surnamed Optiletis; optilus being the Doric of these parts for
ophthalmus, the eye. Some authors, however, of whom Dioscorides is one
(who wrote a treatise on the commonwealth of Sparta), say that he was
wounded indeed, but did not lose his eye with the blow; and that he
built the temple in gratitude for the cure. Be this as it will, certain
it is, that, after this misadventure, the Lacedaemonians made it a rule
never to carry so much as a staff into their public assemblies.
But to return to their public repasts;--these had several names in
Greek; the Cretans called them andria, because the men only came to
them. The Lacedaemonians called them phiditia, that is, by changing l
into d, the same as philitia, love feasts, because that, by eating and
drinking together, they had opportunity of making friends. Or perhaps
from phido, parsimony, because they were so many schools of sobriety;
or perhaps the first letter is an addition, and the word at first was
editia, from edode, eating. They met by companies of fifteen, more or
less, and each of them stood bound to bring in monthly a bushel of
meal, eight gallons of wine, five pounds of cheese, two pounds and a
half of figs, and some very small sum of money to buy flesh or fish
with. Besides this, when any of them made sacrifice to the gods, they
always sent a dole to the common hall; and, likewise, when any of them
had been a hunting, he sent thither a part of the venison he had
killed; for these two occasions were the only excuses allowed for
supping at home. The custom of eating together was observed strictly
for a great while afterwards; insomuch that king Agis himself, after
having vanquished the Athenians, sending for his commons at his return
home, because he desired to eat privately with his queen, was refused
them by the polemarchs; which refusal when he resented so much as to
omit next day the sacrifice due for a war happily ended, they made him
pay a fine.
They used to send their children to these tables as to schools of
temperance; here they were instructed in state affairs by listening to
experienced statesmen; here they learnt to converse with pleasantry, to
make jests without scurrility, and take them without ill humor. In this
point of good breeding, the Lacedaemonians excelled particularly, but
if any man were uneasy under it, upon the least hint given there was no
more to be said to him. It was customary also for the eldest man in the
company to say to each of them, as they came in, "Through this"
(pointing to the door), "no words go out." When any one had a desire to
be admitted into any of these little societies; he was to go through
the following probation, each man in the company took a little ball of
soft bread, which they were to throw into a deep basin, which a waiter
carried round upon his head; those that liked the person to be chosen
dropped their ball into the basin without altering its figure, and
those who disliked him pressed it between their fingers, and made it
flat; and this signified as much as a negative voice. And if there were
but one of these pieces in the basin, the suitor was rejected, so
desirous were they that all the members of the company should be
agreeable to each other. The basin was called caddichus, and the
rejected candidate had a name thence derived. Their most famous dish
was the black broth, which was so much valued that the elderly men fed
only upon that, leaving what flesh there was to the younger.
They say that a certain king of Pontus, having heard much of this black
broth of theirs, sent for a Lacedaemonian cook on purpose to make him
some, but had no sooner tasted it than he found it extremely bad, which
the cook observing, told him, "Sir, to make this broth relish, you
should have bathed yourself first in the river Eurotas."
After drinking moderately, every man went to his home without lights,
for the use of them was, on all occasions, forbid, to the end that they
might accustom themselves to march boldly in the dark. Such was the
common fashion of their meals.
Lycurgus would never reduce his laws into writing; nay, there is a
Rhetra expressly to forbid it. For he thought that the most material
points, and such as most directly tended to the public welfare, being
imprinted on the hearts of their youth by a good discipline, would be
sure to remain, and would find a stronger security, than any compulsion
would be, in the principles of action formed in them by their best
lawgiver, education. And as for things of lesser importance, as
pecuniary contracts, and such like, the forms of which have to be
changed as occasion requires, he thought it the best way to prescribe
no positive rule or inviolable usage in such cases, willing that their
manner and form should be altered according to the circumstances of
time, and determinations of men of sound judgment. Every end and object
of law and enactment it was his design education should effect.
One, then, of the Rhetras was, that their laws should not be written;
another is particularly leveled against luxury and expensiveness, for
by it it was ordained that the ceilings of their houses should only be
wrought by the axe, and their gates and doors smoothed only by the saw.
Epaminondas's famous dictum about his own table, that "Treason and a
dinner like this do not keep company together," may be said to have
been anticipated by Lycurgus. Luxury and a house of this kind could not
well be companions. For a man must have a less than ordinary share of
sense that would furnish such plain and common rooms with silver-footed
couches and purple coverlets and gold and silver plate. Doubtless he
had good reason to think that they would proportion their beds to their
houses, and their coverlets to their beds, and the rest of their goods
and furniture to these. It is reported that king Leotychides, the first
of that name, was so little used to the sight of any other kind of
work, that, being entertained at Corinth in a stately room, he was much
surprised to see the timber and ceiling so finely carved and paneled,
and asked his host whether the trees grew so in his country.
A third ordinance or Rhetra was, that they should not make war often,
or long, with the same enemy, lest that they should train and instruct
them in war, by habituating them to defend themselves. And this is what
Agesilaus was much blamed for, a long time after; it being thought,
that, by his continual incursions into Boeotia, he made the Thebans a
match for the Lacedaemonians; and therefore Antalcidas, seeing him
wounded one day, said to him, that he was very well paid for taking
such pains to make the Thebans good soldiers, whether they would or no.
These laws were called the Rhetras, to intimate that they were divine
sanctions and revelations.
In order to the good education of their youth (which, as I said before,
he thought the most important and noblest work of a lawgiver), he went
so far back as to take into consideration their very conception and
birth, by regulating their marriages. For Aristotle is wrong in saying,
that, after he had tried all ways to reduce the women to more modesty
and sobriety, he was at last forced to leave them as they were, because
that, in the absence of their husbands, who spent the best part of
their lives in the wars, their wives, whom they were obliged to leave
absolute mistresses at home, took great liberties and assumed the
superiority; and were treated with overmuch respect and called by the
title of lady or queen. The truth is, he took in their case, also, all
the care that was possible; he ordered the maidens to exercise
themselves with wrestling, running, throwing the quoit, and casting the
dart, to the end that the fruit they conceived might, in strong and
healthy bodies, take firmer root and find better growth, and withal
that they, with this greater vigor, might be the more able to undergo
the pains of child- bearing. And to the end he might take away their
over-great tenderness and fear of exposure to the air, and all acquired
womanishness, he ordered that the young women should go naked in the
processions, as well as the young men, and dance, too, in that
condition, at certain solemn feasts, singing certain songs, whilst the
young men stood around, seeing and hearing them. On these occasions,
they now and then made, by jests, a befitting reflection upon those who
had misbehaved themselves in the wars; and again sang encomiums upon
those who had done any gallant action, and by these means inspired the
younger sort with an emulation of their glory. Those that were thus
commended went away proud, elated, and gratified with their honor among
the maidens; and those who were rallied were as sensibly touched with
it as if they had been formally reprimanded; and so much the more,
because the kings and the elders, as well as the rest of the city, saw
and heard all that passed. Nor was there any thing shameful in this
nakedness of the young women; modesty attended them, and all wantonness
was excluded. It taught them simplicity and a care for good health, and
gave them some taste of higher feelings, admitted as they thus were to
the field of noble action and glory. Hence it was natural for them to
think and speak as Gorgo, for example, the wife of Leonidas, is said to
have done, when some foreign lady, as it would seem, told her that the
women of Lacedaemon were the only women of the world who could rule
men; "With good reason," she said, "for we are the only women who bring
forth men."
These public processions of the maidens, and their appearing naked in
their exercises and dancings, were incitements to marriage, operating
upon the young with the rigor and certainty, as Plato says, of love, if
not of mathematics. But besides all this, to promote it yet more
effectually, those who continued bachelors were in a degree
disfranchised by law; for they were excluded from the sight of those
public processions in which the young men and maidens danced naked,
and, in wintertime, the officers compelled them to march naked
themselves round the market-place, singing as they went a certain song
to their own disgrace, that they justly suffered this punishment for
disobeying the laws. Moreover, they were denied that respect and
observance which the younger men paid their elders; and no man, for
example, found fault with what was said to Dercyllidas, though so
eminent a commander; upon whose approach one day, a young man, instead
of rising, retained his seat, remarking, "No child of yours will make
room for me. "
In their marriages, the husband carried off his bride by a sort of
force; nor were their brides ever small and of tender years, but in
their full bloom and ripeness. After this, she who superintended the
wedding comes and clips the hair of the bride close round her head,
dresses her up in man's clothes, and leaves her upon a mattress in the
dark; afterwards comes the bridegroom, in his every-day clothes, sober
and composed, as having supped at the common table, and, entering
privately into the room where the bride lies, unties her virgin zone,
and takes her to himself; and, after staying some time together, he
returns composedly to his own apartment, to sleep as usual with the
other young men. And so he continues to do, spending his days, and,
indeed, his nights with them, visiting his bride in fear and shame, and
with circumspection, when he thought he should not be observed; she,
also, on her part, using her wit to help and find favorable
opportunities for their meeting, when company was out of the way. In
this manner they lived a long time, insomuch that they sometimes had
children by their wives before ever they saw their faces by daylight.
Their interviews, being thus difficult and rare, served not only for
continual exercise of their self-control, but brought them together
with their bodies healthy and vigorous, and their affections fresh and
lively, unsated and undulled by easy access and long continuance with
each other; while their partings were always early enough to leave
behind unextinguished in each of them some remainder fire of longing
and mutual delight. After guarding marriage with this modesty and
reserve, he was equally careful to banish empty and womanish jealousy.
For this object, excluding all licentious disorders, he made it,
nevertheless, honorable for men to give the use of their wives to those
whom they should think fit, that so they might have children by them;
ridiculing those in whose opinion such favors are so unfit for
participation as to fight and shed blood and go to war about it.
Lycurgus allowed a man who was advanced in years and had a young wife
to recommend some virtuous and approved young man, that she might have
a child by him, who might inherit the good qualities of the father, and
be a son to himself. On the other side, an honest man who had love for
a married woman upon account of her modesty and the wellfavoredness of
her children, might, without formality, beg her company of her husband,
that he might raise, as it were, from this plot of good ground, worthy
and well-allied children for himself. And, indeed, Lycurgus was of a
persuasion that children were not so much the property of their parents
as of the whole commonwealth, and, therefore, would not have his
citizens begot by the first comers, but by the best men that could be
found; the laws of other nations seemed to him very absurd and
inconsistent, where people would be so solicitous for their dogs and
horses as to exert interest and pay money to procure fine breeding, and
yet kept their wives shut up, to be made mothers only by themselves,
who might be foolish, infirm, or diseased; as if it were not apparent
that children of a bad breed would prove their bad qualities first upon
those who kept and were rearing them, and well-born children, in like
manner, their good qualities. These regulations, founded on natural and
social grounds, were certainly so far from that scandalous liberty
which was afterwards charged upon their women, that they knew not what
adultery meant. It is told, for instance, of Geradas, a very ancient,
Spartan, that, being asked by a stranger what punishment their law had
appointed for adulterers, he answered, "There are no adulterers in our
country." "But," replied the stranger, "suppose there were ?" "Then,"
answered he, "the offender would have to give the plaintiff a bull with
a neck so long as that he might drink from the top of Taygetus of the
Eurotas river below it." The man, surprised at this, said, "Why, 'tis
impossible to find such a bull." Geradas smilingly replied, "'Tis as
possible as to find an adulterer in Sparta." So much I had to say of
their marriages.
Nor was it in the power of the father to dispose of the child as he
thought fit; he was obliged to carry it before certain triers at a
place called Lesche; these were some of the elders of the tribe to
which the child belonged; their business it was carefully to view the
infant, and, if they found it stout and well made, they gave order for
its rearing, and allotted to it one of the nine thousand shares of land
above mentioned for its maintenance, but, if they found it puny and
ill- shaped, ordered it to be taken to what was called the Apothetae, a
sort of chasm under Taygetus; as thinking it neither for the good of
the child itself, nor for the public interest, that it should be
brought up, if it did not, from the very outset, appear made to be
healthy and vigorous. Upon the same account, the women did not bathe
the new-born children with water, as is the custom in all other
countries, but with wine, to prove the temper and complexion of their
bodies; from a notion they had that epileptic and weakly children faint
and waste away upon their being thus bathed, while, on the contrary,
those of a strong and vigorous habit acquire firmness and get a temper
by it, like steel. There was much care and art, too, used by the
nurses; they had no swaddling bands; the children grew up free and
unconstrained in limb and form, and not dainty and fanciful about their
food; not afraid in the dark, or of being left alone; without any
peevishness or ill humor or crying. Upon this account, Spartan nurses
were often bought up, or hired by people of other countries; and it is
recorded that she who suckled Alcibiades was a Spartan; who, however,
if fortunate in his nurse, was not so in his preceptor; his guardian,
Pericles, as Plato tells us, chose a servant for that office called
Zopyrus, no better than any common slave.
Lycurgus was of another mind; he would not have masters bought out of
the market for his young Spartans, nor such as should sell their pains;
nor was it lawful, indeed, for the father himself to breed up the
children after his own fancy; but as soon as they were seven years old
they were to be enrolled in certain companies and classes, where they
all lived under the same order and discipline, doing their exercises
and taking their play together. Of these, he who showed the most
conduct and courage was made captain; they had their eyes always upon
him, obeyed his orders, and underwent patiently whatsoever punishment
he inflicted; so that the whole course of their education was one
continued exercise of a ready and perfect obedience. The old men, too,
were spectators of their performances, and often raised quarrels and
disputes among them, to have a good opportunity of finding out their
different characters, and of seeing which would be valiant, which a
coward, when they should come to more dangerous encounters. Reading and
writing they gave them, just enough to serve their turn; their chief
care was to make them good subjects, and to teach them to endure pain
and conquer in battle. To this end, as they grew in years, their
discipline was proportionably increased; their heads were
close-clipped, they were accustomed to go bare-foot, and for the most
part to play naked.
After they were twelve years old, they were no longer allowed to wear
any under-garment; they had one coat to serve them a year; their bodies
were hard and dry, with but little acquaintance of baths and unguents;
these human indulgences they were allowed only on some few particular
days in the year. They lodged together in little bands upon beds made
of the rushes which grew by the banks of the river Eurotas, which they
were to break off with their hands without a knife; if it were winter,
they mingled some thistle-down with their rushes, which it was thought
had the property of giving warmth. By the time they were come to this
age, there was not any of the more hopeful boys who had not a lover to
bear him company. The old men, too, had an eye upon them, coming often
to the grounds to hear and see them contend either in wit or strength
with one another, and this as seriously and with as much concern as if
they were their fathers, their tutors, or their magistrates; so that
there scarcely was any time or place without someone present to put
them in mind of their duty, and punish them if they had neglected it.
Besides all this, there was always one of the best and honestest men in
the city appointed to undertake the charge and governance of them; he
again arranged them into their several bands, and set over each of them
for their captain the most temperate and boldest of those they called
Irens, who were usually twenty years old, two years out of the boys;
and the eldest of the boys, again, were Mell-Irens, as much as to say,
who would shortly be men. This young man, therefore, was their captain
when they fought, and their master at home, using them for the offices
of his house; sending the oldest of them to fetch wood, and the weaker
and less able, to gather salads and herbs, and these they must either
go without or steal; which they did by creeping into the gardens, or
conveying themselves cunningly and closely into the eating-houses; if
they were taken in the fact, they were whipped without mercy, for
thieving so ill and awkwardly. They stole, too, all other meat they
could lay their hands on, looking out and watching all opportunities,
when people were asleep or more careless than usual. If they were
caught, they were not only punished with whipping, but hunger, too,
being reduced to their ordinary allowance, which was but very slender,
and so contrived on purpose, that they might set about to help
themselves, and be forced to exercise their energy and address. This
was the principal design of their hard fare; there was another not
inconsiderable, that they might grow taller; for the vital spirits, not
being overburdened and oppressed by too great a quantity of
nourishment; which necessarily discharges itself into thickness and
breadth, do, by their natural lightness, rise; and the body, giving and
yielding because it is pliant, grows in height. The same thing seems,
also, to conduce to beauty of shape; a dry and lean habit is a better
subject for nature's configuration, which the gross and over-fed are
too heavy to submit to properly. Just as we find that women who take
physic whilst they are with child, bear leaner and smaller but
better-shaped and prettier children; the material they come of having
been more pliable and easily molded. The reason, however, I leave
others to determine.
To return from whence we have digressed. So seriously did the
Lacedaemonian children go about their stealing, that a youth, having
stolen a young fox and hid it under his coat, suffered it to tear out
his very bowels with its teeth and claws, and died upon the place,
rather than let it be seen. What is practiced to this very day in
Lacedaemon is enough to gain credit to this story, for I myself have
seen several of the youths endure whipping to death at the foot of the
altar of Diana surnamed Orthia.
The Iren, or under-master, used to stay a little with them after
supper, and one of them he bade to sing a song, to another he put a
question which required an advised and deliberate answer; for example,
Who was the best man in the city? What he thought of such an action of
such a man? They used them thus early to pass a right judgment upon
persons and things, and to inform themselves of the abilities or
defects of their countrymen. If they had not an answer ready to the
question Who was a good or who an ill-reputed citizen, they were looked
upon as of a dull and careless disposition, and to have little or no
sense of virtue and honor; besides this, they were to give a good
reason for what they said, and in as few words and as comprehensive as
might be; he that failed of this, or answered not to the purpose, had
his thumb bit by his master. Sometimes the Iren did this in the
presence of the old men and magistrates, that they might see whether he
punished them justly and in due measure or not; and when he did amiss,
they would not reprove him before the boys, but, when they were gone,
he was called to an account and underwent correction, if he had run far
into either of the extremes of indulgence or severity.
Their lovers and favorers, too, had a share in the young boy's honor or
disgrace; and there goes a story that one of them was fined by the
magistrates, because the lad whom he loved cried out effeminately as he
was fighting. And though this sort of love was so approved among them,
that the most virtuous matrons would make professions of it to young
girls, yet rivalry did not exist, and if several men's fancies met in
one person, it was rather the beginning of an intimate friendship,
whilst they all jointly conspired to render the object of their
affection as accomplished as possible.
They taught them, also, to speak with a natural and graceful raillery,
and to comprehend much matter of thought in few words. For Lycurgus,
who ordered, as we saw, that a great piece of money should be but of an
inconsiderable value, on the contrary would allow no discourse to be
current which did not contain in few words a great deal of useful and
curious sense; children in Sparta, by a habit of long silence, came to
give just and sententious answers; for, indeed, as loose and
incontinent livers are seldom fathers of many children, so loose and
incontinent talkers seldom originate many sensible words. King Agis,
when some Athenian laughed at their short swords, and said that the
jugglers on the stage swallowed them with ease, answered him, "We find
them long enough to reach our enemies with;" and as their swords were
short and sharp, so, it seems to me, were their sayings. They reach the
point and arrest the attention of the hearers better than any. Lycurgus
himself seems to have been short and sententious, if we may trust the
anecdotes of him; as appears by his answer to one who by all means
would set up democracy in Lacedaemon. "Begin, friend," said he, "and
set it up in your family." Another asked him why he allowed of such
mean and trivial sacrifices to the gods. He replied, "That we may
always have something to offer to them." Being asked what sort of
martial exercises or combats he approved of, he answered, "All sorts,
except that in which you stretch out your hands." Similar answers,
addressed to his countrymen by letter, are ascribed to him; as, being
consulted how they might best oppose an invasion of their enemies, he
returned this answer, "By continuing poor, and not coveting each man to
be greater than his fellow." Being consulted again whether it were
requisite to enclose the city with a wall, he sent them word, "The city
is well fortified which hath a wall of men instead of brick." But
whether these letters are counterfeit or not is not easy to determine.
Of their dislike to talkativeness, the following apothegms are
evidence. King Leonidas said to one who held him in discourse upon some
useful matter, but not in due time and place, "Much to the purpose,
Sir, elsewhere." King Charilaus, the nephew of Lycurgus, being asked
why his uncle had made so few laws, answered, "Men of few words require
but few laws." When one blamed Hecataeus the sophist because that,
being invited to the public table, he had not spoken one word all
supper-time, Archidamidas answered in his vindication, "He who knows
how to speak, knows also when. "
The sharp and yet not ungraceful retorts which I mentioned may be
instanced as follows. Demaratus, being asked in a troublesome manner by
an importunate fellow, Who was the best man in Lacedaemon? answered at
last, "He, Sir, that is the least like you." Some, in company where
Agis was, much extolled the Eleans for their just and honorable
management of the Olympic tames; "Indeed," said Agis, "they are highly
to be commended if they can do justice one day in five years."
Theopompus answered a stranger who talked much of his affection to the
Lacedaemonians, and said that his countrymen called him Philolacon (a
lover of the Lacedaemonians), that it had been more for his honor if
they had called him Philopolites (a lover of his own countrymen). And
Plistoanax, the son of Pausanias, when an orator of Athens said the
Lacedaemonians had no learning, told him, "You say true, Sir; we alone
of all the Greeks have learned none of your bad qualities." One asked
Archidamidas what number there might, be of the Spartans; he answered,
"Enough, Sir, to keep out wicked men."
We may see their character, too, in their very jests. For they did not
throw them out at random, but the very wit of them was grounded upon
something or other worth thinking about. For instance, one, being asked
to go hear a man who exactly counterfeited the voice of a nightingale,
answered, "Sir, I have heard the nightingale itself." Another, having
read the following inscription upon a tomb,
Seeking to quench a cruel tyranny,
They, at Selinus, did in battle die,
said, it served them right; for instead of trying to quench the tyranny
they should have let it burn out. A lad, being offered some game-cocks
that would die upon the spot, said that he cared not for cocks that
would die, but for such that would live and kill others. Another,
seeing people easing themselves on seats, said, "God forbid I should
sit where I could not get up to salute my elders." In short, their
answers were so sententious and pertinent, that one said well that
intellectual much more truly than athletic exercise was the Spartan
characteristic.
Nor was their instruction in music and verse less carefully attended to
than their habits of grace and good breeding in conversation. And their
very songs had a life and spirit in them that inflamed and possessed
men's minds with an enthusiasm and ardor for action; the style of them
was plain and without affectation; the subject always serious and
moral; most usually, it was in praise of such men as had died in
defense of their country, or in derision of those that had been
cowards; the former they declared happy and glorified; the life of the
latter they described as most miserable and abject. There were also
vaunts of what they would do, and boasts of what they had done, varying
with the various ages, as, for example, they had three choirs in their
solemn festivals, the first of the old men, the second of the young
men, and the last of the children; the old men began thus:
We once were young, and brave and strong;
the young men answered them, singing,
And we're so now, come on and try;
the children came last and said,
But we'll be strongest by and by.
Indeed, if we will take the pains to consider their compositions, some
of which were still extant in our days, and the airs on the flute to
which they marched when going to battle, we shall find that Terpander
and Pindar had reason to say that music and valor were allied. The
first says of Lacedaemon--
The spear and song in her do meet,
And Justice walks about her street;
and Pindar--
Councils of wise elders here,
And the young men's conquering spear,
And dance, and song, and joy appear;
both describing the Spartans as no less musical than warlike; in the
words of one of their own poets--
With the iron stern and sharp
Comes the playing on the harp.
For, indeed, before they engaged in battle, the king first did
sacrifice to the Muses, in all likelihood to put them in mind of the
manner of their education, and of the judgment that would be passed
upon their actions, and thereby to animate them to the performance of
exploits that should deserve a record. At such times, too, the
Lacedaemonians abated a little the severity of their manners in favor
of their young men, suffering them to curl and adorn their hair, and to
have costly arms, and fine clothes; and were well pleased to see them,
like proud horses, neighing and pressing to the course. And therefore,
as soon as they came to be well-grown, they took a great deal of care
of their hair, to have it parted and trimmed, especially against a day
of battle, pursuant to a saying recorded of their lawgiver, that a
large head of hair added beauty to a good face, and terror to an ugly
one.
When they were in the field, their exercises were generally more
moderate, their fare not so hard, nor so strict a hand held over them
by their officers, so that they were the only people in the world to
whom war gave repose. When their army was drawn up in battle array and
the enemy near, the king sacrificed a goat, commanded the soldiers to
set their garlands upon their heads, and the pipers to play the tune of
the hymn to Castor, and himself began the paean of advance. It was at
once a magnificent and a terrible sight to see them march on to the
tune of their flutes, without any disorder in their ranks, any
discomposure in their minds or change in their countenance, calmly and
cheerfully moving with the music to the deadly fight. Men, in this
temper, were not likely to be possessed with fear or any transport of
fury, but with the deliberate valor of hope and assurance, as if some
divinity were attending and conducting them. The king had always about
his person some one who had been crowned in the Olympic games; and upon
this account a Lacedaemonian is said to have refused a considerable
present, which was offered to him upon condition that he would not come
into the lists; and when he had with much to-do thrown his antagonist,
some of the spectators saying to him, "And now, Sir Lacedaemonian, what
are you the better for your victory?" he answered smiling, "I shall
fight next the king." After they had routed an enemy, they pursued him
till they were well assured of the victory, and then they sounded a
retreat, thinking it base and unworthy of a Grecian people to cut men
in pieces, who had given up and abandoned all resistance. This manner
of dealing with their enemies did not only show magnanimity, but was
politic too; for, knowing that they killed only those who made
resistance, and gave quarter to the rest, men generally thought it
their best way to consult their safety by flight.
Hippias the sophist says that Lycurgus himself was a great soldier and
an experienced commander. Philostephanus attributes to him the first
division of the cavalry into troops of fifties in a square body; but
Demetrius the Phalerian says quite the contrary, and that he made all
his laws in a continued peace. And, indeed, the Olympic holy truce, or
cessation of arms, that was procured by his means and management,
inclines me to think him a kind-natured man, and one that loved
quietness and peace. Notwithstanding all this, Hermippus tells us that
he had no hand in the ordinance; that Iphitus made it, and Lycurgus
came only as a spectator, and that by mere accident too. Being there,
he heard as it were a man's voice behind him, blaming and wondering at
him that he did not encourage his countrymen to resort to the assembly,
and, turning about and seeing no man, concluded that it was a voice
from heaven, and upon this immediately went to Iphitus, and assisted
him in ordering the ceremonies of that feast, which, by his means, were
better established, and with more repute than before.
To return to the Lacedaemonians. Their discipline continued still after
they were full-grown men. No one was allowed to live after his own
fancy; but the city was a sort of camp, in which every man had his
share of provisions and business set out, and looked upon himself not
so much born to serve his own ends as the interest of his country.
Therefore, if they were commanded nothing else, they went to see the
boys perform their exercises, to teach them something useful, or to
learn it themselves of those who knew better. And, indeed, one of the
greatest and highest blessings Lycurgus procured his people was the
abundance of leisure, which proceeded from his forbidding to them the
exercise of any mean and mechanical trade. Of the money-making that
depends on troublesome going about and seeing people and doing
business, they had no need at all in a state where wealth obtained no
honor or respect. The Helots tilled their ground for them, and paid
them yearly in kind the appointed quantity, without any trouble of
theirs. To this purpose there goes a story of a Lacedaemonian who,
happening to be at Athens when the courts were sitting, was told of a
citizen that had been fined for living an idle life, and was being
escorted home in much distress of mind by his condoling friends; the
Lacedaemonian was much surprised at it, and desired his friend to show
him the man who was condemned for living like a freeman. So much
beneath them did they esteem the frivolous devotion of time and
attention to the mechanical arts and to money-making.
It need not be said, that, upon the prohibition of gold and silver, all
lawsuits immediately ceased, for there was now neither avarice nor
poverty amongst them, but equality, where every one's wants were
supplied, and independence, because those wants were so small. All
their time, except when they were in the field, was taken up by the
choral dances and the festivals, in hunting, and in attendance on the
exercise-grounds and the places of public conversation. Those who were
under thirty years of age were not allowed to go into the marketplace,
but had the necessaries of their family supplied by the care of their
relations and lovers; nor was it for the credit of elderly men to be
seen too often in the marketplace; it was esteemed more suitable for
them to frequent the exercise-grounds and places of conversation, where
they spent their leisure rationally in conversation, not on
money-making and market-prices, but for the most part in passing
judgment on some action worth considering; extolling the good, and
censuring those who were otherwise, and that in a light and sportive
manner, conveying, without too much gravity, lessons of advice and
improvement. Nor was Lycurgus himself unduly austere; it was he who
dedicated, says Sosibius, the little statue of Laughter. Mirth,
introduced seasonably at their suppers and places of common
entertainment, was to serve as a sort of sweetmeat to accompany their
strict and hard life. To conclude, he bred up his citizens in such a
way that they neither would nor could live by themselves; they were to
make themselves one with the public good, and, clustering like bees
around their commander, be by their zeal and public spirit carried all
but out of themselves, and devoted wholly to their country. What their
sentiments were will better appear by a few of their sayings.
Paedaretus, not being admitted into the list of the three hundred,
returned home with a joyful face, well pleased to find that there were
in Sparta three hundred better men than himself. And Polycratidas,
being sent with some others ambassador to the lieutenants of the king
of Persia, being asked by them whether they came in a private or in a
public character, answered, "In a public, if we succeed; if not, in a
private character." Argileonis, asking some who came from Amphipolis if
her son Brasidas died courageously and as became a Spartan, on their
beginning to praise him to a high degree, and saying there was not such
another left in Sparta, answered, "Do not say so; Brasidas was a good
and brave man, but there are in Sparta many better than he."
The senate, as I said before, consisted of those who were Lycurgus's
chief aiders and assistants in his plans. The vacancies he ordered to
be supplied out of the best and most deserving men past sixty years
old; and we need not wonder if there was much striving for it; for what
more glorious competition could there be amongst men, than one in which
it was not contested who was swiftest among the swift or strongest of
the strong, but who of many wise and good was wisest and best, and
fittest to be entrusted for ever after, as the reward of his merits,
with the supreme authority of the commonwealth, and with power over the
lives, franchises, and highest interests of all his countrymen? The
manner of their election was as follows: the people being called
together, some selected persons were locked up in a room near the place
of election, so contrived that they could neither see nor be seen, but
could only hear the noise of the assembly without; for they decided
this, as most other affairs of moment, by the shouts of the people.
This done, the competitors were not brought in and presented all
together, but one after another by lot, and passed in order through the
assembly without speaking a word. Those who were locked up had
writing-tables with them, in which they recorded and marked each shout
by its loudness, without knowing in favor of which candidate each of
them was made, but merely that they came first, second, third, and so
forth. He who was found to have the most and loudest acclamations was
declared senator duly elected. Upon this he had a garland set upon his
head, and went in procession to all the temples to give thanks to the
gods; a great number of young men followed him with applauses, and
women, also, singing verses in his honor, and extolling the virtue and
happiness of his life. As he went round the city in this manner, each
of his relations and friends set a table before him, saying, "The city
honors you with this banquet;" but he, instead of accepting, passed
round to the common table where he formerly used to eat; and was served
as before, excepting that now he had a second allowance, which he took
and put by. By the time supper was ended, the women who were of kin to
him had come about the door; and he, beckoning to her whom he most
esteemed, presented to her the portion he had saved, saying, that it
had been a mark of esteem to him, and was so now to her; upon which she
was triumphantly waited upon home by the women.
Touching burials, Lycurgus made very wise regulations; for, first of
all, to cut of all superstition, he allowed them to bury their dead
within the city, and even round about their temples, to the end that
their youth might be accustomed to such spectacles, and not be afraid
to see a dead body, or imagine that to touch a corpse or to tread upon
a grave would defile a man. In the next place, he commanded them to put
nothing into the ground with them, except, if they pleased, a few olive
leaves, and the scarlet cloth that they were wrapped in. He would not
suffer the names to be inscribed, except only of men who fell in the
wars, or women who died in a sacred office. The time, too, appointed
for mourning, was very short, eleven days; on the twelfth, they were to
do sacrifice to Ceres, and leave it off; so that we may see, that as he
cut off all superfluity, so in things necessary there was nothing so
small and trivial which did not express some homage of virtue or scorn
of vice. He filled Lacedaemon all through with proofs and examples of
good conduct; with the constant sight of which from their youth up, the
people would hardly fail to be gradually formed and advanced in virtue.
And this was the reason why he forbade them to travel abroad, and go
about acquainting themselves with foreign rules of morality, the habits
of ill-educated people, and different views of government. Withal he
banished from Lacedaemon all strangers who could not give a very good
reason for their coming thither; not because he was afraid lest they
should inform themselves of and imitate his manner of government (as
Thucydides says), or learn any thing to their good; but rather lest
they should introduce something contrary to good manners. With strange
people, strange words must be admitted; these novelties produce
novelties in thought; and on these follow views and feelings whose
discordant character destroys the harmony of the state. He was as
careful to save his city from the infection of foreign bad habits, as
men usually are to prevent the introduction of a pestilence.
Hitherto I, for my part, see no sign of injustice or want of equity in
the laws of Lycurgus, though some who admit them to be well contrived
to make good soldiers, pronounce them defective in point of justice.
The Cryptia, perhaps (if it were one of Lycurgus's ordinances, as
Aristotle says it was), Gave both him and Plato, too, this opinion
alike of the lawgiver and his government. By this ordinance, the
magistrates dispatched privately some of the ablest of the young men
into the country, from time to time, armed only with their daggers, and
taking a little necessary provision with them; in the daytime, they hid
themselves in out-of-the-way places, and there lay close, but, in the
night, issued out into the highways, and killed all the Helots they
could light upon; sometimes they set upon them by day, as they were at
work in the fields, and murdered them. As, also, Thucydides, in his
history of the Peloponnesian war, tells us, that a good number of them,
after being singled out for their bravery by the Spartans, garlanded,
as enfranchised persons, and led about to all the temples in token of
honors, shortly after disappeared all of a sudden, being about the
number of two thousand; and no man either then or since could give an
account how they came by their deaths. And Aristotle, in particular,
adds, that the ephori, so soon as they were entered into their office,
used to declare war against them, that they might be massacred without
a breach of religion. It is confessed, on all hands, that the Spartans
dealt with them very hardly; for it was a common thing to force them to
drink to excess, and to lead them in that condition into their public
halls, that the children might see what a sight a drunken man is; they
made them to dance low dances, and sing ridiculous songs, forbidding
them expressly to meddle with any of a better kind. And, accordingly,
when the Thebans made their invasion into Laconia, and took a great
number of the Helots, they could by no means persuade them to sing the
verses of Terpander, Alcman, or Spendon, "For," said they, "the masters
do not like it." So that it was truly observed by one, that in Sparta
he who was free was most so, and he that was a slave there, the
greatest slave in the world. For my part, I am of opinion that these
outrages and cruelties began to be exercised in Sparta at a later time,
especially after the great earthquake, when the Helots made a general
insurrection, and, joining with the Messenians, laid the country waste,
and brought the greatest danger upon the city. For I cannot persuade
myself to ascribe to Lycurgus so wicked and barbarous a course, judging
of him from the gentleness of his disposition and justice upon all
other occasions; to which the oracle also testified.
When he perceived that his more important institutions had taken root
in the minds of his countrymen, that custom had rendered them familiar
and easy, that his commonwealth was now grown up and able to go alone,
then, as, Plato somewhere tells us, the Maker of the world, when first
he saw it existing and beginning its motion, felt joy, even so
Lycurgus, viewing with joy and satisfaction the greatness and beauty of
his political structure, now fairly at work and in motion, conceived
the thought to make it immortal too, and, as far as human forecast
could reach, to deliver it down unchangeable to posterity. He called an
extraordinary assembly of all the people, and told them that he now
thought every thing reasonably well established, both for the happiness
and the virtue of the state; but that there was one thing still behind,
of the greatest importance, which he thought not fit to impart until he
had consulted the oracle; in the meantime, his desire was that they
would observe the laws without any the least alteration until his
return, and then he would do as the god should direct him. They all
consented readily, and bade him hasten his journey; but, before he
departed, he administered an oath to the two kings, the senate, and the
whole commons, to abide by and maintain the established form of polity
until Lycurgus should be come back. This done, he set out for Delphi,
and, having sacrificed to Apollo, asked him whether the laws he had
established were good, and sufficient for a people's happiness and
virtue. The oracle answered that the laws were excellent, and that the
people, while it observed them, should live in the height of renown.
Lycurgus took the oracle in writing, and sent it over to Sparta; and,
having sacrificed the second time to Apollo, and taken leave of his
friends and his son, he resolved that the Spartans should not be
released from the oath they had taken, and that he would, of his own
act, close his life where he was. He was now about that age in which
life was still tolerable, and yet might be quitted without regret.
Every thing, moreover, about him was in a sufficiently prosperous
condition. He, therefore, made an end of himself by a total abstinence
from food; thinking it a statesman's duty to make his very death, if
possible, an act of service to the state, and even in the end of his
life to give some example of virtue and effect some useful purpose. He
would, on the one hand, crown and consummate his own happiness by a
death suitable to so honorable a life, and, on the other, would secure
to his countrymen the enjoyment of the advantages he had spent his life
in obtaining for them, since they had solemnly sworn the maintenance of
his institutions until his return. Nor was he deceived in his
expectations, for the city of Lacedaemon continued the chief city of
all Greece for the space of five hundred years, in strict observance of
Lycurgus's laws; in all which time there was no manner of alteration
made, during the reign of fourteen kings, down to the time of Agis, the
son of Archidamus. For the new creation of the ephori, though thought
to be in favor of the people, was so far from diminishing, that it very
much heightened, the aristocratical character of the government.
In the time of Agis, gold and silver first flowed into Sparta, and with
them all those mischiefs which attend the immoderate desire of riches.
Lysander promoted this disorder; for, by bringing in rich spoils from
the wars, although himself incorrupt, he yet by this means filled his
country with avarice and luxury, and subverted the laws and ordinances
of Lycurgus; so long as which were in force, the aspect presented by
Sparta was rather that of a rule of life followed by one wise and
temperate man, than of the political government of a nation. And as the
poets feign of Hercules, that, with his lion's skin and his club, he
went over the world, punishing lawless and cruel tyrants, so may it be
said of the Lacedaemonians, that, with a common staff and a coarse
coat, they gained the willing and joyful obedience of Greece, through
whose whole extent they suppressed unjust usurpations and despotisms,
arbitrated in war, and composed civil dissensions; and this often
without so much as taking down one buckler, but barely by sending some
one single deputy, to whose direction all at once submitted, like bees
swarming and taking their places around their prince. Such a fund of
order and equity, enough and to spare for others, existed in their
state.
And therefore I cannot but wonder at those who say that the Spartans
were good subjects, but bad governors, and for proof of it allege a
saying of king Theopompus, who, when one said that Sparta held up so
long because their kings could command so well, replied, "Nay, rather
because the people know so well how to obey." For people do not obey,
unless rulers know how to command; obedience is a lesson taught by
commanders. A true leader himself creates the obedience of his own
followers; as it is the last attainment in the art of riding to make a
horse gentle and tractable, so is it of the science of government, to
inspire men with a willingness to obey. The Lacedaemonians inspired men
not with a mere willingness, but with an absolute desire, to be their
subjects. For they did not send petitions to them for ships or money,
or a supply of armed men, but only for a Spartan commander; and, having
obtained one, used him with honor and reverence; so the Sicilians
behaved to Gylippus, the Chalcidians to Brasidas, and all the Greeks in
Asia to Lysander, Callicratidas, and Agesilaus; they styled them the
composers and chasteners of each people or prince they were sent to,
and had their eyes always fixed upon the city of Sparta itself, as the
perfect model of good manners and wise government. The rest seemed as
scholars, they the masters of Greece; and to this Stratonicus
pleasantly alluded, when in jest he pretended to make a law that the
Athenians should conduct religious processions and the mysteries, the
Eleans should preside at the Olympic games, and, if either did amiss,
the Lacedaemonians be beaten. Antisthenes, too, one of the scholars of
Socrates, said, in earnest, of the Thebans, when they were elated by
their victory at Leuctra, that they looked like schoolboys who had
beaten their master.
However, it was not the design of Lycurgus that his city should govern
a great many others; he thought rather that the happiness of a state,
as of a private man, consisted chiefly in the exercise of virtue, and
in the concord of the inhabitants; his aim, therefore, in all his
arrangements, was to make and keep them free-minded, self-dependent,
and temperate. And therefore all those who have written well on
politics, as Plato, Diogenes, and Zeno, have taken Lycurgus for their
model, leaving behind them, however, mere projects and words; whereas
Lycurgus was the author, not in writing but in reality, of a government
which none else could so much as copy; and while men in general have
treated the individual philosophic character as unattainable, he, by
the example of a complete philosophic state, raised himself high above
all other lawgivers of Greece. And so Aristotle says they did him less
honor at Lacedaemon after his death than he deserved, although he has a
temple there, and they offer sacrifices yearly to him as to a god.
It is reported that when his bones were brought home to Sparta his tomb
was struck with lightning; an accident which befell no eminent person
but himself, and Euripides, who was buried at Arethusa in Macedonia;
and it may serve that poet's admirers as a testimony in his favor, that
he had in this the same fate with that holy man and favorite of the
gods. Some say Lycurgus died in Cirrha; Apollothemis says, after he had
come to Elis; Timaeus and Aristoxenus, that he ended his life in Crete;
Aristoxenus adds that his tomb is shown by the Cretans in the district
of Pergamus, near the strangers' road. He left an only son, Antiorus,
on whose death without issue, his family became extinct. But his
relations and friends kept up an annual commemoration of him down to a
long time after; and the days of the meeting were called Lycurgides.
Aristocrates, the son of Hipparchus, says that he died in Crete, and
that his Cretan friends, in accordance with his own request, when they
had burned his body, scattered the ashes into the sea; for fear lest,
if his relics should be transported to Lacedaemon, the people might
pretend to be released from their oaths, and make innovations in the
government. Thus much may suffice for the life and actions of Lycurgus.
NUMA POMPILIUS
Though the pedigrees of noble families of Rome go back in exact form as
far as Numa Pompilius, yet there is great diversity amongst historians
concerning the time in which he reigned; a certain writer called
Clodius, in a book of his entitled Strictures on Chronology, avers that
the ancient registers of Rome were lost when the city was sacked by the
Gauls, and that those which are now extant were counterfeited, to
flatter and serve the humor of some men who wished to have themselves
derived from some ancient and noble lineage, though in reality with no
claim to it. And though it be commonly reported that Numa was a scholar
and a familiar acquaintance of Pythagoras, yet it is again contradicted
by others, who affirm, that he was acquainted with neither the Greek
language nor learning, and that he was a person of that natural talent
and ability as of himself to attain to virtue, or else that he found
some barbarian instructor superior to Pythagoras. Some affirm, also,
that Pythagoras was not contemporary with Numa, but lived at least five
generations after him; and that some other Pythagoras, a native of
Sparta, who, in the sixteenth Olympiad, in the third year of which Numa
became king, won a prize at the Olympic race, might, in his travel
through Italy, have gained acquaintance with Numa, and assisted him in
the constitution of his kingdom; whence it comes that many Laconian
laws and customs appear amongst the Roman institutions. Yet, in any
case, Numa was descended of the Sabines, who declare themselves to be a
colony of the Lacedaemonians. And chronology, in general, is uncertain;
especially when fixed by the lists of victors in the Olympic games,
which were published at a late period by Hippias the Elean, and rest on
no positive authority. Commencing, however, at a convenient point, we
will proceed to give the most noticeable events that are recorded of
the life of Numa.
It was the thirty-seventh year, counted from the foundation of Rome,
when Romulus, then reigning, did, on the fifth day of the month of
July, called the Caprotine Nones, offer a public sacrifice at the
Goat's Marsh, in presence of the senate and people of Rome. Suddenly
the sky was darkened, a thick cloud of storm and rain settled on the
earth; the common people fled in affright, and were dispersed; and in
this whirlwind Romulus disappeared, his body being never found either
living or dead. A foul suspicion presently attached to the patricians,
and rumors were current among the people as if that they, weary of
kingly government, and exasperated of late by the imperious deportment
of Romulus towards them, had plotted against his life and made him
away, that so they might assume the authority and government into their
own hands. This suspicion they sought to turn aside by decreeing divine
honors to Romulus, as to one not dead but translated to a higher
condition. And Proculus, a man of note, took oath that he saw Romulus
caught up into heaven in his arms and vestments, and heard him, as he
ascended, cry out that they should hereafter style him by the name of
Quirinus.
This trouble, being appeased, was followed by another, about the
election of a new king: for the minds of the original Romans and the
new inhabitants were not as yet grown into that perfect unity of
temper, but that there were diversities of factions amongst the
commonalty, and jealousies and emulations amongst the senators; for
though all agreed that it was necessary to have a king. yet what person
or of which nation, was matter of dispute. For those who had been
builders of the city with Romulus, and had already yielded a share of
their lands and dwellings to the Sabines, were indignant at any
pretension on their part to rule over their benefactors. On the other
side, the Sabines could plausibly allege, that, at their king Tatius's
decease, they had peaceably submitted to the sole command of Romulus;
so now their turn was come to have a king chosen out of their own
nation; nor did they esteem themselves to have combined with the Romans
as inferiors, nor to have contributed less than they to the increase of
Rome, which, without their numbers and association, could scarcely have
merited the name of a city.
Thus did both parties argue and dispute their cause; but lest meanwhile
discord, in the absence of all command, should occasion general
confusion, it was agreed that the hundred and fifty senators should
interchangeably execute the office of supreme magistrate, and each in
succession, with the ensigns of royalty, should offer the solemn
sacrifices and dispatch public business for the space of six hours by
day and six by night; which vicissitude and equal distribution of power
would preclude all rivalry amongst the senators and envy from the
people, when they should behold one, elevated to the degree of a king,
leveled within the space of a day to the condition of a private
citizen. This form of government is termed, by the Romans, interregnum.
Nor yet could they, by this plausible and modest way of rule, escape
suspicion and clamor of the vulgar, as though they were changing the
form of government to an oligarchy, and designing to keep the supreme
power in a sort of wardship under themselves, without ever proceeding
to choose a king. Both parties came at length to the conclusion that
the one should choose a king out of the body of the other; the Romans
make choice of a Sabine, or the Sabines name a Roman; this was esteemed
the best expedient to put an end to all party spirit, and the prince
who should be chosen would have an equal affection to the one party as
his electors and to the other as his kinsmen. The Sabines remitted the
choice to the original Romans, and they, too, on their part, were more
inclinable to receive a Sabine king elected by themselves than to see a
Roman exalted by the Sabines. Consultations being accordingly held,
they named Numa Pompilius, of the Sabine race, a person of that high
reputation for excellence, that, though he were not actually residing
at Rome, yet he was no sooner nominated than accepted by the Sabines,
with acclamation almost greater than that of the electors themselves.
The choice being declared and made known to the people, principal men
of both parties were appointed to visit and entreat him, that he would
accept the administration of the government. Numa resided at a famous
city of the Sabines called Cures, whence the Romans and Sabines gave
themselves the joint name of Quirites. Pomponius, an illustrious
person, was his father, and he the youngest of his four sons, being (as
it had been divinely ordered) born on the twenty-first day of April,
the day of the foundation of Rome. He was endued with a soul rarely
tempered by nature, and disposed to virtue, which he had yet more
subdued by discipline, a severe life, and the study of philosophy;
means which had not only succeeded in expelling the baser passions, but
also the violent and rapacious temper which barbarians are apt to think
highly of; true bravery, in his judgment, was regarded as consisting in
the subjugation of our passions by reason.
He banished all luxury and softness from his own home, and, while
citizens alike and strangers found in him an incorruptible judge and
counselor, in private he devoted himself not to amusement or lucre, but
to the worship of the immortal gods, and the rational contemplation of
their divine power and nature. So famous was he, that Tatius, the
colleague of Romulus, chose him for his son-in-law, and gave him his
only daughter, which, however, did not stimulate his vanity to desire
to dwell with his father-in-law at Rome; he rather chose to inhabit
with his Sabines, and cherish his own father in his old age; and Tatia,
also, preferred the private condition of her husband before the honors
and splendor she might have enjoyed with her father. She is said to
have died after she had been married thirteen years, and then Numa,
leaving the conversation of the town, betook himself to a country life,
and in a solitary manner frequented the groves and fields consecrated
to the gods, passing his life in desert places. And this in particular
gave occasion to the story about the goddess, namely, that Numa did not
retire from human society out of any melancholy or disorder of mind.
but because he had tasted the joys of more elevated intercourse, and,
admitted to celestial wedlock in the love and converse of the goddess
Egeria, had attained to blessedness, and to a divine wisdom.
The story evidently resembles those very ancient fables which the
Phrygians have received and still recount of Attis, the Bithynians of
Herodotus, the Arcadians of Endymion, not to mention several others who
were thought blessed and beloved of the gods; nor does it seem strange
if God, a lover, not of horses or birds, but men, should not disdain to
dwell with the virtuous and converse with the wise and temperate soul,
though it be altogether hard, indeed, to believe, that any god or
daemon is capable of a sensual or bodily love and passion for any human
form or beauty. Though, indeed, the wise Egyptians do not unplausibly
make the distinction, that it may be possible for a divine spirit so to
apply itself to the nature of a woman, as to imbreed in her the first
beginnings of generation, while on the other side they conclude it
impossible for the male kind to have any intercourse or mixture by the
body with any divinity, not considering, however, that what takes place
on the one side, must also take place on the other; intermixture, by
force of terms, is reciprocal. Not that it is otherwise than befitting
to suppose that the gods feel towards men affection, and love, in the
sense of affection, and in the form of care and solicitude for their
virtue and their good dispositions. And, therefore, it was no error of
those who feigned, that Phorbas, Hyacinthus, and Admetus were beloved
by Apollo; or that Hippolytus the Sicyonian was so much in his favor,
that, as often as he sailed from Sicyon to Cirrha, the Pythian
prophetess uttered this heroic verse, expressive of the god's attention
and joy:
Now doth Hippolytus return again, And venture his dear life upon the
main.
It is reported, also, that Pan became enamored of Pindar for his
verses, and the divine power rendered honor to Hesiod and Archilochus
after their death for the sake of the Muses; there is a statement,
also, that Aesculapius sojourned with Sophocles in his lifetime, of
which many proofs still exist, and that, when he was dead, another
deity took care for his funeral rites. And so if any credit may be
given to these instances, why should we judge it incongruous, that a
like spirit of the gods should visit Zaleucus, Minos, Zoroaster,
Lycurgus, and Numa, the controllers of kingdoms, and the legislators
for commonwealths? Nay, it may be reasonable to believe, that the gods,
with a serious purpose, assist at the councils and serious debates of
such men, to inspire and direct them; and visit poets and musicians, if
at all, in their more sportive moods; but, for difference of opinion
here, as Bacchylides said, "the road is broad." For there is no
absurdity in the account also given, that Lycurgus and Numa, and other
famous lawgivers, having the task of subduing perverse and refractory
multitudes, and of introducing great innovations, themselves made this
pretension to divine authority, which, if not true, assuredly was
expedient for the interests of those it imposed upon.
Numa was about forty years of age when the ambassadors came to make him
offers of the kingdom; the speakers were Proculus and Velesus, one or
other of whom it had been thought the people would elect as their new
king; the original Romans being for Proculus, and the Sabines for
Velesus. Their speech was very short, supposing that, when they came to
tender a kingdom, there needed little to persuade to an acceptance;
but, contrary to their expectation, they found that they had to use
many reasons and entreaties to induce one, that lived in peace and
quietness, to accept the government of a city whose foundation and
increase had been made, in a manner, in war. In presence of his father
and his kinsman Marcius, he returned answer that "Every alteration of a
man's life is dangerous to him; but madness only could induce one who
needs nothing and is satisfied with everything to quit a life he is
accustomed to; which, whatever else it is deficient in, at any rate has
the advantage of certainty over one wholly doubtful and unknown.
Though, indeed, the difficulties of this government cannot even be
called unknown; Romulus, who first held it, did not escape the
suspicion of having plotted against the life of his colleague Tatius;
nor the senate the like accusation, of having treasonably murdered
Romulus. Yet Romulus had the advantage to be thought divinely born and
miraculously preserved and nurtured. My birth was mortal; I was reared
and instructed by men that are known to you. The very points of my
character that are most commended mark me as unfit to reign,--love of
retirement and of studies inconsistent with business, a passion that
has become inveterate in me for peace, for unwarlike occupations, and
for the society of men whose meetings are but those of worship and of
kindly intercourse, whose lives in general are spent upon their farms
and their pastures. I should but be, methinks, a laughing-stock, while
I should go about to inculcate the worship of the gods, and give
lessons in the love of justice and the abhorrence of violence and war,
to a city whose needs are rather for a captain than for a king."
The Romans, perceiving by these words that he was declining to accept
the kingdom, were the more instant and urgent with him that he would
not forsake and desert them in this condition, and suffer them to
relapse, as they must, into their former sedition and civil discord,
there being no person on whom both parties could accord but on himself.
And, at length, his father and Marcius, taking him aside, persuaded him
to accept a gift so noble in itself, and tendered to him rather from
heaven than from men. "Though," said they, "you neither desire riches,
being content with what you have, nor court the fame of authority, as
having already the more valuable fame of virtue, yet you will consider
that government itself is a service of God, who now calls out into
action your qualities of justice and wisdom, which were not meant to be
left useless and unemployed. Cease, therefore, to avoid and turn your
back upon an office which, to a wise man, is a field for great and
honorable actions, for the magnificent worship of the gods, and for the
introduction of habits of piety, which authority alone can effect
amongst a people. Tatius, though a foreigner, was beloved, and the
memory of Romulus has received divine honors; and who knows but that
this people, being victorious, may be satiated with war, and, content
with the trophies and spoils they have acquired, may be, above all
things, desirous to have a pacific and justice-loving prince, to lead
them to good order and quiet? But if, indeed, their desires are
uncontrollably and madly set on war, were it not better, then, to have
the reins held by such a moderating hand as is able to divert the fury
another way, and that your native city and the whole Sabine nation
should possess in you a bond of good-will and friendship with this
young and growing power?"
With these reasons and persuasions several auspicious omens are said to
have concurred, and the zeal, also, of his fellow-citizens, who, on
understanding what message the Roman ambassadors had brought him,
entreated him to accompany them, and to accept the kingdom as a means
to unanimity and concord between the nations.
Numa, yielding to these inducements, having first performed divine
sacrifice, proceeded to Rome, being met in his way by the senate and
people, who, with an impatient desire, came forth to receive him; the
women, also, welcomed him with joyful acclamations, and sacrifices were
offered for him in all the temples, and so universal was the joy, that
they seemed to be receiving, not a new king, but a new kingdom. In this
manner he descended into the forum, where Spurius Vettius, whose turn
it was to be interrex at that hour, put it to the vote; and all
declared him king. Then the regalities and robes of authority were
brought to him; but he refused to be invested with them until he had
first consulted and been confirmed by the gods; so, being accompanied
by the priests and augurs, he ascended the Capitol, which at that time
the Romans called the Tarpeian Hill. Then the chief of the augurs
covered Numa's head, and turned his face towards the south, and,
standing behind him, laid his right hand on his head, and prayed,
turning his eyes every way, in expectation of some auspicious signal
from the gods. It was wonderful, meantime, with what silence and
devotion the multitude stood assembled in the forum in similar
expectation and suspense, till auspicious birds appeared and passed on
the right. Then Numa, appareling himself in his royal robes, descended
from the hill to the people, by whom he was received and congratulated
with shouts and acclamations of welcome, as a holy king, and beloved of
all the gods.
The first thing he did at his entrance into government was to dismiss
the band of three hundred men which had been Romulus's life-guard,
called by him Celeres, saying, that he would not distrust those who put
confidence in him, nor rule over a people that distrusted him. The next
thing he did was to add to the two priests of Jupiter and Mars a third
in honor of Romulus, whom he called the Flamen Quirinalis. The Romans
anciently called their priests Flamines, by corruption of the word
Pilamines, from a certain cap which they wore, called Pileus. In those
times, Greek words were more mixed with the Latin than at present; thus
also the royal robe, which is called Laena, Juba says, is the same as
the Greek Chlaena; and that the name of Camillus, given to the boy with
both his parents living, who serves in the temple of Jupiter, was taken
from the name given by some Greeks to Mercury, denoting his office of
attendance on the gods.
When Numa had, by such measures, won the favor and affection of the
people, he set himself, without delay, to the task of bringing the hard
and iron Roman temper to somewhat more of gentleness and equity.
Plato's expression of a city in high fever was never more applicable
than to Rome at that time; in its origin formed by daring and warlike
spirits, whom bold and desperate adventure brought thither from every
quarter, it had found in perpetual wars and incursions on its neighbors
its after sustenance and means of growth and in conflict with danger
the source of new strength; like piles, which the blows of the rammer
serve to fix into the ground. Wherefore Numa, judging it no slight
undertaking to mollify and bend to peace the presumptuous and stubborn
spirits of this people, began to operate upon them with the sanctions
of religion. He sacrificed often, and used processions and religious
dances, in which most commonly he officiated in person; by such
combinations of solemnity with refined and humanizing pleasures,
seeking to win over and mitigate their fiery and warlike tempers. At
times, also, he filled their imaginations with religious terrors,
professing that strange apparitions had been seen, and dreadful voices
heard; thus subduing and humbling their minds by a sense of
supernatural fears.
This method which Numa used made it believed that he had been much
conversant with Pythagoras; for in the philosophy of the one, as in the
policy of the other, man's relations to the deity occupy a great place.
It is said, also, that the solemnity of his exterior garb and gestures
was adopted by him from the same feeling with Pythagoras. For it is
said of Pythagoras, that he had taught an eagle to come at his call,
and stoop down to him in its flight; and that, as he passed among the
people assembled at the Olympic games, he showed them his golden thigh;
besides many other strange and miraculous seeming practices, on which
Timon the Phliasian wrote the distich,--
Who, of the glory of a juggler proud,
With solemn talk imposed upon the crowd.
In like manner Numa spoke of a certain goddess or mountain nymph that
was in love with him, and met him in secret, as before related; and
professed that he entertained familiar conversation with the Muses, to
whose teaching he ascribed the greatest part of his revelations; and
amongst them, above all, he recommended to the veneration of the Romans
one in particular, whom he named Tacita, the Silent; which he did
perhaps in imitation and honor of the Pythagorean silence. His opinion,
also, of images is very agreeable to the doctrine of Pythagoras; who
conceived of the first principle of being as transcending sense and
passion, invisible and incorrupt, and only to be apprehended by
abstract intelligence. So Numa forbade the Romans to represent God in
the form of man or beast, nor was there any painted or graven image of
a deity admitted amongst them for the space of the first hundred and
seventy years, all which time their temples and chapels were kept free
and pure from images; to such baser objects they deemed it impious to
liken the highest, and all access to God impossible, except by the pure
act of the intellect. His sacrifices, also, had great similitude to the
ceremonial of Pythagoras, for they were not celebrated with effusion of
blood, but consisted of flour, wine, and the least costly offerings.
Other external proofs, too, are urged to show the connection Numa had
with Pythagoras. The comic writer Epicharmus, an ancient author, and of
the school of Pythagoras, in a book of his dedicated to Antenor,
records that Pythagoras was made a freeman of Rome. Again, Numa gave to
one of his four sons the name of Mamercus, which was the name of one of
the sons of Pythagoras; from whence, as they say sprang that ancient
patrician family of the Aemilii, for that the king gave him in sport
the surname of Aemilius, for his engaging and graceful manner in
speaking. I remember, too, that when I was at Rome, I heard many say,
that, when the oracle directed two statues to be raised, one to the
wisest, and another to the most valiant man of Greece, they erected two
of brass, one representing Alcibiades, and the other Pythagoras.
But to pass by these matters, which are full of uncertainty, and not so
important as to be worth our time to insist on them, the original
constitution of the priests, called Pontifices, is ascribed unto Numa,
and he himself was, it is said, the first of them; and that they have
the name of Pontifices from potens, powerful, because they attend the
service of the gods, who have power and command over all. Others make
the word refer to exceptions of impossible cases; the priests were to
perform all the duties possible to them; if any thing lay beyond their
power, the exception was not to be cavilled at. The most common opinion
is the most absurd, which derives this word from pons, and assigns the
priests the title of bridge-makers. The sacrifices performed on the
bridge were amongst the most sacred and ancient, and the keeping and
repairing of the bridge attached, like any other public sacred office,
to the priesthood. It was accounted not simply unlawful, but a positive
sacrilege, to pull down the wooden bridge; which moreover is said, in
obedience to an oracle, to have been built entirely of timber and
fastened with wooden pins, without nails or cramps of iron. The stone
bridge was built a very long time after, when Aemilius was quaestor,
and they do, indeed, say also that the wooden bridge was not so old as
Numa's time, but was finished by Ancus Marcius, when he was king, who
was the grandson of Numa by his daughter.
The office of Pontifex Maximus, or chief priest, was to declare and
interpret the divine law, or, rather, to preside over sacred rites; he
not only prescribed rules for public ceremony, but regulated the
sacrifices of private persons, not suffering them to vary from
established custom, and giving information to every one of what was
requisite for purposes of worship or supplication. He was also guardian
of the vestal virgins, the institution of whom, and of their perpetual
fire, was attributed to Numa, who, perhaps fancied the charge of pure
and uncorrupted flames would be fitly entrusted to chaste and
unpolluted persons, or that fire, which consumes, but produces nothing,
bears all analogy to the virgin estate. In Greece, wherever a perpetual
holy fire is kept, as at Delphi and Athens, the charge of it is
committed, not to virgins, but widows past the time of marriage. And in
case by any accident it should happen that this fire became extinct, as
the holy lamp was at Athens under the tyranny of Aristion, and at
Delphi, when that temple was burnt by the Medes, as also in the time of
the Mithridatic and Roman civil war, when not only the fire was
extinguished, but the altar demolished, then, afterwards, in kindling
this fire again, it was esteemed an impiety to light it from common
sparks or flame, or from any thing but the pure and unpolluted rays of
the sun, which they usually effect by concave mirrors, of a figure
formed by the revolution of an isoceles rectangular triangle, all the
lines from the circumference of which meeting in a center, by holding
it in the light of the sun they can collect and concentrate all its
rays at this one point of convergence; where the air will now become
rarefied, and any light, dry, combustible matter will kindle as soon as
applied, under the effect of the rays, which here acquire the substance
and active force of fire. Some are of opinion that these vestals had no
other business than the preservation of this fire; but others conceive
that they were keepers of other divine secrets, concealed from all but
themselves, of which we have told all that may lawfully be asked or
told, in the life of Camillus. Gegania and Verenia, it is recorded,
were the names of the first two virgins consecrated and ordained by
Numa; Canuleia and Tarpeia succeeded; Servius afterwards added two, and
the number of four has continued to the present time.
The statutes prescribed by Numa for the vestals were these: that they
should take a vow of virginity for the space of thirty years, the first
ten of which they were to spend in learning their duties, the second
ten in performing them, and the remaining ten in teaching and
instructing others. Thus the whole term being completed, it was lawful
for them to marry, and, leaving the sacred order, to choose any
condition of life that pleased them; but this permission few, as they
say, made use of; and in cases where they did so, it was observed that
their change was not a happy one, but accompanied ever after with
regret and melancholy; so that the greater number, from religious fears
and scruples, forbore, and continued to old age and death in the strict
observance of a single life.
For this condition he compensated by great privileges and prerogatives;
as that they had power to make a will in the lifetime of their father;
that they had a free administration of their own affairs without
guardian or tutor, which was the privilege of women who were the
mothers of three children; when they go abroad, they have the fasces
carried before them; and if in their walks they chance to meet a
criminal on his way to execution, it saves his life, upon oath made
that the meeting was an accidental one, and not concerted or of set
purpose. Any one who presses upon the chair on which they are carried,
is put to death. If these vestals commit any minor fault, they are
punishable by the high- priest only, who scourges the offender,
sometimes with her clothes off, in a dark place, with a curtain drawn
between; but she that has broken her vow is buried alive near the gate
called Collina, where a little mound of earth stands, inside the city,
reaching some little distance, called in Latin agger; under it a narrow
room is constructed, to which a descent is made by stairs; here they
prepare a bed, and light a lamp, and leave a small quantity of
victuals, such as bread, water, a pail of milk, and some oil; that so
that body which had been consecrated and devoted to the most sacred
service of religion might not be said to perish by such a death as
famine. The culprit herself is put in a litter, which they cover over,
and tie her down with cords on it, so that nothing she utters may be
heard. They then take her to the forum; all people silently go out of
the way as she passes, and such as follow accompany the bier with
solemn and speechless sorrow; and, indeed, there is not any spectacle
more appalling, nor any day observed by the city with greater
appearance of gloom and sadness. When they come to the place of
execution, the officers loose the cords, and then the high- priest,
lifting his hands to heaven, pronounces certain prayers to himself
before the act; then he brings out the prisoner, being still covered,
and placing her upon the steps that lead down to the cell, turns away
his face with the rest of the priests; the stairs are drawn up after
she has gone down, and a quantity of earth is heaped up over the
entrance to the cell, so as to prevent it from being distinguished from
the rest of the mound. This is the punishment of those who break their
vow of virginity.
It is said, also, that Numa built the temple of Vesta, which was
intended for a repository of the holy fire, of a circular form, not to
represent the figure of the earth, as if that were the same as Vesta,
but that of the general universe, in the center of which the
Pythagoreans place the element of fire, and give it the name of Vesta
and the unit; and do not hold that the earth is immovable, or that it
is situated in the center of the globe, but that it keeps a circular
motion about the seat of fire, and is not in the number of the primary
elements; in this agreeing with the opinion of Plato, who, they say, in
his later life, conceived that the earth held a lateral position, and
that the central and sovereign space was reserved for some nobler body.
There was yet a farther use of the priests, and that was to give people
directions in the national usages at funeral rites. Numa taught them to
regard these offices, not as a pollution, but as a duty paid to the
gods below, into whose hands the better part of us is transmitted;
especially they were to worship the goddess Libitina, who presided over
all the ceremonies performed at burials; whether they meant hereby
Proserpina, or, as the most learned of the Romans conceive, Venus, not
inaptly attributing the beginning and end of man's life to the agency
of one and the same deity. Numa also prescribed rules for regulating
the days of mourning, according to certain times and ages. As, for
example, a child of three years was not to be mourned for at all; one
older, up to ten years, for as many months as it was years old; and the
longest time of mourning for any person whatsoever was not to exceed
the term of ten months; which was the time appointed for women that
lost their husbands to continue in widowhood. If any married again
before that time, by the laws of Numa she was to sacrifice a cow big
with calf.
Numa, also, was founder of several other orders of priests, two of
which I shall mention, the Salii and the Feciales, which are among the
clearest proofs of the devoutness and sanctity of his character. These
Fecials, or guardians of peace, seem to have had their name from their
office, which was to put a stop to disputes by conference and speech;
for it was not allowable to take up arms until they had declared all
hopes of accommodation to be at an end, for in Greek, too, we call it
peace when disputes are settled by words, and not by force. The Romans
commonly dispatched the Fecials, or heralds, to those who had offered
them injury, requesting satisfaction; and, in case they refused, they
then called the gods to witness, and, with imprecations upon themselves
and their country should they be acting unjustly, so declared war;
against their will, or without their consent, it was lawful neither for
soldier nor king to take up arms; the war was begun with them, and,
when they had first handed it over to the commander as a just quarrel,
then his business was to deliberate of the manner and ways to carry it
on. It is believed that the slaughter and destruction which the Gauls
made of the Romans was a judgment on the city for neglect of this
religious proceeding; for that when these barbarians besieged the
Clusinians, Fabius Ambustus was dispatched to their camp to negotiate
peace for the besieged; and, on their returning a rude refusal, Fabius
imagined that his office of ambassador was at an end, and, rashly
engaging on the side of the Clusinians, challenged the bravest of the
enemy to a single combat. It was the fortune of Fabius to kill his
adversary, and to take his spoils; but when the Gauls discovered it,
they sent a herald to Rome to complain against him; since, before war
was declared, he had, against the law of nations, made a breach of the
peace. The matter being debated in the senate, the Fecials were of
opinion that Fabius ought to be consigned into the hands of the Gauls;
but he, being forewarned of their judgment, fled to the people, by
whose protection and favor he escaped the sentence. On this, the Gauls
marched with their army to Rome, where, having taken the Capitol, they
sacked the city. The particulars of all which are fully given in the
history of Caminus.
The origin of the Salii is this. In the eighth year of the reign of
Numa, a terrible pestilence, which traversed all Italy, ravaged
likewise the city of Rome; and the citizens being in distress and
despondent, a brazen target, they say, fell from heaven into the hands
of Numa who gave them this marvelous account of it: that Egeria and the
Muses had assured him it was sent from heaven for the cure and safety
of the city, and that, to keep it secure, he was ordered by them to
make eleven others, so like in dimension and form to the original that
no thief should be able to distinguish the true from the counterfeit.
He farther declared, that he was commanded to consecrate to the Muses
the place, and the fields about it, where they had been chiefly wont to
meet with him, and that the spring which watered the field should be
hallowed for the use of the vestal virgins, who were to wash and
cleanse the penetralia of their sanctuary with those holy waters. The
truth of all which was speedily verified by the cessation of the
pestilence. Numa displayed the target to the artificers and bade them
show their skill in making others like it; all despaired, until at
length one Mamurius Veturius, an excellent workman, happily hit upon
it, and made all so exactly the same that Numa himself was at a loss,
and could not distinguish. The keeping of these targets was committed
to the charge of certain priests, called Salii, who did not receive
their name, as some tell the story, from Salius, a dancing-master born
in Samothrace, or at Mantinea, who taught the way of dancing in arms;
but more truly from that jumping dance which the Salii themselves use,
when in the month of March they carry the sacred targets through the
city; at which procession they are habited in short frocks of purple,
girt with a broad belt studded with brass; on their heads they wear a
brass helmet, and carry in their hands short daggers, which they clash
every now and then against the targets. But the chief thing is the
dance itself. They move with much grace, performing, in quick time and
close order, various intricate figures, with a great display of
strength and agility. The targets were called Ancilia from their form;
for they are not made round, nor like proper targets, of a complete
circumference, but are cut out into a wavy line, the ends of which are
rounded off and turned in at the thickest part towards each other; so
that their shape is curvilinear, or, in Greek, ancylon; or the name may
come from ancon, the elbow, on which they are carried. Thus Juba
writes, who is eager to make it Greek. But it might be, for that
matter, from its having come down anecathen, from above; or from its
akesis, or cure of diseases; or auchmon Iysis, because it put an end to
a drought; or from its anaschesis, or relief from calamities, which is
the origin of the Athenian name Anaces, given to Castor and Pollux; if
we must, that is, reduce it to Greek. The reward which Mamurius
received for his art was to be mentioned and commemorated in the verses
which the Salii sang, as they danced in their arms through the city;
though some will have it that they do not say Veturium Mamurium, but
Veterem Memoriam, ancient remembrance.
After Numa had in this manner instituted these several orders of
priests, he erected, near the temple of Vesta, what is called to this
day Regia, or king's house, where he spent the most part of his time,
performing divine service, instructing the priests, or conversing with
them on sacred subjects. He had another house upon the Mount
Quirinalis, the site of which they show to this day. In all public
processions and solemn prayers, criers were sent before to give notice
to the people that they should forbear their work, and rest. They say
that the Pythagoreans did not allow people to worship and pray to their
gods by the way, but would have them go out from their houses direct,
with their minds set upon the duty, and so Numa, in like manner, wished
that his citizens should neither see nor hear any religious service in
a perfunctory and inattentive manner, but, laying aside all other
occupations, should apply their minds to religion as to a most serious
business; and that the streets should be free from all noises and cries
that accompany manual labor, and clear for the sacred solemnity. Some
traces of this custom remain at Rome to this day, for, when the consul
begins to take auspices or do sacrifice, they call out to the people,
Hoc age, Attend to this, whereby the auditors then present are
admonished to compose and recollect themselves. Many other of his
precepts resemble those of the Pythagoreans. The Pythagoreans said, for
example, "Thou shalt not make a peck-measure thy seat to sit on. Thou
shalt not stir the fire with a sword. When thou goest out upon a
journey, look not behind thee. When thou sacrificest to the celestial
gods, let it be with an odd number, and when to the terrestrial, with
even." The significance of each of which precepts they would not
commonly disclose. So some of Numa's traditions have no obvious
meaning. "Thou shalt not make libation to the gods of wine from an
unpruned vine. No sacrifices shall be performed without meal. Turn
round to pay adoration to the gods; sit after you have worshipped." The
first two directions seem to denote the cultivation and subduing of the
earth as a part of religion; and as to the turning which the worshipers
are to use in divine adoration, it is said to represent the rotatory
motion of the world. But, in my opinion, the meaning rather is, that
the worshiper, since the temples front the east, enters with his back
to the rising sun; there, faces round to the east, and so turns back to
the god of the temple, by this circular movement referring the
fulfillment of his prayer to both divinities. Unless, indeed, this
change of posture may have a mystical meaning, like the Egyptian
wheels, and signify to us the instability of human fortune, and that,
in whatever way God changes and turns our lot and condition, we should
rest contented, and accept it as right and fitting. They say, also,
that the sitting after worship was to be by way of omen of their
petitions being granted, and the blessing they asked assured to them.
Again, as different courses of actions are divided by intervals of
rest, they might seat themselves after the completion of what they had
done, to seek favor of the gods for beginning something else. And this
would very well suit with what we had before; the lawgiver wants to
habituate us to make our petitions to the deity not by the way, and as
it were, in a hurry, when we have other things to do, but with time and
leisure to attend to it. By such discipline and schooling in religion,
the city passed insensibly into such a submissiveness of temper, and
stood in such awe and reverence of the virtue of Numa, that they
received, with an undoubted assurance, whatever he delivered, though
never so fabulous, and thought nothing incredible or impossible from
him.
There goes a story that he once invited a great number of citizens to
an entertainment, at which the dishes in which the meat was served were
very homely and plain, and the repast itself poor and ordinary fare;
the guests seated, he began to tell them that the goddess that
consulted with him was then at that time come to him; when on a sudden
the room was furnished with all sorts of costly drinking-vessels, and
the tables loaded with rich meats, and a most sumptuous entertainment.
But the dialogue which is reported to have passed between him and
Jupiter surpasses all the fabulous legends that were ever invented.
They say that before Mount Aventine was inhabited or enclosed within
the walls of the city, two demi-gods, Picus and Faunus, frequented the
Springs and thick shades of that place; which might be two satyrs, or
Pans, except that they went about Italy playing the same sorts of
tricks, by skill in drugs and magic, as are ascribed by the Greeks to
the Dactyli of Mount Ida. Numa contrived one day to surprise these
demi-gods, by mixing wine and honey in the waters of the spring of
which they usually drank. On finding themselves ensnared, they changed
themselves into various shapes, dropping their own form and assuming
every kind of unusual and hideous appearance; but when they saw they
were safely entrapped, and in no possibility of getting free, they
revealed to him many secrets and future events; and particularly a
charm for thunder and lightning, still in use, performed with onions
and hair and pilchards. Some say they did not tell him the charm, but
by their magic brought down Jupiter out of heaven; and that he then, in
an angry manner answering the inquiries, told Numa, that, if he would
charm the thunder and lightning, he must do it with heads. "How," said
Numa, "with the heads of onions?" "No," replied Jupiter, "of men." But
Numa, willing to elude the cruelty of this receipt, turned it another
way, saying, "Your meaning is, the hairs of men's heads." "No," replied
Jupiter, "with living"--"pilchards," said Numa, interrupting him. These
answers he had learnt from Egeria. Jupiter returned again to heaven,
pacified and ilcos, or propitious. The place was, in remembrance of
him, called Ilicium, from this Greek word; and the spell in this manner
effected.
These stories, laughable as they are, show us the feelings which people
then, by force of habit, entertained towards the deity. And Numa's own
thoughts are said to have been fixed to that degree on divine objects,
that he once, when a message was brought to him that "Enemies are
approaching," answered with a smile, "And I am sacrificing." It was he,
also, that built the temples of Faith and Terminus and taught the
Romans that the name of Faith was the most solemn oath that they could
swear. They still use it; and to the god Terminus, or Boundary, they
offer to this day both public and private sacrifices, upon the borders
and stone- marks of their land; living victims now, though anciently
those sacrifices were solemnized without blood; for Numa reasoned that
the god of boundaries, who watched over peace, and testified to fair
dealing, should have no concern with blood. It is very clear that it
was this king who first prescribed bounds to the territory of Rome; for
Romulus would but have openly betrayed how much he had encroached on
his neighbors' lands, had he ever set limits to his own; for boundaries
are, indeed, a defense to those who choose to observe them, but are
only a testimony against the dishonesty of those who break through
them. The truth is, the portion of lands which the Romans possessed at
the beginning was very narrow, until Romulus enlarged them by war; all
whose acquisitions Numa now divided amongst the indigent commonalty,
wishing to do away with that extreme want which is a compulsion to
dishonesty, and, by turning the people to husbandry, to bring them, as
well as their lands, into better order. For there is no employment that
gives so keen and quick a relish for peace as husbandry and a country
life, which leave in men all that kind of courage that makes them ready
to fight in defense of their own, while it destroys the license that
breaks out into acts of injustice and rapacity. Numa, therefore, hoping
agriculture would be a sort of charm to captivate the affections of his
people to peace, and viewing it rather as a means to moral than to
economical profit, divided all the lands into several parcels, to which
he gave the name of pagus, or parish, and over every one of them he
ordained chief overseers; and, taking a delight sometimes to inspect
his colonies in person, he formed his judgment of every man's habits by
the results; of which being witness himself, he preferred those to
honors and employments who had done well, and by rebukes and reproaches
incited the indolent and careless to improvement. But of all his
measures the most commended was his distribution of the people by their
trades into companies or guilds; for as the city consisted, or rather
did not consist of, but was divided into, two different tribes, the
diversity between which could not be effaced and in the mean time
prevented all unity and caused perpetual tumult and ill-blood,
reflecting how hard substances that do not readily mix when in the lump
may, by being beaten into powder, in that minute form be combined, he
resolved to divide the whole population into a number of small
divisions, and thus hoped, by introducing other distinctions, to
obliterate the original and great distinction, which would be lost
among the smaller. So, distinguishing the whole people by the several
arts and trades, he formed the companies of musicians, goldsmiths,
carpenters, dyers, shoemakers, skinners, braziers, and potters; and all
other handicraftsmen he composed and reduced into a single company,
appointing every one their proper courts, councils, and religious
observances. In this manner all factious distinctions began, for the
first time, to pass out of use, no person any longer being either
thought of or spoken of under the notion of a Sabine or a Roman, a
Romulian or a Tatian; and the new division became a source of general
harmony and intermixture.
He is also much to be commended for the repeal, or rather amendment, of
that law which gives power to fathers to sell their children; he
exempted such as were married, conditionally that it had been with the
liking and consent of their parents; for it seemed a hard thing that a
woman who had given herself in marriage to a man whom she judged free
should afterwards find herself living with a slave.
He attempted, also, the formation of a calendar, not with absolute
exactness, yet not without some scientific knowledge. During the reign
of Romulus, they had let their months run on without any certain or
equal term; some of them contained twenty days, others thirty-five,
others more; they had no sort of knowledge of the inequality in the
motions of the sun and moon; they only kept to the one rule that the
whole course of the year contained three hundred and sixty days. Numa,
calculating the difference between the lunar and the solar' year at
eleven days, for that the moon completed her anniversary course in
three hundred and fifty-four days, and the sun in three hundred and
sixty- five, to remedy this incongruity doubled the eleven days, and
every other year added an intercalary month, to follow February,
consisting of twenty-two days, and called by the Romans the month
Mercedinus. This amendment, however, itself, in course of time, came to
need other amendments. He also altered the order of the months; for
March, which was reckoned the first, he put into the third place; and
January, which was the eleventh, he made the first; and February, which
was the twelfth and last, the second. Many will have it, that it was
Numa, also, who added the two months of January and February; for in
the beginning they had had a year of ten months; as there are
barbarians who count only three; the Arcadians, in Greece, had but
four; the Acarnanians, six. The Egyptian year at first, they say, was
of one month; afterwards, of four; and so, though they live in the
newest of all countries, they have the credit of being a more ancient
nation than any; and reckon, in their genealogies, a prodigious number
of years, counting months, that is, as years. That the Romans, at
first, comprehended the whole year within ten, and not twelve months,
plainly appears by the name of the last, December, meaning the tenth
month; and that March was the first is likewise evident, for the fifth
month after it was called Quintilis, and the sixth Sextilis, and so the
rest; whereas, if January and February had, in this account, preceded
March, Quintilis would have been fifth in name and seventh in
reckoning. It was also natural, that March, dedicated to Mars, should
be Romulus's first, and April, named from Venus, or Aphrodite, his
second month; in it they sacrifice to Venus, and the women bathe on the
calends, or first day of it, with myrtle garlands on their heads. But
others, because of its being p and not ph, will not allow of the
derivation of this word from Aphrodite, but say it is called April from
aperio, Latin for to open, because that this month is high spring, and
opens and discloses the buds and flowers. The next is called May, from
Maia, the mother of Mercury, to whom it is sacred; then June follows,
so called from Juno; some, however, derive them from the two ages, old
and young, majores being their name for older, and juniores for younger
men. To the other months they gave denominations according to their
order; so the fifth was called Quintilis, Sextilis the sixth, and the
rest, September, October, November, and December. Afterwards Quintilis
received the name of Julius, from Caesar who defeated Pompey; as also
Sextilis that of Augustus, from the second Caesar, who had that title.
Domitian, also, in imitation, gave the two other following months his
own names, of Germanicus and Domitianus; but, on his being slain, they
recovered their ancient denominations of September and October. The two
last are the only ones that have kept their names throughout without
any alteration. Of the months which were added or transposed in their
order by Numa, February comes from februa; and is as much as
Purification month; in it they make offerings to the dead, and
celebrate the Lupercalia, which, in most points, resembles a
purification. January was so called from Janus, and precedence given to
it by Numa before March, which was dedicated to the god Mars; because,
as I conceive, he wished to take every opportunity of intimating that
the arts and studies of peace are to be preferred before those of war.
For this Janus, whether in remote antiquity he were a demi-god or a
king, was certainly a great lover of civil and social unity, and one
who reclaimed men from brutal and savage living; for which reason they
figure him with two faces, to represent the two states and conditions
out of the one of which he brought mankind, to lead them into the
other. His temple at Rome has two gates, which they call the gates of
war, because they stand open in the time of war, and shut in the times
of peace; of which latter there was very seldom an example, for, as the
Roman empire was enlarged and extended, it was so encompassed with
barbarous nations and enemies to be resisted, that it was seldom or
never at peace. Only in the time of Augustus Caesar, after he had
overcome Antony, this temple was shut; as likewise once before, when
Marcus Atilius and Titus Manlius were consuls; but then it was not long
before, wars breaking out, the gates were again opened. But, during the
reign of Numa, those gates were never seen open a single day, but
continued constantly shut for a space of forty-three years together;
such an entire and universal cessation of war existed. For not only had
the people of Rome itself been softened and charmed into a peaceful
temper by the just and mild rule of a pacific prince, but even the
neighboring cities, as if some salubrious and gentle air had blown from
Rome upon them, began to experience a change of feeling, and partook in
the general longing for the sweets of peace and order, and for life
employed in the quiet tillage of soil, bringing up of children, and
worship of the gods. Festival days and sports, and the secure and
peaceful interchange of friendly visits and hospitalities prevailed all
through the whole of Italy. The love of virtue and justice flowed from
Numa's wisdom as from a fountain, and the serenity of his spirit
diffused itself, like a calm, on all sides; so that the hyperboles of
poets were flat and tame to express what then existed; as that
Over the iron shield the spiders hang their threads,
or that
Rust eats the pointed spear and double-edged sword.
No more is heard the trumpet's brazen roar,
Sweet sleep is banished from our eyes no more.
For, during the whole reign of Numa, there was neither war, nor
sedition, nor innovation in the state, nor any envy or ill-will to his
person, nor plot or conspiracy from views of ambition. Either fear of
the gods that were thought to watch over him, or reverence for his
virtue, or a divine felicity of fortune that in his days preserved
human innocence, made his reign, by whatever means, a living example
and verification of that saying which Plato, long afterwards, ventured
to pronounce, that the sole and only hope of respite or remedy for
human evils was in some happy conjunction of events, which should unite
in a single person the power of a king and the wisdom of a philosopher,
so as to elevate virtue to control and mastery over vice. The wise man
is blessed in himself, and blessed also are the auditors who can hear
and receive those words which flow from his mouth; and perhaps, too,
there is no need of compulsion or menaces to affect the multitude, for
the mere sight itself of a shining and conspicuous example of virtue in
the life of their prince will bring them spontaneously to virtue, and
to a conformity with that blameless and blessed life of good will and
mutual concord, supported by temperance and justice, which is the
highest benefit that human means can confer; and he is the truest ruler
who can best introduce it into the hearts and practice of his subjects.
It is the praise of Numa that no one seems ever to have discerned this
so clearly as he.
As to his children and wives, there is a diversity of reports by
several authors; some will have it that he never had any other wife
than Tatia, nor more children than one daughter called Pompilia; others
will have it that he left also four sons, namely, Pompo, Pinus, Calpus,
and Mamercus, every one of whom had issue, and from them descended the
noble and illustrious families of Pomponii, Pinarii, Calpurnii, and
Mamerci, which for this reason took also the surname of Rex, or King.
But there is a third set of writers who say that these pedigrees are
but a piece of flattery used by writers, who, to gain favor with these
great families, made them fictitious genealogies from the lineage of
Numa; and that Pompilia was not the daughter of Tatia, but Lucretia,
another wife whom he married after he came to his kingdom; however, all
of them agree in opinion that she was married to the son of that
Marcius who persuaded him to accept the government, and accompanied him
to Rome where, as a mark of honor, he was chosen into the senate, and,
after the death of Numa, standing in competition with Tullus Hostilius
for the kingdom, and being disappointed of the election, in discontent
killed himself; his son Marcius, however, who had married Pompilia,
continuing at Rome, was the father of Ancus Marcius, who succeeded
Tullus Hostilius in the kingdom, and was but five years of age when
Numa died.
Numa lived something above eighty years, and then, as Piso writes, was
not taken out of the world by a sudden or acute disease, but died of
old age and by a gradual and gentle decline. At his funeral all the
glories of his life were consummated, when all the neighboring states
in alliance and amity with Rome met to honor and grace the rites of his
interment with garlands and public presents; the senators carried the
bier on which his corpse was laid, and the priests followed and
accompanied the solemn procession; while a general crowd, in which
women and children took part, followed with such cries and weeping as
if they had bewailed the death and loss of some most dear relation
taken away in the flower of age, and not of an old and worn-out king.
It is said that his body, by his particular command, was not burnt, but
that they made, in conformity with his order, two stone coffins, and
buried both under the hill Janiculum, in one of which his body was
laid, and in the other his sacred books, which, as the Greek
legislators their tables, he had written out for himself, but had so
long inculcated the contents of them, whilst he lived, into the minds
and hearts of the priests, that their understandings became fully
possessed with the whole spirit and purpose of them; and he, therefore,
bade that they should be buried with his body, as though such holy
precepts could not without irreverence be left to circulate in mere
lifeless writings. For this very reason, they say, the Pythagoreans
bade that their precepts should not be committed to paper, but rather
preserved in the living memories of those who were worthy to receive
them; and when some of their out-of-the-way and abstruse geometrical
processes had been divulged to an unworthy person, they said the gods
threatened to punish this wickedness and profanity by a signal and
wide-spreading calamity. With these several instances, concurring to
show a similarity in the lives of Numa and Pythagoras, we may easily
pardon those who seek to establish the fact of a real acquaintance
between them.
Valerius Antias writes that the books which were buried in the
aforesaid chest or coffin of stone were twelve volumes of holy writ and
twelve others of Greek philosophy, and that about four hundred years
afterwards, when P. Cornelius and M. Baebius were consuls, in a time of
heavy rains, a violent torrent washed away the earth, and dislodged the
chests of stone; and, their covers falling off, one of them was found
wholly empty, without the least relic of any human body; in the other
were the books before mentioned, which the praetor Petilius having read
and perused, made oath in the senate, that, in his opinion, it was not
fit for their contents to be made public to the people; whereupon the
volumes were all carried to the Comitium, and there burnt.
It is the fortune of all good men that their virtue rises in glory
after their deaths, and that the envy which evil men conceive against
them never outlives them long; some have the happiness even to see it
die before them; but in Numa's case, also, the fortunes of the
succeeding kings served as foils to set off the brightness of his
reputation. For after him there were five kings, the last of whom ended
his old age in banishment, being deposed from his crown; of the other
four, three were assassinated and murdered by treason; the other, who
was Tullus Hostilius, that immediately succeeded Numa, derided his
virtues, and especially his devotion to religious worship, as a
cowardly and mean- spirited occupation, and diverted the minds of the
people to war; but was checked in these youthful insolences, and was
himself driven by an acute and tormenting disease into superstitions
wholly different from Numa's piety, and left others also to participate
in these terrors when he died by the stroke of a thunderbolt.
COMPARISON OF NUMA WITH LYCURGUS
Having thus finished the lives of Lycurgus and Numa, we shall now,
though the work be difficult, put together their points of difference
as they lie here before our view. Their points of likeness are obvious;
their moderation, their religion, their capacity of government and
discipline, their both deriving their laws and constitutions from the
gods. Yet in their common glories there are circumstances of diversity;
for, first, Numa accepted and Lycurgus resigned a kingdom; Numa
received without desiring it, Lycurgus had it and gave it up; the one
from a private person and a stranger was raised by others to be their
king, the other from the condition of a prince voluntarily descended to
the state of privacy. It was glorious to acquire a throne by justice,
yet more glorious to prefer justice before a throne; the same virtue
which made the one appear worthy of regal power exalted the other to
the disregard of it. Lastly, as musicians tune their harps, so the one
let down the high-flown spirits of the people at Rome to a lower key,
as the other screwed them up at Sparta to a higher note, when they were
sunken low by dissoluteness and riot. The harder task was that of
Lycurgus; for it was not so much his business to persuade his citizens
to put off their armor or ungird their swords, as to cast away their
gold or silver, and abandon costly furniture and rich tables; nor was
it necessary to preach to them, that, laying aside their arms, they
should observe the festivals, and sacrifice to the gods, but rather,
that, giving up feasting and drinking, they should employ their time in
laborious and martial exercises; so that while the one effected all by
persuasions and his people's love for him, the other, with danger and
hazard of his person, scarcely in the end succeeded. Numa's muse was a
gentle and loving inspiration, fitting him well to turn and soothe his
people into peace and justice out of their violent and fiery tempers;
whereas, if we must admit the treatment of the Helots to be a part of
Lycurgus's legislations, a most cruel and iniquitous proceeding, we
must own that Numa was by a great deal the more humane and Greek-like
legislator, granting even to actual slaves a license to sit at meat
with their masters at the feast of Saturn, that they, also, might have
some taste and relish of the sweets of liberty. For this custom, too,
is ascribed to Numa, whose wish was, they conceive, to give a place in
the enjoyment of the yearly fruits of the soil to those who had helped
to produce them. Others will have it to be in remembrance of the age of
Saturn, when there was no distinction between master and slave, but all
lived as brothers and as equals in a condition of equality.
In general, it seems that both aimed at the same design and intent,
which was to bring their people to moderation and frugality; but, of
other virtues, the one set his affection most on fortitude, and the
other on justice; unless we will attribute their different ways to the
different habits and temperaments which they had to work upon by their
enactments; for Numa did not out of cowardice or fear affect peace, but
because he would not be guilty of injustice; nor did Lycurgus promote a
spirit of war in his people that they might do injustice to others, but
that they might protect themselves by it.
In bringing the habits they formed in their people to a just and happy
mean, mitigating them where they exceeded, and strengthening them where
they were deficient, both were compelled to make great innovations. The
frame of government which Numa formed was democratic and popular to the
last extreme, goldsmiths and flute-players and shoemakers constituting
his promiscuous, many-colored commonalty. Lycurgus was rigid and
aristocratical, banishing all the base and mechanic arts to the company
of servants and strangers, and allowing the true citizens no implements
but the spear and shield, the trade of war only, and the service of
Mars, and no other knowledge or study but that of obedience to their
commanding officers, and victory over their enemies. Every sort of
money-making was forbid them as freemen; and to make them thoroughly so
and to keep them so through their whole lives, every conceivable
concern with money was handed over, with the cooking and the waiting at
table, to slaves and helots. But Numa made none of these distinctions;
he only suppressed military rapacity, allowing free scope to every
other means of obtaining wealth; nor did he endeavor to do away with
inequality in this respect, but permitted riches to be amassed to any
extent, and paid no attention to the gradual and continual augmentation
and influx of poverty; which it was his business at the outset, whilst
there was as yet no great disparity in the estates of men, and whilst
people still lived much in one manner, to obviate, as Lycurgus did, and
take measures of precaution against the mischiefs of avarice, mischiefs
not of small importance, but the real seed and first beginning of all
the great and extensive evils of after times. The re-division of
estates, Lycurgus is not, it seems to me, to be blamed for making, nor
Numa for omitting; this equality was the basis and foundation of the
one commonwealth; but at Rome, where the lands had been lately divided,
there was nothing to urge any re-division or any disturbance of the
first arrangement, which was probably still in existence.
With respect to wives and children, and that community which both, with
a sound policy, appointed, to prevent all jealousy, their methods,
however, were different. For when a Roman thought himself to have a
sufficient number of children, in case his neighbor who had none should
come and request his wife of him, he had a lawful power to give her up
to him who desired her, either for a certain time, or for good. The
Lacedaemonian husband on the other hand, might allow the use of his
wife to any other that desired to have children by her, and yet still
keep her in his house, the original marriage obligation still
subsisting as at first. Nay, many husbands, as we have said, would
invite men whom they thought like]y to procure them fine and
good-looking children into their houses. What is the difference, then,
between the two customs? Shall we say that the Lacedaemonian system is
one of an extreme and entire unconcern about their wives, and would
cause most people endless disquiet and annoyance with pangs and
jealousies? The Roman course wears an air of a more delicate
acquiescence, draws the veil of a new contract over the change, and
concedes the general insupportableness of mere community? Numa's
directions, too, for the care of young women are better adapted to the
female sex and to propriety; Lycurgus's are altogether unreserved and
unfeminine, and have given a great handle to the poets, who call them
(Ibycus, for example) Phaenomerides, bare- thighed; and give them the
character (as does Euripides) of being wild after husbands;
These with the young men from the house go out, With thighs that show,
and robes that fly about.
For in fact the skirts of the frock worn by unmarried girls were not
sewn together at the lower part, but used to fly back and show the
whole thigh bare as they walked. The thing is most distinctly given by
Sophocles.
--She, also, the young maid, Whose frock, no robe yet o'er it laid,
Folding back, leaves her bare thigh free, Hermione.
And so their women, it is said, were bold and masculine, overbearing to
their husbands in the first place, absolute mistresses in their houses,
giving their opinions about public matters freely, and speaking openly
even on the most important subjects. But the matrons, under the
government of Numa, still indeed received from their husbands all that
high respect and honor which had been paid them under Romulus as a sort
of atonement for the violence done to them; nevertheless, great modesty
was enjoined upon them; all busy intermeddling forbidden, sobriety
insisted on, and silence made habitual. Wine they were not to touch at
all, nor to speak, except in their husband's company, even on the most
ordinary subjects. So that once when a woman had the confidence to
plead her own cause in a court of judicature, the senate, it is said,
sent to inquire of the oracle what the prodigy did portend; and,
indeed, their general good behavior and submissiveness is justly proved
by the record of those that were otherwise; for as the Greek historians
record in their annals the names of those who first unsheathed the
sword of civil war, or murdered their brothers, or were parricides, or
killed their mothers, so the Roman writers report it as the first
example, that Spurius Carvilius divorced his wife, being a case that
never before happened, in the space of two hundred and thirty years
from the foundation of the city; and that one Thalaea, the wife of
Pinarius, had a quarrel (the first instance of the kind) with her
mother-in-law, Gegania, in the reign of Tarquinius Superbus; so
successful was the legislator in securing order and good conduct in the
marriage relation. Their respective regulations for marrying the young
women are in accordance with those for their education. Lycurgus made
them brides when they were of full age and inclination for it.
Intercourse, where nature was thus consulted, would produce, he
thought, love and tenderness, instead of the dislike and fear attending
an unnatural compulsion; and their bodies, also, would be better able
to bear the trials of breeding and of bearing children, in his judgment
the one end of marriage. Astolos chiton, the under garment, frock, or
tunic, without anything, either himation or peplus, over it.
The Romans, on the other hand, gave their daughters in marriage as
early as twelve years old, or even under; thus they thought their
bodies alike and minds would be delivered to the future husband pure
and undefiled. The way of Lycurgus seems the more natural with a view
to the birth of children; the other, looking to a life to be spent
together, is more moral. However, the rules which Lycurgus drew up for
superintendence of children, their collection into companies, their
discipline and association, as also his exact regulations for their
meals, exercises, and sports, argue Numa no more than an ordinary
lawgiver. Numa left the whole matter simply to be decided by the
parent's wishes or necessities; he might, if he pleased, make his son a
husbandman or carpenter, coppersmith or musician; as if it were of no
importance for them to be directed and trained up from the beginning to
one and the same common end, or as though it would do for them to be
like passengers on shipboard, brought thither each for his own ends and
by his own choice, uniting to act for the common good only in time of
danger upon occasion of their private fears, in general looking simply
to their own interest.
We may forbear, indeed, to blame common legislators, who may be
deficient in power or knowledge. But when a wise man like Numa had
received the sovereignty over a new and docile people, was there any
thing that would better deserve his attention than the education of
children, and the training up of the young, not to contrariety and
discordance of character, but to the unity of the common model of
virtue, to which from their cradle they should have been formed and
molded? One benefit among many that Lycurgus obtained by his course was
the permanence which it secured to his laws. The obligation of oaths to
preserve them would have availed but little, if he had not, by
discipline and education, infused them into the children's characters,
and imbued their whole early life with a love of his government. The
result was that the main points and fundamentals of his legislation
continued for above five hundred years, like some deep and thoroughly
ingrained tincture, retaining their hold upon the nation. But Numa's
whole design and aim, the continuance of peace and good-will, on his
death vanished with him; no sooner did he expire his last breath than
the gates of Janus's temple flew wide open, and, as if war had, indeed,
been kept and caged up within those walls, it rushed forth to fill all
Italy with blood and slaughter; and thus that best and justest fabric
of things was of no long continuance, because it wanted that cement
which should have kept all together, education. What, then, some may
say, has not Rome been advanced and bettered by her wars? A question
that will need a long answer, if it is to be one to satisfy men who
take the better to consist in riches, luxury, and dominion, rather than
in security, gentleness, and that independence which is accompanied by
justice. However, it makes much for Lycurgus, that, after the Romans
deserted the doctrine and discipline of Numa, their empire grew and
their power increased so much; whereas so soon as the Lacedaemonians
fell from the institutions of Lycurgus, they sank from the highest to
the lowest state, and, after forfeiting their supremacy over the rest
of Greece, were themselves in danger of absolute extirpation. Thus
much, meantime, was peculiarly signal and almost divine in the
circumstances of Numa, that he was an alien, and yet courted to come
and accept a kingdom, the frame of which though he entirely altered,
yet he performed it by mere persuasion, and ruled a city that as yet
had scarce become one city, without recurring to arms or any violence
(such as Lycurgus used, supporting himself by the aid of the nobler
citizens against the commonalty), but, by mere force of wisdom and
justice, established union and harmony amongst all.
SOLON
Didymus, the grammarian, in his answer to Asclepiades concerning
Solon's Tables of Law, mentions a passage of one Philocles, who states
that Solon's father's name was Euphorion, contrary to the opinion of
all others who have written concerning him; for they generally agree
that he was the son of Execestides, a man of moderate wealth and power
in the city, but of a most noble stock, being descended from Codrus;
his mother, as Heraclides Ponticus affirms, was cousin to Pisistratus's
mother, and the two at first were great friends, partly because they
were akin, and partly because of Pisistratus's noble qualities and
beauty. And they say Solon loved him; and that is the reason, I
suppose, that when afterwards they differed about the government, their
enmity never produced any hot and violent passion, they remembered
their old kindnesses, and retained--
Still in its embers living the strong fire
of their love and dear affection. For that Solon was not proof against
beauty, nor of courage to stand up to passion and meet it,
Hand to hand as in the ring--
we may conjecture by his poems, and one of his laws, in which there are
practices forbidden to slaves, which he would appear, therefore, to
recommend to freemen. Pisistratus, it is stated, was similarly attached
to one Charmus; he it was who dedicated the figure of Love in the
Academy, where the runners in the sacred torch-race light their
torches. Solon, as Hermippus writes, when his father had ruined his
estate in doing benefits and kindnesses to other men, though he had
friends enough that were willing to contribute to his relief, yet was
ashamed to be beholden to others, since he was descended from a family
who were accustomed to do kindnesses rather than receive them; and
therefore applied himself to merchandise in his youth; though others
assure us that he traveled rather to get learning and experience than
to make money. It is certain that he was a lover of knowledge, for when
he was old he would say, that he
Each day grew older, and learnt something new,
and yet no admirer of riches, esteeming as equally wealthy the man,--
Who hath both gold and silver in his hand,
Horses and mules, and acres of wheat-land,
And him whose all is decent food to eat,
Clothes to his back and shoes upon his feet,
And a young wife and child, since so 'twill be,
And no more years than will with that agree;--
and in another place,--
Wealth I would have, but wealth by wrong procure
I would not; justice, e'en if slow, is sure.
And it is perfectly possible for a good man and a statesman, without
being solicitous for superfluities, to show some concern for competent
necessaries. In his time, as Hesiod says, --"Work was a shame to none,"
nor was any distinction made with respect to trade, but merchandise was
a noble calling, which brought home the good things which the barbarous
nations enjoyed, was the occasion of friendship with their kings, and a
great source of experience. Some merchants have built great cities, as
Protis, the founder of Massilia, to whom the Gauls near the Rhine were
much attached. Some report also that Thales and Hippocrates the
mathematician traded; and that Plato defrayed the charges of his
travels by selling oil in Egypt. Solon's softness and profuseness, his
popular rather than philosophical tone about pleasure in his poems,
have been ascribed to his trading life; for, having suffered a thousand
dangers, it was natural they should be recompensed with some
gratifications and enjoyments; but that he accounted himself rather
poor than rich is evident from the lines,
Some wicked men are rich, some good are poor,
We will not change our virtue for their store;
Virtue's a thing that none call take away,
But money changes owners all the day.
At first he used his poetry only in trifles, not for any serious
purpose, but simply to pass away his idle hours; but afterwards he
introduced moral sentences and state matters, which he did, not to
record them merely as an historian, but to justify his own actions, and
sometimes to correct, chastise, and stir up the Athenians to noble
performances. Some report that he designed to put his laws into heroic
verse, and that they began thus,--
We humbly beg a blessing on our laws
From mighty Jove, and honor, and applause.
In philosophy, as most of the wise men then, he chiefly esteemed the
political part of morals; in physics, he was very plain and antiquated,
as appears by this,--
It is the clouds that make the snow and hail,
And thunder comes from lightning without fail;
The sea is stormy when the winds have blown,
But it deals fairly when 'tis left alone.
And, indeed, it is probable that at that time Thales alone had raised
philosophy above mere practice into speculation; and the rest of the
wise men were so called from prudence in political concerns. It is
said, that they had an interview at Delphi, and another at Corinth, by
the procurement of Periander, who made a meeting for them, and a
supper. But their reputation was chiefly raised by sending the tripod
to them all, by their modest refusal, and complaisant yielding to one
another. For, as the story goes, some of the Coans fishing with a net,
some strangers, Milesians, bought the draught at a venture; the net
brought up a golden tripod, which, they say, Helen, at her return from
Troy, upon the remembrance of an old prophecy, threw in there. Now, the
strangers at first contesting with the fishers about the tripod, and
the cities espousing the quarrel so far as to engage themselves in a
war, Apollo decided the controversy by commanding to present it to the
wisest man; and first it was sent to Miletus to Thales, the Coans
freely presenting him with that for which they fought against the whole
body of the Milesians; but, Thales declaring Bias the wiser person, it
was sent to him; from him to another; and so, going round them all, it
came to Thales a second time; and, at last, being carried from Miletus
to Thebes, was there dedicated to Apollo Ismenius. Theophrastus writes
that it was first presented to Bias at Priene; and next to Thales at
Miletus, and so through all it returned to Bias, and was afterwards
sent to Delphi. This is the general report, only some, instead of a
tripod, say this present was a cup sent by Croesus; others, a piece of
plate that one Bathycles had left. It is stated, that Anacharsis and
Solon, and Solon and Thales, were familiarly acquainted, and some have
delivered parts of their discourse; for, they say, Anacharsis, coming
to Athens, knocked at Solon's door, and told him, that he, being a
stranger, was come to be his guest, and contract a friendship with him;
and Solon replying, "It is better to make friends at home," Anacharsis
replied, "Then you that are at home make friendship with me." Solon,
somewhat surprised at the readiness of the repartee, received him
kindly, and kept him some time with him, being already engaged in
public business and the compilation of his laws; which when Anacharsis
understood, he laughed at him for imagining the dishonesty and
covetousness of his countrymen could be restrained by written laws,
which were like spiders' webs, and would catch, it is true, the weak
and poor, but easily be broken by the mighty and rich. To this Solon
rejoined that men keep their promises when neither side can get
anything by the breaking of them; and he would so fit his laws to the
citizens, that all should understand it was more eligible to be just
than to break the laws. But the event rather agreed with the conjecture
of Anacharsis than Solon's hope. Anacharsis, being once at the
assembly, expressed his wonder at the fact that in Greece wise men
spoke and fools decided.
Solon went, they say, to Thales at Miletus, and wondered that Thales
took no care to get him a wife and children. To this, Thales made no
answer for the present; but, a few days after, procured a stranger to
pretend that he had left Athens ten days ago; and Solon inquiring what
news there, the man, according to his instructions, replied, "None but
a young man's funeral, which the whole city attended; for he was the
son, they said, of an honorable man, the most virtuous of the citizens,
who was not then at home, but had been traveling a long time." Solon
replied, "What a miserable man is he! But what was his name?" "I have
heard it," says the man, "but have now forgotten it, only there was
great talk of his wisdom and his justice." Thus Solon was drawn on by
every answer, and his fears heightened, till at last, being extremely
concerned, he mentioned his own name, and asked the stranger if that
young man was called Solon's son; and the stranger assenting, he began
to beat his head, and to do and say all that is usual with men in
transports of grief. But Thales took his hand, and, with a smile, said,
"These things, Solon, keep me from marriage and rearing children, which
are too great for even your constancy to support; however, be not
concerned at the report, for it is a fiction." This Hermippus relates,
from Pataecus, who boasted that he had Aesop's soul.
However, it is irrational and poor-spirited not to seek conveniences
for fear of losing them, for upon the same account we should not allow
ourselves to like wealth, glory, or wisdom, since we may fear to be
deprived of all these; nay, even virtue itself, than which there is no
greater nor more desirable possession, is often suspended by sickness
or drugs. Now Thales, though unmarried, could not be free from
solicitude, unless he likewise felt no care for his friends, his
kinsmen, or his country; yet we are told he adopted Cybisthus, his
sister's son. For the soul, having a principle of kindness in itself,
and being born to love, as well as perceive, think, or remember,
inclines and fixes upon some stranger, when a man has none of his own
to embrace. And alien or illegitimate objects insinuate themselves into
his affections, as into some estate that lacks lawful heirs; and with
affection come anxiety and care; insomuch that you may see men that use
the strongest language against the marriage-bed and the fruit of it,
when some servant's or concubine's child is sick or dies, almost killed
with grief, and abjectly lamenting. Some have given way to shameful and
desperate sorrow at the loss of a dog or horse; others have borne the
deaths of virtuous children without any extravagant or unbecoming
grief; have passed the rest of their lives like men, and according to
the principles of reason. It is not affection, it is weakness, that
brings men, unarmed against fortune by reason, into these endless pains
and terrors; and they indeed have not even the present enjoyment of
what they dote upon, the possibility of the future loss causing them
continual pangs, tremors, and distresses. We must not provide against
the loss of wealth by poverty, or of friends by refusing all
acquaintance, or of children by having none, but by morality and
reason. But of this too much.
Now, when the Athenians were tired with a tedious and difficult war
that they conducted against the Megarians for the island Salamis, and
made a law that it should be death for any man, by writing or speaking,
to assert that the city ought to endeavor to recover it, Solon, vexed
at the disgrace, and perceiving thousands of the youth wished for
somebody to begin, but did not dare to stir first for fear of the law,
counterfeited a distraction, and by his own family it was spread about
the city that he was mad. He then secretly composed some elegiac
verses, and getting them by heart, that it might seem extempore, ran
out into the place with a cap upon his head, and, the people gathering
about him, got upon the herald's stand, and sang that elegy which
begins thus:--
I am a herald come from Salamis the fair,
My news from thence my verses shall declare.
The poem is called Salamis, it contains one hundred verses, very
elegantly written; when it had been sung, his friends commended it, and
especially Pisistratus exhorted the citizens to obey his directions;
insomuch that they recalled the law, and renewed the war under Solon's
conduct. The popular tale is, that with Pisistratus he sailed to
Colias, and, finding the women, according to the custom of the country
there, sacrificing to Ceres, he sent a trusty friend to Salamis, who
should pretend himself a renegade, and advise them, if they desired to
seize the chief Athenian women, to come with him at once to Colias; the
Megarians presently sent of men in the vessel with him; and Solon,
seeing it put off from the island, commanded the women to be gone, and
some beardless youths, dressed in their clothes, their shoes, and caps,
and privately armed with daggers, to dance and play near the shore till
the enemies had landed and the vessel was in their power. Things being
thus ordered, the Megarians were allured with the appearance, and,
coming to the shore, jumped out, eager who should first seize a prize,
so that not one of them escaped; and the Athenians set sail for the
island and took it.
Others say that it was not taken this way, but that he first received
this oracle from Delphi:
Those heroes that in fair Asopia rest, All buried with their faces to
the west, Go and appease with offerings of the best;
and that Solon, sailing by night to the island, sacrificed to the
heroes Periphemus and Cychreus, and then, taking five hundred Athenian
volunteers (a law having passed that those that took the island should
be highest in the government), with a number of fisher-boats and one
thirty-oared ship, anchored in a bay of Salamis that looks towards
Nisaea; and the Megarians that were then in the island, hearing only an
uncertain report, hurried to their arms, and sent a ship to reconnoiter
the enemies. This ship Solon took, and, securing the Megarians, manned
it with Athenians, and gave them orders to sail to the island with as
much privacy as possible; meantime he, with the other soldiers, marched
against the Megarians by land, and whilst they were fighting, those
from the ship took the city. And this narrative is confirmed by the
following solemnity, that was afterwards observed: an Athenian ship
used to sail silently at first to the island, then, with noise and a
great shout, one leapt out armed, and with a loud cry ran to the
promontory Sciradium to meet those that approached upon the land. And
just by there stands a temple which Solon dedicated to Mars. For he
beat the Megarians, and as many as were not killed in the battle he
sent away upon conditions.
The Megarians, however, still contending, and both sides having
received considerable losses, they chose the Spartans for arbitrators.
Now, many affirm that Homer's authority did Solon a considerable
kindness, and that, introducing a line into the Catalog of Ships, when
the matter was to be determined, he read the passage as follows:
Twelve ships from Salamis stout Ajax brought, And ranked his men where
the Athenians fought.
The Athenians, however, call this but an idle story, and report, that
Solon made it appear to the judges, that Philaeus and Eurysaces, the
sons of Ajax, being made citizens of Athens, gave them the island, and
that one of them dwelt at Brauron in Attica, the other at Melite; and
they have a township of Philaidae, to which Pisistratus belonged,
deriving its name from this Philaeus. Solon took a farther argument
against the Megarians from the dead bodies, which, he said, were not
buried after their fashion but according to the Athenian; for the
Megarians turn the corpse to the east, the Athenians to the west. But
Hereas the Megarian denies this, and affirms that they likewise turn
the body to the west, and also that the Athenians have a separate tomb
for every body, but the Megarians put two or three into one. However,
some of Apollo's oracles, where he calls Salamis Ionian, made much for
Solon. This matter was determined by five Spartans, Critolaidas,
Amompharetus, Hypsechidas, Anaxilas, and Cleomenes.
For this, Solon grew famed and powerful; but his advice in favor of
defending the oracle at Delphi, to give aid, and not to suffer the
Cirrhaeans to profane it, but to maintain the honor of the god, got him
most repute among the Greeks: for upon his persuasion the Amphictyons
undertook the war, as, amongst others, Aristotle affirms, in his
enumeration of the victors at the Pythian games, where he makes Solon
the author of this counsel. Solon, however, was not general in that
expedition, as Hermippus states, out of Evanthes the Samian; for
Aeschines the orator says no such thing, and, in the Delphian register,
Alcmaeon, not Solon, is named as commander of the Athenians.
Now the Cylonian pollution had a long while disturbed the commonwealth,
ever since the time when Megacles the archon persuaded the conspirators
with Cylon that took sanctuary in Minerva's temple to come down and
stand to a fair trial. And they, tying a thread to the image, and
holding one end of it, went down to the tribunal; but when they came to
the temple of the Furies, the thread broke of its own accord, upon
which, as if the goddess had refused them protection, they were seized
by Megacles and the other magistrates; as many as were without the
temples were stoned, those that fled for sanctuary were butchered at
the altar, and only those escaped who made supplication to the wives of
the magistrates. But they from that time were considered under
pollution, and regarded with hatred. The remainder of the faction of
Cylon grew strong again, and had continual quarrels with the family of
Megacles; and now the quarrel being at its height, and the people
divided, Solon, being in reputation, interposed with the chiefest of
the Athenians, and by entreaty and admonition persuaded the polluted to
submit to a trial and the decision of three hundred noble citizens. And
Myron of Phlya being their accuser, they were found guilty, and as many
as were then alive were banished, and the bodies of the dead were dug
up, and scattered beyond the confines of the country. In the midst of
these distractions, the Megarians falling upon them, they lost Nisaea
and Salamis again; besides, the city was disturbed with superstitious
fears and strange appearances, and the priests declared that the
sacrifices intimated some villanies and pollutions that were to be
expiated. Upon this, they sent for Epimenides the Phaestian from Crete,
who is counted the seventh wise man by those that will not admit
Periander into the number. He seems to have been thought a favorite of
heaven, possessed of knowledge in all the supernatural and ritual parts
of religion; and, therefore, the men of his age called him a new Cures,
and son of a nymph named Balte. When he came to Athens, and grew
acquainted with Solon, he served him in many instances, and prepared
the way for his legislation. He made them moderate in their forms of
worship, and abated their mourning by ordering some sacrifices
presently after the funeral, and taking off those severe and barbarous
ceremonies which the women usually practiced; but the greatest benefit
was his purifying and sanctifying the city, by certain propitiatory and
expiatory lustrations, and foundation of sacred buildings; by that
means making them more submissive to justice, and more inclined to
harmony. It is reported that, looking upon Munychia, and considering a
long while, he said to those that stood by, "How blind is man in future
things! for did the Athenians foresee what mischief this would do their
city, they would even eat it with their own teeth to be rid of it." A
similar anticipation is ascribed to Thales; they say he commanded his
friends to bury him in an obscure and contemned quarter of the
territory of Miletus, saying that it should some day be the marketplace
of the Milesians. Epimenides, being much honored, and receiving from
the city rich offers of large gifts and privileges, requested but one
branch of the sacred olive, and, on that being granted, returned.
The Athenians, now the Cylonian sedition was over and the polluted gone
into banishment, fell into their old quarrels about the government,
there being as many different parties as there were diversities in the
country. The Hill quarter favored democracy, the Plain, oligarchy, and
those that lived by the Sea-side stood for a mixed sort of government,
and so hindered either of the other parties from prevailing. And the
disparity of fortune between the rich and the poor, at that time, also
reached its height; so that the city seemed to be in a truly dangerous
condition, and no other means for freeing it from disturbances and
settling it, to be possible but a despotic power. All the people were
indebted to the rich; and either they tilled their land for their
creditors, paying them a sixth part of the increase, and were,
therefore, called Hectemorii and Thetes, or else they engaged their
body for the debt, and might be seized, and either sent into slavery at
home, or sold to strangers; some (for no law forbade it) were forced to
sell their children, or fly their country to avoid the cruelty of their
creditors; but the most part and the bravest of them began to combine
together and encourage one another to stand to it, to choose a leader,
to liberate the condemned debtors, divide the land, and change the
government.
Then the wisest of the Athenians, perceiving Solon was of all men the
only one not implicated in the troubles, that he had not joined in the
exactions of the rich, and was not involved in the necessities of the
poor, pressed him to succor the commonwealth and compose the
differences. Though Phanias the Lesbian affirms, that Solon, to save
his country, put a trick upon both parties, and privately promised the
poor a division of the lands, and the rich, security for their debts.
Solon, however, himself, says that it was reluctantly at first that he
engaged in state affairs, being afraid of the pride of one party and
the greediness of the other; he was chosen archon, however, after
Philombrotus, and empowered to be an arbitrator and lawgiver; the rich
consenting because he was wealthy, the poor because he was honest.
There was a saying of his current before the election, that when things
are even there never can be war, and this pleased both parties, the
wealthy and the poor; the one conceiving him to mean, when all have
their fair proportion; the others, when all are absolutely equal. Thus,
there being great hopes on both sides, the chief men pressed Solon to
take the government into his own hands, and, when he was once settled,
manage the business freely and according to his pleasure; and many of
the commons, perceiving it would be a difficult change to be effected
by law and reason, were willing to have one wise and just man set over
the affairs; and some say that Solon had this oracle from Apollo--
Take the mid-seat, and be the vessel's guide;
Many in Athens are upon your side.
But chiefly his familiar friends chid him for disaffecting monarchy
only because of the name, as if the virtue of the ruler could not make
it a lawful form; Euboea had made this experiment when it chose
Tynnondas, and Mitylene, which had made Pittacus its prince; yet this
could not shake Solon's resolution; but, as they say, he replied to his
friends, that it was true a tyranny was a very fair spot, but it had no
way down from it; and in a copy of verses to Phocus he writes.--
--that I spared my land,
And withheld from usurpation and from violence my hand,
And forbore to fix a stain and a disgrace on my good name,
I regret not; I believe that it will be my chiefest fame.
From which it is manifest that he was a man of great reputation before
he gave his laws. The several mocks that were put upon him for refusing
the power, he records in these words,--
Solon surely was a dreamer, and a man of simple mind;
When the gods would give him fortune, he of his own will declined;
When the net was full of fishes, over-heavy thinking it,
He declined to haul it up, through want of heart and want of wit.
Had but I that chance of riches and of kingship, for one day,
I would give my skin for flaying, and my house to die away.
Thus he makes the many and the low people speak of him. Yet, though he
refused the government, he was not too mild in the affair; he did not
show himself mean and submissive to the powerful, nor make his laws to
pleasure those that chose him. For where it was well before, he applied
no remedy, nor altered anything, for fear lest,
Overthrowing altogether and disordering the state,
he should be too weak to new-model and recompose it to a tolerable
condition; but what he thought he could effect by persuasion upon the
pliable, and by force upon the stubborn, this he did, as he himself
says,
With force and justice working both one.
And, therefore, when he was afterwards asked if he had left the
Athenians the best laws that could be given, he replied, "The best they
could receive." The way which, the moderns say, the Athenians have of
softening the badness of a thing, by ingeniously giving it some pretty
and innocent appellation, calling harlots, for example, mistresses,
tributes customs, a garrison a guard, and the jail the chamber, seems
originally to have been Solon's contrivance, who called canceling debts
Seisacthea, a relief, or disencumbrance. For the first thing which he
settled was, that what debts remained should be forgiven, and no man,
for the future, should engage the body of his debtor for security.
Though some, as Androtion, affirm that the debts were not canceled, but
the interest only lessened, which sufficiently pleased the people; so
that they named this benefit the Seisacthea, together with the
enlarging their measures, and raising the value of their money; for he
made a pound, which before passed for seventy-three drachmas, go for a
hundred; so that, though the number of pieces in the payment was equal,
the value was less; which proved a considerable benefit to those that
were to discharge great debts, and no loss to the creditors. But most
agree that it was the taking off the debts that was called Seisacthea,
which is confirmed by some places in his poem, where he takes honor to
himself, that
The mortgage-stones that covered her, by me Removed, --the land that
was a slave is free;
that some who had been seized for their debts he had brought back from
other countries, where
--so far their lot to roam, They had forgot the language of their home;
and some he had set at liberty,--
Who here in shameful servitude were held.
While he was designing this, a most vexatious thing happened; for when
he had resolved to take off the debts, and was considering the proper
form and fit beginning for it, he told some of his friends, Conon,
Clinias, and Hipponicus, in whom he had a great deal of confidence,
that he would not meddle with the lands, but only free the people from
their debts; upon which, they, using their advantage, made haste and
borrowed some considerable sums of money, and purchased some large
farms; and when the law was enacted, they kept the possessions, and
would not return the money; which brought Solon into great suspicion
and dislike, as if he himself had not been abused, but was concerned in
the contrivance. But he presently stopped this suspicion, by releasing
his debtors of five talents (for he had lent so much), according to the
law; others, as Polyzelus the Rhodian, say fifteen; his friends,
however, were ever afterward called Chreocopidae, repudiators.
In this he pleased neither party, for the rich were angry for their
money, and the poor that the land was not divided, and, as Lycurgus
ordered in his commonwealth, all men reduced to equality. He, it is
true, being the eleventh from Hercules, and having reigned many years
in Lacedaemon, had got a great reputation and friends and power, which
he could use in modeling his state; and, applying force more than
persuasion, insomuch that he lost his eye in the scuffle, was able to
employ the most effectual means for the safety and harmony of a state,
by not permitting any to be poor or rich in his commonwealth. Solon
could not rise to that in his polity, being but a citizen of the middle
classes; yet he acted fully up to the height of his power, having
nothing but the good-will and good opinion of his citizens to rely on;
and that he offended the most part, who looked for another result, he
declares in the words,
Formerly they boasted of me vainly; with averted eyes
Now they look askance upon me; friends no more, but enemies.
And yet had any other man, he says, received the same power,
He would not have forborne, nor let alone,
But made the fattest of the milk his own.
Soon, however, becoming sensible of the good that was done, they laid
by their grudges, made a public sacrifice, calling it Seisacthea, and
chose Solon to new-model and make laws for the commonwealth, giving him
the entire power over everything, their magistracies, their assemblies,
courts, and councils; that he should appoint the number, times of
meeting, and what estate they must have that could be capable of these,
and dissolve or continue any of the present constitutions, according to
his pleasure.
First, then, he repealed all Draco's laws, except those concerning
homicide, because they were too severe, and the punishments too great;
for death was appointed for almost all offenses, insomuch that those
that were convicted of idleness were to die, and those that stole a
cabbage or an apple to suffer even as villains that committed sacrilege
or murder. So that Demades, in after time, was thought to have said
very happily, that Draco's laws were written not with ink, but blood;
and he himself, being once asked why he made death the punishment of
most offenses, replied, "Small ones deserve that, and I have no higher
for the greater crimes."
Next, Solon, being willing to continue the magistracies in the hands of
the rich men, and yet receive the people into the other part of the
government, took an account of the citizens' estates, and those that
were worth five hundred measures of fruits, dry and liquid, he placed
in the first rank, calling them Pentacosiomedimni; those that could
keep an horse, or were worth three hundred measures, were named Hippada
Teluntes, and made the second class; the Zeugitae, that had two hundred
measures, were in the third; and all the others were called Thetes, who
were not admitted to any office, but could come to the assembly, and
act as jurors; which at first seemed nothing, but afterwards was found
an enormous privilege, as almost every matter of dispute came before
them in this latter capacity. Even in the cases which he assigned to
the archons' cognizance, he allowed an appeal to the courts. Besides,
it is said that he was obscure and ambiguous in the wording of his
laws, on purpose to increase the honor of his courts; for since their
differences could not be adjusted by the letter, they would have to
bring all their causes to the judges, who thus were in a manner masters
of the laws. Of this equalization he himself makes mention in this
manner:
Such power I gave the people as might do, Abridged not what they had,
now lavished new. Those that were great in wealth and high in place, My
counsel likewise kept from all disgrace. Before them both I held my
shield of might, And let not either touch the other's right.
And for the greater security of the weak commons, he gave general
liberty of indicting for an act of injury; if any one was beaten,
maimed, or suffered any violence, any man that would and was able,
might prosecute the wrongdoer; intending by this to accustom the
citizens, like members of the same body, to resent and be sensible of
one another's injuries. And there is a saying of his agreeable to this
law, for, being asked what city was best modeled, "That," said he,
"where those that are not injured try and punish the unjust as much as
those that are."
When he had constituted the Areopagus of those who had been yearly
archons, of which he himself was a member therefore, observing that the
people, now free from their debts, were unsettled and imperious, he
formed another council of four hundred, a hundred out of each of the
four tribes, which was to inspect all matters before they were
propounded to the people, and to take care that nothing but what had
been first examined should be brought before the general assembly. The
upper council, or Areopagus, he made inspectors and keepers of the
laws, conceiving that the commonwealth, held by these two councils,
like anchors, would be less liable to be tossed by tumults, and the
people be more at quiet. Such is the general statement, that Solon
instituted the Areopagus; which seems to be confirmed, because Draco
makes no mention of the Areopagites, but in all causes of blood refers
to the Ephetae; yet Solon's thirteenth table contains the eighth law
set down in these very words: "Whoever before Solon's archonship were
disfranchised, let them be restored, except those that, being condemned
by the Areopagus, Ephetae, or in the Prytaneum by the kings, for
homicide, murder, or designs against the government, were in banishment
when this law was made;" and these words seem to show that the
Areopagus existed before Solon's laws, for who could be condemned by
that council before his time, if he was the first that instituted the
court? unless, which is probable, there is some ellipsis, or want of
precision, in the language, and it should run thus, -- "Those that are
convicted of such offenses as belong to the cognizance of the
Areopagites, Ephetae, or the Prytanes, when this law was made," shall
remain still in disgrace, whilst others are restored; of this the
reader must judge.
Amongst his other laws, one is very peculiar and surprising, which
disfranchises all who stand neuter in a sedition; for it seems he would
not have any one remain insensible and regardless of the public good,
and, securing his private affairs, glory that he has no feeling of the
distempers of his country; but at once join with the good party and
those that have the right upon their side, assist and venture with
them, rather than keep out of harm's way and watch who would get the
better. It seems an absurd and foolish law which permits an heiress, if
her lawful husband fail her, to take his nearest kinsman; yet some say
this law was well contrived against those, who, conscious of their own
unfitness, yet, for the sake of the portion, would match with
heiresses, and make use of law to put a violence upon nature; for now,
since she can quit him for whom she pleases, they would either abstain
from such marriages, or continue them with disgrace, and suffer for
their covetousness and designed affront; it is well done, moreover, to
confine her to her husband's nearest kinsman, that the children may be
of the same family. Agreeable to this is the law that the bride and
bridegroom shall be shut into a chamber, and eat a quince together; and
that the husband of an heiress shall consort with her thrice a month;
for though there be no children, yet it is an honor and due affection
which an husband ought to pay to a virtuous, chaste wife; it takes off
all petty differences, and will not permit their little quarrels to
proceed to a rupture.
In all other marriages he forbade dowries to be given; the wife was to
have three suits of clothes, a little inconsiderable household stuff,
and that was all; for he would not have marriages contracted for gain
or an estate, but for pure love, kind affection, and birth of children.
When the mother of Dionysius desired him to marry her to one of his
citizens, "Indeed," said he, "by my tyranny I have broken my country's
laws, but cannot put a violence upon those of nature by an unseasonable
marriage." Such disorder is never to be suffered in a commonwealth, nor
such unseasonable and unloving and unperforming marriages, which attain
no due end or fruit; any provident governor or lawgiver might say to an
old man that takes a young wife what is said to Philoctetes in the
tragedy,--
Truly, in a fit state thou to marry!
and if he finds a young man, with a rich and elderly wife, growing fat
in his place, like the partridges, remove him to a young woman of
proper age. And of this enough.
Another commendable law of Solon's is that which forbids men to speak
evil of the dead; for it is pious to think the deceased sacred, and
just, not to meddle with those that are gone, and politic, to prevent
the perpetuity of discord. He likewise forbade them to speak evil of
the living in the temples, the courts of justice, the public offices,
or at the games, or else to pay three drachmas to the person, and two
to the public. For never to be able to control passion shows a weak
nature and ill-breeding; and always to moderate it is very hard, and to
some impossible. And laws must look to possibilities, if the maker
designs to punish few in order to their amendment, and not many to no
purpose.
He is likewise much commended for his law concerning wills; for before
him none could be made, but all the wealth and estate of the deceased
belonged to his family; but he, by permitting them, if they had no
children, to bestow it on whom they pleased, showed that he esteemed
friendship a stronger tie than kindred, and affection than necessity;
and made every man's estate truly his own. Yet he allowed not all sorts
of legacies, but those only which were not extorted by the frenzy of a
disease, charms, imprisonment, force, or the persuasions of a wife;
with good reason thinking that being seduced into wrong was as bad as
being forced, and that between deceit and necessity, flattery and
compulsion, there was little difference, since both may equally suspend
the exercise of reason.
He regulated the walks, feasts, and mourning of the women, and took
away everything that was either unbecoming or immodest; when they
walked abroad, no more than three articles of dress were allowed them;
an obol's worth of meat and drink; and no basket above a cubit high;
and at night they were not to go about unless in a chariot with a torch
before them. Mourners tearing themselves to raise pity, and set
wailings, and at one man's funeral to lament for another, he forbade.
To offer an ox at the grave was not permitted, nor to bury above three
pieces of dress with the body, or visit the tombs of any besides their
own family, unless at the very funeral; most of which are likewise
forbidden by our laws,@ but this is further added in ours, that those
that are convicted of extravagance in their mournings, are to be
punished as soft and effeminate by the censors of women.
Observing the city to be filled with persons that flocked from all
parts into Attica for security of living, and that most of the country
was barren and unfruitful, and that traders at sea import nothing to
those that could give them nothing in exchange, he turned his citizens
to trade, and made a law that no son should be obliged to relieve a
father who had not bred him up to any calling. It is true, Lycurgus,
having a city free from all strangers, and land, according to Euripides,
Large for large hosts, for twice their number much,
and, above all, an abundance of laborers about Sparta, who should not
be left idle, but be kept down with continual toil and work, did well
to take off his citizens from laborious and mechanical occupations, and
keep them to their arms, and teach them only the art of war. But Solon,
fitting his laws to the state of things, and not making things to suit
his laws, and finding the ground scarce rich enough to maintain the
husbandmen, and altogether incapable of feeding an unoccupied and
leisurely multitude, brought trades into credit, and ordered the
Areopagites to examine how every man got his living, and chastise the
idle. But that law was yet more rigid which, as Heraclides Ponticus
delivers, declared the sons of unmarried mothers not obliged to relieve
their fathers; for he that avoids the honorable form of union shows
that he does not take a woman for children, but for pleasure, and thus
gets his just reward, and has taken away from himself every title to
upbraid his children, to whom he has made their very birth a scandal
and reproach.
Solon's laws in general about women are his strangest; for he permitted
any one to kill an adulterer that found him in the act; but if any one
forced a free woman, a hundred drachmas was the fine; if he enticed
her, twenty; except those that sell themselves openly, that is,
harlots, who go openly to those that hire them. He made it unlawful to
sell a daughter or a sister, unless, being yet unmarried, she was found
wanton. Now it is irrational to punish the same crime sometimes very
severely and without remorse, and sometimes very lightly, and, as it
were, in sport, with a trivial fine; unless, there being little money
then in Athens, scarcity made those mulcts the more grievous
punishment. In the valuation for sacrifices, a sheep and a bushel were
both estimated at a drachma; the victor in the Isthmian games was to
have for reward a hundred drachmas; the conqueror in the Olympian, five
hundred; he that brought a wolf, five drachmas; for a whelp, one; the
former sum, as Demetrius the Phalerian asserts, was the value of an ox,
the latter, of a sheep. The prices which Solon, in his sixteenth table,
sets on choice victims, were naturally far greater; yet they, too, are
very low in comparison of the present. The Athenians were, from the
beginning, great enemies to wolves, their fields being better for
pasture than corn. Some affirm their tribes did not take their names
from the sons of Ion, but from the different sorts of occupation that
they followed; the soldiers were called Hoplitae, the craftsmen
Ergades, and, of the remaining two, the farmers Gedeontes, and the
shepherds and graziers Aegicores.
Since the country has but few rivers, lakes, or large springs, and many
used wells which they had dug, there was a law made, that, where there
was a public well within a hippicon, that is, four furlongs, all should
draw at that; but, when it was farther off, they should try and procure
a well of their own; and, if they had dug ten fathom deep and could
find no water, they had liberty to fetch a pitcherful of four gallons
and a half in a day from their neighbors'; for he thought it prudent to
make provision against want, but not to supply laziness. He showed
skill in his orders about planting, for any one that would plant
another tree was not to set it within five feet of his neighbor's
field; but if a fig or an olive, not within nine; for their roots
spread farther, nor can they be planted near all sorts of trees without
damage, for they draw away the nourishment, and in some cases are
noxious by their effluvia. He that would dig a pit or a ditch was to
dig it at the distance of its own depth from his neighbor's ground; and
he that would raise stocks of bees was not to place them within three
hundred feet of those which another had already raised.
He permitted only oil to be exported, and those that exported any other
fruit, the archon was solemnly to curse, or else pay an hundred
drachmas himself; and this law was written in his first table, and,
therefore, let none think it incredible, as some affirm, that the
exportation of figs was once unlawful, and the informer against the
delinquents called a sycophant. He made a law, also, concerning hurts
and injuries from beasts, in which he commands the master of any dog
that bit a man to deliver him up with a log about his neck, four and a
half feet long; a happy device for men's security. The law concerning
naturalizing strangers is of doubtful character; he permitted only
those to be made free of Athens who were in perpetual exile from their
own country, or came with their whole family to trade there; this he
did, not to discourage strangers, but rather to invite them to a
permanent participation in the privileges of the government; and,
besides, he thought those would prove the more faithful citizens who
had been forced from their own country, or voluntarily forsook it. The
law of public entertainment (parasitein is his name for it) is, also,
peculiarly Solon's, for if any man came often, or if he that was
invited refused, they were punished, for he concluded that one was
greedy, the other a contemner of the state.
All his laws he established for an hundred years, and wrote them on
wooden tables or rollers, named axones, which might be turned round in
oblong cases; some of their relics were in my time still to be seen in
the Prytaneum, or common hall, at Athens. These, as Aristotle states,
were called cyrbes, and there is a passage of Cratinus the comedian,
By Solon, and by Draco, if you please,
Whose Cyrbes make the fires that parch our peas.
But some say those are properly cyrbes, which contain laws concerning
sacrifices and the rites of religion, and all the others axones. The
council all jointly swore to confirm the laws, and every one of the
Thesmothetae vowed for himself at the stone in the marketplace, that,
if he broke any of the statutes, he would dedicate a golden statue, as
big as himself, at Delphi.
Observing the irregularity of the months, and that the moon does not
always rise and set with the sun, but often in the same day overtakes
and gets before him, he ordered the day should be named the Old and
New, attributing that part of it which was before the conjunction to
the old moon, and the rest to the new, he being the first, it seems,
that understood that verse of Homer,
The end and the beginning of the month,
and the following day he called the new moon. After the twentieth he
did not count by addition, but, like the moon itself in its wane, by
subtraction; thus up to the thirtieth.
Now when these laws were enacted, and some came to Solon every day, to
commend or dispraise them, and to advise, if possible, to leave out, or
put in something, and many criticized, and desired him to explain, and
tell the meaning of such and such a passage, he, knowing that to do it
was useless, and not to do it would get him ill-will, and desirous to
bring himself out of all straits, and to escape all displeasure and
exceptions, it being a hard thing, as he himself says,
In great affairs to satisfy all sides,
as an excuse for traveling, bought a trading vessel, and, having
obtained leave for ten years' absence, departed, hoping that by that
time his laws would have become familiar.
His first voyage was for Egypt, and he lived, as he himself says,
Near Nilus' mouth, by fair Canopus' shore,
and spent some time in study with Psenophis of Heliopolis, and Sonchis
the Saite, the most learned of all the priests; from whom, as Plato
says, getting knowledge of the Atlantic story, he put it into a poem,
and proposed to bring it to the knowledge of the Greeks. From thence he
sailed to Cyprus, where he was made much of by Philocyprus, one of the
kings there, who had a small city built by Demophon, Theseus's son,
near the river Clarius, in a strong situation, but incommodious and
uneasy of access. Solon persuaded him, since there lay a fair plain
below, to remove, and build there a pleasanter and more spacious city.
And he stayed himself, and assisted in gathering inhabitants, and in
fitting it both for defense and convenience of living; insomuch that
many flocked to Philocyprus, and the other kings imitated the design;
and, therefore, to honor Solon, he called the city Soli, which was
formerly named Aepea. And Solon himself, in his Elegies, addressing
Philocyprus, mentions this foundation in these words--
Long may you live, and fill the Solian throne,
Succeeded still by children of your own;
And from your happy island while I sail,
Let Cyprus send for me a favoring gale;
May she advance, and bless your new command,
Prosper your town, and send me safe to land.
That Solon should discourse with Croesus, some think not agreeable with
chronology; but I cannot reject so famous and well-attested a
narrative, and, what is more, so agreeable to Solon's temper, and so
worthy his wisdom and greatness of mind, because, forsooth, it does not
agree with some chronological canons, which thousands have endeavored
to regulate, and yet, to this day, could never bring their differing
opinions to any agreement. They say, therefore, that Solon, coming to
Croesus at his request, was in the same condition as an inland man when
first he goes to see the sea; for as he fancies every river he meets
with to be the ocean, so Solon, as he passed through the court, and saw
a great many nobles richly dressed, and proudly attended with a
multitude of guards and footboys, thought every one had been the king,
till he was brought to Croesus, who was decked with every possible
rarity and curiosity, in ornaments of jewels, purple, and gold, that
could make a grand and gorgeous spectacle of him. Now when Solon came
before him, and seemed not at all surprised, nor gave Croesus those
compliments he expected, but showed himself to all discerning eyes to
be a man that despised the gaudiness and petty ostentation of it, he
commanded them to open all his treasure houses, and carry him to see
his sumptuous furniture and luxuries though he did not wish it; Solon
could judge of him well enough by the first sight of him; and, when he
returned from viewing all, Croesus asked him if ever he had known a
happier man than he. And when Solon answered that he had known one
Tellus, a fellow-citizen of his own, and told him that this Tellus had
been an honest man, had had good children, a competent estate, and died
bravely in battle for his country, Croesus took him for an ill-bred
fellow and a fool, for not measuring happiness by the abundance of gold
and silver, and preferring the life and death of a private and mean man
before so much power and empire. He asked him, however, again, if,
besides Tellus, he knew any other man more happy. And Solon replying,
Yes, Cleobis and Biton, who were loving brothers, and extremely dutiful
sons to their mother, and, when the oxen delayed her, harnessed
themselves to the wagon, and drew her to Juno's temple, her neighbors
all calling her happy, and she herself rejoicing; then, after
sacrificing and feasting, they went to rest, and never rose again, but
died in the midst of their honor a painless and tranquil death, "What,"
said Croesus, angrily, "and dost not thou reckon us amongst the happy
men at all?" Solon, unwilling either to flatter or exasperate him more,
replied, "The gods, O king, have given the Greeks all other gifts in
moderate degree; and so our wisdom, too, is a cheerful and a homely,
not a noble and kingly wisdom; and this, observing the numerous
misfortunes that attend all conditions, forbids us to grow insolent
upon our present enjoyments, or to admire any man's happiness that may
yet, in course of time, suffer change. For the uncertain future has yet
to come, with every possible variety of fortune; and him only to whom
the divinity has continued happiness unto the end, we call happy; to
salute as happy one that is still in the midst of life and hazard, we
think as little safe and conclusive as to crown and proclaim as
victorious the wrestler that is yet in the ring." After this, he was
dismissed, having given Croesus some pain, but no instruction.
Aesop, who wrote the fables, being then at Sardis upon Croesus's
invitation, and very much esteemed, was concerned that Solon was so
ill- received, and gave him this advice: "Solon, let your converse with
kings be either short or seasonable." "Nay, rather," replied Solon,
"either short or reasonable." So at this time Croesus despised Solon;
but when he was overcome by Cyrus, had lost his city, was taken alive,
condemned to be burnt, and laid bound upon the pile before all the
Persians and Cyrus himself, he cried out as loud as possibly he could
three times, "O Solon!" and Cyrus being surprised, and sending some to
inquire what man or god this Solon was, whom alone he invoked in this
extremity, Croesus told him the whole story, saying, "He was one of the
wise men of Greece, whom I sent for, not to be instructed, or to learn
any thing that I wanted, but that he should see and be a witness of my
happiness; the loss of which was, it seems, to be a greater evil than
the enjoyment was a good; for when I had them they were goods only in
opinion, but now the loss of them has brought upon me intolerable and
real evils. And he, conjecturing from what then was, this that now is,
bade me look to the end of my life, and not rely and grow proud upon
uncertainties." When this was told Cyrus, who was a wiser man than
Croesus, and saw in the present example Solon's maxim confirmed, he not
only freed Croesus from punishment, but honored him as long as he
lived; and Solon had the glory, by the same saying, to save one king
and instruct another.
When Solon was gone, the citizens began to quarrel; Lycurgus headed the
Plain; Megacles, the son of Alcmaeon, those to the Sea-side; and
Pisistratus the Hill-party, in which were the poorest people, the
Thetes, and greatest enemies to the rich; insomuch that, though the
city still used the new laws, yet all looked for and desired a change
of government, hoping severally that the change would be better for
them, and put them above the contrary faction. Affairs standing thus,
Solon returned, and was reverenced by all, and honored; but his old age
would not permit him to be as active, and to speak in public, as
formerly; yet, by privately conferring with the heads of the factions,
he endeavored to compose the differences, Pisistratus appearing the
most tractable; for he was extremely smooth and engaging in his
language, a great friend to the poor, and moderate in his resentments;
and what nature had not given him, he had the skill to imitate; so that
he was trusted more than the others, being accounted a prudent and
orderly man, one that loved equality, and would be an enemy to any that
moved against the present settlement. Thus he deceived the majority of
people; but Solon quickly discovered his character, and found out his
design before any one else; yet did not hate him upon this, but
endeavored to humble him, and bring him off from his ambition, and
often told him and others, that if any one could banish the passion for
preeminence from his mind, and cure him of his desire of absolute
power, none would make a more virtuous man or a more excellent citizen.
Thespis, at this time, beginning to act tragedies, and the thing,
because it was new, taking very much with the multitude, though it was
not yet made a matter of competition, Solon, being by nature fond of
hearing and learning something new, and now, in his old age, living
idly, and enjoying himself, indeed, with music and with wine, went to
see Thespis himself, as the ancient custom was, act; and after the play
was done, he addressed him, and asked him if he was not ashamed to tell
so many lies before such a number of people; and Thespis replying that
it was no harm to say or do so in play, Solon vehemently struck his
staff against the ground: "Ay," said he, "if we honor and commend such
play as this, we shall find it some day in our business."
Now when Pisistratus, having wounded himself, was brought into the
marketplace in a chariot, and stirred up the people, as if he had been
thus treated by his opponents because of his political conduct, and a
great many were enraged and cried out, Solon, coming close to him,
said, "This, O son of Hippocrates, is a bad copy of Homer's Ulysses;
you do, to trick your countrymen, what he did to deceive his enemies."
After this, the people were eager to protect Pisistratus, and met in an
assembly, where one Ariston making a motion that they should allow
Pisistratus fifty clubmen for a guard to his person, Solon opposed it,
and said, much to the same purport as what he has left us in his poems,
You dote upon his words and taking phrase;
and again,--
True, you are singly each a crafty soul,
But all together make one empty fool.
But observing the poor men bent to gratify Pisistratus, and tumultuous,
and the rich fearful and getting out of harm's way, he departed, saying
he was wiser than some and stouter than others; wiser than those that
did not understand the design, stouter than those that, though they
understood it, were afraid to oppose the tyranny. Now, the people,
having passed the law, were not nice with Pisistratus about the number
of his clubmen, but took no notice of it, though he enlisted and kept
as many as he would, until he seized the Acropolis. When that was done,
and the city in an uproar, Megacles, with all his family, at once fled;
but Solon, though he was now very old, and had none to back him, yet
came into the marketplace and made a speech to the citizens, partly
blaming their inadvertency and meanness of spirit, and in part urging
and exhorting them not thus tamely to lose their liberty; and likewise
then spoke that memorable saying, that, before, it was an easier task
to stop the rising tyranny, but now the greater and more glorious
action to destroy it, when it was begun already, and had gathered
strength. But all being afraid to side with him, he returned home, and,
taking his arms, he brought them out and laid them in the porch before
his door, with these words: "I have done my part to maintain my country
and my laws," and then he busied himself no more. His friends advising
him to fly, he refused; but wrote poems, and thus reproached the
Athenians in them,--
If now you suffer, do not blame the Powers,
For they are good, and all the fault was ours.
All the strongholds you put into his hands,
And now his slaves must do what he commands.
And many telling him that the tyrant would take his life for this, and
asking what he trusted to, that he ventured to speak so boldly, he
replied, "To my old age." But Pisistratus, having got the command, so
extremely courted Solon, so honored him, obliged him, and sent to see
him, that Solon gave him his advice, and approved many of his actions;
for he retained most of Solon's laws, observed them himself, and
compelled his friends to obey. And he himself, though already absolute
ruler, being accused of murder before the Areopagus, came quietly to
clear himself; but his accuser did not appear. And he added other laws,
one of which is that the maimed in the wars should be maintained at the
public charge; this Heraclides Ponticus records, and that Pisistratus
followed Solon's example in this, who had decreed it in the case of one
Thersippus, that was maimed; and Theophrastus asserts that it was
Pisistratus, not Solon, that made that law against laziness, which was
the reason that the country was more productive, and the city
tranquiller.
Now Solon, having begun the great work in verse, the history or fable
of the Atlantic Island, which he had learned from the wise men in Sais,
and thought convenient for the Athenians to know, abandoned it; not, as
Plato says, by reason of want of time, but because of his age, and
being discouraged at the greatness of the task; for that he had leisure
enough, such verses testify, as
Each day grow older, and learn something new
and again,--
But now the Powers of Beauty, Song, and Wine,
Which are most men's delights, are also mine.
Plato, willing to improve the story of the Atlantic Island, as if it
were a fair estate that wanted an heir and came with some title to him,
formed, indeed, stately entrances, noble enclosures, large courts, such
as never yet introduced any story, fable, or poetic fiction; but,
beginning it late, ended his life before his work; and the reader's
regret for the unfinished part is the greater, as the satisfaction he
takes in that which is complete is extraordinary. For as the city of
Athens left only the temple of Jupiter Olympius unfinished, so Plato,
amongst all his excellent works, left this only piece about the
Atlantic Island imperfect. Solon lived after Pisistratus seized the
government, as Heraclides Ponticus asserts, a long time; but Phanias
the Eresian says not two full years; for Pisistratus began his tyranny
when Comias was archon, and Phanias says Solon died under Hegestratus,
who succeeded Comias. The story that his ashes were scattered about the
island Salamis is too strange to be easily believed, or be thought
anything but a mere fable; and yet it is given, amongst other good
authors, by Aristotle, the philosopher.
POPLICOLA
Such was Solon. To him we compare Poplicola, who received this later
title from the Roman people for his merit, as a noble accession to his
former name, Publius Valerius. He descended from Valerius, a man
amongst the early citizens, reputed the principal reconciler of the
differences betwixt the Romans and Sabines, and one that was most
instrumental in persuading their kings to assent to peace and union.
Thus descended, Publius Valerius, as it is said, whilst Rome remained
under its kingly government, obtained as great a name from his
eloquence as from his riches, charitably employing the one in liberal
aid to the poor, the other with integrity and freedom in the service of
justice; thereby giving assurance, that, should the government fall
into a republic, he would become a chief man in the community. The
illegal and wicked accession of Tarquinius Superbus to the crown, with
his making it, instead of kingly rule, the instrument of insolence and
tyranny, having inspired the people with a hatred to his reign, upon
the death of Lucretia (she killing herself after violence had been done
to her), they took an occasion of revolt; and Lucius Brutus, engaging
in the change, came to Valerius before all others, and, with his
zealous assistance, deposed the kings. And whilst the people inclined
towards the electing one leader instead of their king, Valerius
acquiesced, that to rule was rather Brutus's due, as the author of the
democracy. But when the name of monarchy was odious to the people, and
a divided power appeared more grateful in the prospect, and two were
chosen to hold it, Valerius, entertaining hopes that he might be
elected consul with Brutus, was disappointed; for, instead of Valerius,
notwithstanding the endeavors of Brutus, Tarquinius Collatinus was
chosen, the husband of Lucretia, a man noways his superior in merit.
But the nobles, dreading the return of their kings, who still used all
endeavors abroad and solicitations at home, were resolved upon a
chieftain of an intense hatred to them, and noways likely to yield.
Now Valerius was troubled, that his desire to serve his country should
be doubted, because he had sustained no private injury from the
insolence of the tyrants. He withdrew from the senate and practice of
the bar, quitting all public concerns; which gave an occasion of
discourse, and fear, too, lest his anger should reconcile him to the
king's side, and he should prove the ruin of the state, tottering as
yet under the uncertainties of a change. But Brutus being doubtful of
some others, and determining to give the test to the senate upon the
altars, upon the day appointed Valerius came with cheerfulness into the
forum, and was the first man that took the oath, in no way to submit or
yield to Tarquin's propositions, but rigorously to maintain liberty;
which gave great satisfaction to the senate and assurance to the
consuls, his actions soon after showing the sincerity of his oath. For
ambassadors came from Tarquin, with popular and specious proposals,
whereby they thought to seduce the people, as though the king had cast
off all insolence, and made moderation the only measure of his desires.
To this embassy the consuls thought fit to give public audience, but
Valerius opposed it, and would not permit that the poorer people, who
entertained more fear of war than of tyranny, should have any occasion
offered them, or any temptations to new designs. Afterwards other
ambassadors arrived, who declared their king would recede from his
crown, and lay down his arms, only capitulating for a restitution to
himself, his friends, and allies, of their moneys and estates to
support them in their banishment. Now, several inclining to the
request, and Collatinus in particular favoring it, Brutus, a man of
vehement and unbending nature, rushed into the forum, there proclaiming
his fellow- consul to be a traitor, in granting subsidies to tyranny,
and supplies for a war to those to whom it was monstrous to allow so
much as subsistence in exile. This caused an assembly of the citizens,
amongst whom the first that spake was Caius Minucius, a private man,
who advised Brutus, and urged the Romans to keep the property, and
employ it against the tyrants, rather than to remit it to the tyrants,
to be used against themselves. The Romans, however, decided that whilst
they enjoyed the liberty they had fought for, they should not sacrifice
peace for the sake of money, but send out the tyrants' property after
them. This question, however, of his property, was the least part of
Tarquin's design; the demand sounded the feelings of the people, and
was preparatory to a conspiracy which the ambassadors endeavored to
excite, delaying their return, under pretense of selling some of the
goods and reserving others to be sent away, till, in fine, they
corrupted two of the most eminent families in Rome, the Aquillian,
which had three, and the Vitellian, which had two senators. These all
were, by the mother's side, nephews to Collatinus; besides which Brutus
had a special alliance to the Vitellii from his marriage with their
sister, by whom he had several children; two of whom, of their own age,
their near relations and daily companions, the Vitellii seduced to join
in the plot, to ally themselves to the great house and royal hopes of
the Tarquins, and gain emancipation from the violence and imbecility
united of their father, whose austerity to offenders they termed
violence, while the imbecility which he had long feigned, to protect
himself from the tyrants, still, it appears, was, in name at least,
ascribed to him. When upon these inducements the youths came to confer
with the Aquillii, all thought it convenient to bind themselves in a
solemn and dreadful oath, by tasting the blood of a murdered man, and
touching his entrails. For which design they met at the house of the
Aquillii. The building chosen for the transaction was, as was natural,
dark and unfrequented, and a slave named Vindicius had, as it chanced,
concealed himself there, not out of design or any intelligence of the
affair, but, accidentally being within, seeing with how much haste and
concern they came in, he was afraid to be discovered, and placed
himself behind a chest, where he was able to observe their actions and
overhear their debates. Their resolutions were to kill the consuls, and
they wrote letters to Tarquin to this effect, and gave them to the
ambassadors, who were lodging upon the spot with the Aquillii, and were
present at the consultation.
Upon their departure, Vindicius secretly quitted the house, but was at
a loss what to do in the matter, for to arraign the sons before the
father Brutus, or the nephews before the uncle Collatinus, seemed
equally (as indeed it was) shocking; yet he knew no private Roman to
whom he could entrust secrets of such importance. Unable, however, to
keep silence, and burdened with his knowledge, he went and addressed
himself to Valerius, whose known freedom and kindness of temper were an
inducement; as he was a person to whom the needy had easy access, and
who never shut his gates against the petitions or indigences of humble
people. But when Vindicius came and made a complete discovery to him,
his brother Marcus and his own wife being present, Valerius was struck
with amazement, and by no means would dismiss the discoverer, but
confined him to the room, and placed his wife as a guard to the door,
sending his brother in the interim to beset the king's palace, and
seize, if possible, the writings there, and secure the domestics,
whilst he, with his constant attendance of clients and friends, and a
great retinue of attendants, repaired to the house of the Aquillii, who
were, as it chanced, absent from home; and so, forcing an entrance
through the gates, they lit upon the letters then lying in the lodgings
of the ambassadors. Meantime the Aquillii returned in all haste, and,
coming to blows about the gate, endeavored a recovery of the letters.
The other party made a resistance, and, throwing their gowns round
their opponents' necks, at last, after much struggling on both sides,
made their way with their prisoners through the streets into the forum.
The like engagement happened about the king's palace, where Marcus
seized some other letters which it was designed should be conveyed away
in the goods, and, laying hands on such of the king's people as he
could find, dragged them also into the forum. When the consuls had
quieted the tumult, Vindicius was brought out by the orders of
Valerius, and the accusation stated, and the letters were opened, to
which the traitors could make no plea. Most of the people standing mute
and sorrowful, some only, out of kindness to Brutus, mentioning
banishment, the tears of Collatinus, attended with Valerius's silence,
gave some hopes of mercy. But Brutus, calling his two sons by their
names, "Canst not thou," said he, "O Titus, or thou, Tiberius, make any
defense against the indictment?" The question being thrice proposed,
and no reply made, he turned himself to the lictors, and cried, "What
remains is your duty." They immediately seized the youths, and,
stripping them of their clothes, bound their hands behind them, and
scourged their bodies with their rods; too tragical a scene for others
to look at; Brutus, however, is said not to have turned aside his face,
nor allowed the least glance of pity to soften and smooth his aspect of
rigor and austerity; but sternly watched his children suffer, even till
the lictors, extending them on the ground, cut off their heads with an
axe; then departed, committing the rest to the judgment of his
colleague. An action truly open alike to the highest commendation and
the strongest censure; for either the greatness of his virtue raised
him above the impressions of sorrow, or the extravagance of his misery
took away all sense of it; but neither seemed common, or the result of
humanity, but either divine or brutish. Yet it is more reasonable that
our judgment should yield to his reputation, than that his merit should
suffer detraction by the weakness of our judgment; in the Romans'
opinion, Brutus did a greater work in the establishment of the
government than Romulus in the foundation of the city.
Upon Brutus's departure out of the forum, consternation, horror, and
silence for some time possessed all that reflected on what was done;
the easiness and tardiness, however, of Collatinus, gave confidence to
the Aquillii to request some time to answer their charge, and that
Vindicius, their servant, should be remitted into their hands, and no
longer harbored amongst their accusers. The consul seemed inclined to
their proposal, and was proceeding to dissolve the assembly; but
Valerius would not suffer Vindicius, who was surrounded by his people,
to be surrendered, nor the meeting to withdraw without punishing the
traitors; and at length laid violent hands upon the Aquillii, and,
calling Brutus to his assistance, exclaimed against the unreasonable
course of Collatinus, to impose upon his colleague the necessity of
taking away the lives of his own sons, and yet have thoughts of
gratifying some women with the lives of traitors and public enemies.
Collatinus, displeased at this, and commanding Vindicius to be taken
away, the lictors made their way through the crowd and seized their
man, and struck all who endeavored a rescue. Valerius's friends headed
the resistance, and the people cried out for Brutus, who, returning, on
silence being made, told them he had been competent to pass sentence by
himself upon his own sons, but left the rest to the suffrages of the
free citizens: "Let every man speak that wishes, and persuade whom he
can." But there was no need of oratory, for, it being referred to the
vote, they were returned condemned by all the suffrages, and were
accordingly beheaded.
Collatinus's relationship to the kings had, indeed, already rendered
him suspicious, and his second name, too, had made him obnoxious to the
people, who were loath to hear the very sound of Tarquin; but after
this had happened, perceiving himself an offense to every one, he
relinquished his charge and departed from the city. At the new
elections in his room, Valerius obtained, with high honor, the
consulship, as a just reward of his zeal; of which he thought Vindicius
deserved a share, whom he made, first of all freedmen, a citizen of
Rome, and gave him the privilege of voting in what tribe soever he was
pleased to be enrolled; other freedmen received the right of suffrage a
long time after from Appius, who thus courted popularity; and from this
Vindicius, a perfect manumission is called to this day vindicta. This
done, the goods of the kings were exposed to plunder, and the palace to
ruin.
The pleasantest part of the field of Mars, which Tarquin had owned, was
devoted to the service of that god; it happening to be harvest season,
and the sheaves yet being on the ground, they thought it not proper to
commit them to the flail, or unsanctify them with any use; and,
therefore, carrying them to the river side, and trees withal that were
cut down, they cast all into the water, dedicating the soil, free from
all occupation, to the deity. Now, these thrown in, one upon another,
and closing together, the stream did not bear them far, but where the
first were carried down and came to a bottom, the remainder, finding no
farther conveyance, were stopped and interwoven one with another; the
stream working the mass into a firmness, and washing down fresh mud.
This, settling there, became an accession of matter, as well as cement,
to the rubbish, insomuch that the violence of the waters could not
remove it, but forced and compressed it all together. Thus its bulk and
solidity gained it new subsidies, which gave it extension enough to
stop on its way most of what the stream brought down. This is now a
sacred island, lying by the city, adorned with temples of the gods, and
walks, and is called in the Latin tongue inter duos pontes. Though some
say this did not happen at the dedication of Tarquin's field, but in
after- times, when Tarquinia, a vestal priestess, gave an adjacent
field to the public, and obtained great honors in consequence, as,
amongst the rest, that of all women her testimony alone should be
received; she had also the liberty to marry, but refused it; thus some
tell the story.
Tarquin, despairing of a return to his kingdom by the conspiracy, found
a kind reception amongst the Tuscans, who, with a great army, proceeded
to restore him. The consuls headed the Romans against them, and made
their rendezvous in certain holy places, the one called the Arsian
grove, the other the Aesuvian meadow. When they came into action,
Aruns, the son of Tarquin, and Brutus, the Roman consul, not
accidentally encountering each other, but out of hatred and rage, the
one to avenge tyranny and enmity to his country, the other his
banishment, set spurs to their horses, and, engaging with more fury
than forethought, disregarding their own security, fell together in the
combat. This dreadful onset hardly was followed by a more favorable
end; both armies, doing and receiving equal damage, were separated by a
storm. Valerius was much concerned, not knowing what the result of the
day was, and seeing his men as well dismayed at the sight of their own
dead, as rejoiced at the loss of the enemy; so apparently equal in the
number was the slaughter on either side. Each party, however, felt
surer of defeat from the actual sight of their own dead, than they
could feel of victory from conjecture about those of their adversaries.
The night being come (and such as one may presume must follow such a
battle), and the armies laid to rest, they say that the grove shook,
and uttered a voice, saying that the Tuscans had lost one man more than
the Romans; clearly a divine announcement; and the Romans at once
received it with shouts and expressions of joy; whilst the Tuscans,
through fear and amazement, deserted their tents, and were for the most
part dispersed. The Romans, falling upon the remainder, amounting to
nearly five thousand, took them prisoners, and plundered the camp; when
they numbered the dead, they found on the Tuscans' side eleven thousand
and three hundred, exceeding their own loss but by one man. This fight
happened upon the last day of February, and Valerius triumphed in honor
of it, being the first consul that drove in with a four-horse chariot;
which sight both appeared magnificent, and was received with an
admiration free from envy or offense (as some suggest) on the part of
the spectators; it would not otherwise have been continued with so much
eagerness and emulation through all the after ages. The people
applauded likewise the honors he did to his colleague, in adding to his
obsequies a funeral oration; which was so much liked by the Romans, and
found so good a reception, that it became customary for the best men to
celebrate the funerals of great citizens with speeches in their
commendation; and their antiquity in Rome is affirmed to be greater
than in Greece, unless, with the orator Anaximenes, we make Solon the
first author.
Yet some part of Valerius's behavior did give offense and disgust to
the people, because Brutus, whom they esteemed the father of their
liberty, had not presumed to rule without a colleague, but united one
and then another to him in his commission; while Valerius, they said,
centering all authority in himself, seemed not in any sense a successor
to Brutus in the consulship, but to Tarquin in the tyranny; he might
make verbal harangues to Brutus's memory, yet, when he was attended
with all the rods and axes, proceeding down from a house than which the
king's house that he had demolished had not been statelier, those
actions showed him an imitator of Tarquin. For, indeed, his dwelling
house on the Velia was somewhat imposing in appearance, hanging over
the forum, and overlooking all transactions there; the access to it was
hard, and to see him far of coming down, a stately and royal spectacle.
But Valerius showed how well it were for men in power and great offices
to have ears that give admittance to truth before flattery; for upon
his friends telling him that he displeased the people, he contended
not, neither resented it, but while it was still night, sending for a
number of workpeople, pulled down his house and leveled it with the
ground; so that in the morning the people, seeing and flocking
together, expressed their wonder and their respect for his magnanimity,
and their sorrow, as though it had been a human being, for the large
and beautiful house which was thus lost to them by an unfounded
jealousy, while its owner, their consul, without a roof of his own, had
to beg a lodging with his friends. For his friends received him, till a
place the people gave him was furnished with a house, though less
stately than his own, where now stands the temple, as it is called, of
Vica Pota.
He resolved to render the government, as well as himself, instead of
terrible, familiar and pleasant to the people, and parted the axes from
the rods, and always, upon his entrance into the assembly, lowered
these also to the people, to show, in the strongest way, the republican
foundation of the government; and this the consuls observe to this day.
But the humility of the man was but a means, not, as they thought, of
lessening himself, but merely to abate their envy by this moderation;
for whatever he detracted from his authority he added to his real
power, the people still submitting with satisfaction, which they
expressed by calling him Poplicola, or people-lover, which name had the
preeminence of the rest, and, therefore, in the sequel of this
narrative we shall use no other.
He gave free leave to any to sue for the consulship; but before the
admittance of a colleague, mistrusting the chances, lest emulation or
ignorance should cross his designs, by his sole authority enacted his
best and most important measures. First, he supplied the vacancies of
the senators, whom either Tarquin long before had put to death, or the
war lately cut off; those that he enrolled, they write, amounted to a
hundred and sixty-four; afterwards he made several laws which added
much to the people's liberty, in particular one granting offenders the
liberty of appealing to the people from the judgment of the consuls; a
second, that made it death to usurp any magistracy without the people's
consent; a third, for the relief of poor citizens, which, taking off
their taxes, encouraged their labors; another, against disobedience to
the consuls, which was no less popular than the rest, and rather to the
benefit of the commonalty than to the advantage of the nobles, for it
imposed upon disobedience the penalty of ten oxen and two sheep; the
price of a sheep being ten obols, of an ox, a hundred. For the use of
money was then infrequent amongst the Romans, but their wealth in
cattle great; even now pieces of property are called peculia, from
pecus, cattle; and they had stamped upon their most ancient money an
ox, a sheep, or a hog; and surnamed their sons Suillii, Bubulci,
Caprarii, and Porcii, from caprae, goats, and porci, hogs.
Amidst this mildness and moderation, for one excessive fault he
instituted one excessive punishment; for he made it lawful without
trial to take away any man's life that aspired to a tyranny, and
acquitted the slayer, if he produced evidence of the crime; for though
it was not probable for a man, whose designs were so great, to escape
all notice; yet because it was possible he might, although observed, by
force anticipate judgment, which the usurpation itself would then
preclude, he gave a license to any to anticipate the usurper. He was
honored likewise for the law touching the treasury; for because it was
necessary for the citizens to contribute out of their estates to the
maintenance of wars, and he was unwilling himself to be concerned in
the care of it, or to permit his friends, or indeed to let the public
money pass into any private house, he allotted the temple of Saturn for
the treasury, in which to this day they deposit the tribute-money, and
granted the people the liberty of choosing two young men as quaestors,
or treasurers. The first were Publius Veturius and Marcus Minucius; and
a large sum was collected, for they assessed one hundred and thirty
thousand, excusing orphans and widows from the payment. After these
dispositions, he admitted Lucretius, the father of Lucretia, as his
colleague, and gave him the precedence in the government, by resigning
the fasces to him, as due to his years, which privilege of seniority
continued to our time. But within a few days Lucretius died, and in a
new election Marcus Horatius succeeded in that honor, and continued
consul for the remainder of the year.
Now, whilst Tarquin was making preparations in Tuscany for a second war
against the Romans, it is said a great portent occurred. When Tarquin
was king, and had all but completed the buildings of the Capitol,
designing, whether from oracular advice or his own pleasure, to erect
an earthen chariot upon the top, he entrusted the workmanship to
Tuscans of the city Veii, but soon after lost his kingdom. The work
thus modeled, the Tuscans set in a furnace, but the clay showed not
those passive qualities which usually attend its nature, to subside and
be condensed upon the evaporation of the moisture, but rose and swelled
out to that bulk, that, when solid and firm, notwithstanding the
removal of the roof and opening the walls of the furnace, it could not
be taken out without much difficulty. The soothsayers looked upon this
as a divine prognostic of success and power to those that should
possess it; and the Tuscans resolved not to deliver it to the Romans,
who demanded it, but answered that it rather belonged to Tarquin than
to those who had sent him into exile. A few days after, they had a
horse-race there, with the usual shows and solemnities, and as the
charioteer, with his garland on his head, was quietly driving the
victorious chariot out of the ring, the horses, upon no apparent
occasion, taking fright, either by divine instigation or by accident,
hurried away their driver at full speed to Rome; neither did his
holding them in prevail, nor his voice, but he was forced along with
violence till, coming to the Capitol, he was thrown out by the gate
called Ratumena. This occurrence raised wonder and fear in the
Veientines, who now permitted the delivery of the chariot.
The building of the temple of the Capitoline Jupiter had been vowed by
Tarquin, the son of Demaratus, when warring with the Sabines;
Tarquinius Superbus, his son or grandson, built, but could not dedicate
it, because he lost his kindom before it was quite finished. And now
that it was completed with all its ornaments, Poplicola was ambitious
to dedicate it; but the nobility envied him that honor, as, indeed,
also, in some degree, those his prudence in making laws and conduct in
wars entitled him to. Grudging him, at any rate, the addition of this,
they urged Horatius to sue for the dedication and, whilst Poplicola was
engaged in some military expedition, voted it to Horatius, and
conducted him to the Capitol, as though, were Poplicola present, they
could not have carried it. Yet, some write, Poplicola was by lot
destined against his will to the expedition, the other to the
dedication; and what happened in the performance seems to intimate some
ground for this conjecture; for, upon the Ides of September, which
happens about the full moon of the month Metagitnion, the people having
assembled at the Capitol and silence being enjoined, Horatius, after
the performance of other ceremonies, holding the doors, according to
custom, was proceeding to pronounce the words of dedication, when
Marcus, the brother of Poplicola, who had got a place on purpose
beforehand near the door, observing his opportunity, cried, "O consul,
thy son lies dead in the camp;" which made a great impression upon all
others who heard it, yet in nowise discomposed Horatius, who returned
merely the reply, "Cast the dead out whither you please; I am not a
mourner;" and so completed the dedication. The news was not true, but
Marcus thought the lie might avert him from his performance; but it
argues him a man of wonderful self-possession, whether he at once saw
through the cheat, or, believing it as true, showed no discomposure.
The same fortune attended the dedication of the second temple; the
first, as has been said, was built by Tarquin and dedicated by
Horatius; it was burnt down in the civil wars. The second, Sylla built,
and, dying before the dedication, left that honor to Catulus; and when
this was demolished in the Vitellian sedition, Vespasian, with the same
success that attended him in other things, began a third, and lived to
see it finished, but did not live to see it again destroyed, as it
presently was; but was as fortunate in dying before its destruction, as
Sylla was the reverse in dying before the dedication of his. For
immediately after Vespasian's death it was consumed by fire. The
fourth, which now exists, was both built and dedicated by Domitian. It
is said Tarquin expended forty thousand pounds of silver in the very
foundations; but the whole wealth of the richest private man in Rome
would not discharge the cost of the gilding of this temple in our days,
it amounting to above twelve thousand talents; the pillars were cut out
of Pentelican marble, of a length most happily proportioned to their
thickness; these we saw at Athens; but when they were cut anew at Rome
and polished, they did not gain so much in embellishment, as they lost
in symmetry, being rendered too taper and slender. Should any one who
wonders at the costliness of the Capitol visit any one gallery in
Domitian's palace, or hall, or bath, or the apartments of his
concubines, Epicharmus's remark upon the prodigal, that
'Tis not beneficence, but, truth to say,
A mere disease of giving things away,
would be in his mouth in application to Domitian. It is neither piety,
he would say, nor magnificence, but, indeed, a mere disease of
building, and a desire, like Midas, of converting every thing into gold
or stone. And thus much for this matter.
Tarquin, after the great battle wherein he lost his son in combat with
Brutus, fled to Clusium, and sought aid from Lars Porsenna, then one of
the most powerful princes of Italy, and a man of worth and generosity;
who assured him of assistance, immediately sending his commands to Rome
that they should receive Tarquin as their king, and, upon the Romans'
refusal, proclaimed war, and, having signified the time and place where
he intended his attack, approached with a great army. Poplicola was, in
his absence, chosen consul a second time, and Titus Lucretius his
colleague, and, returning to Rome, to show a spirit yet loftier than
Porsenna's, built the city Sigliuria when Porsenna was already in the
neighborhood; and, walling it at great expense, there placed a colony
of seven hundred men, as being little concerned at the war.
Nevertheless, Porsenna, making a sharp assault, obliged the defendants
to retire to Rome, who had almost in their entrance admitted the enemy
into the city with them; only Poplicola by sallying out at the gate
prevented them, and, joining battle by Tiber side, opposed the enemy,
that pressed on with their multitude, but at last, sinking under
desperate wounds, was carried out of the fight. The same fortune fell
upon Lucretius, so that the Romans, being dismayed, retreated into the
city for their security, and Rome was in great hazard of being taken,
the enemy forcing their way on to the wooden bridge, where Horatius
Cocles, seconded by two of the first men in Rome, Herminius and
Lartius, made head against them. Horatius obtained this name from the
loss of one of his eyes in the wars, or, as others write, from the
depressure of his nose, which, leaving nothing in the middle to
separate them, made both eyes appear but as one; and hence, intending
to say Cyclops, by a mispronunciation they called him Cocles. This
Cocles kept the bridge, and held back the enemy, till his own party
broke it down behind, and then with his armor dropped into the river,
and swam to the hither side, with a wound in his hip from a Tuscan
spear. Poplicola, admiring his courage, proposed at once that the
Romans should every one make him a present of a day's provisions, and
afterwards gave him as much land as he could plow round in one day, and
besides erected a brazen statue to his honor in the temple of Vulcan,
as a requital for the lameness caused by his wound.
But Porsenna laying close siege to the city, and a famine raging
amongst the Romans, also a new army of the Tuscans making incursions
into the country, Poplicola, a third time chosen consul, designed to
make, without sallying out, his defense against Porsenna, but,
privately stealing forth against the new army of the Tuscans, put them
to flight, and slew five thousand. The story of Mucius is variously
given; we, like others, must follow the commonly received statement. He
was a man endowed with every virtue, but most eminent in war; and,
resolving to kill Porsenna, attired himself in the Tuscan habit, and,
using the Tuscan language, came to the camp, and approaching the seat
where the king sat amongst his nobles, but not certainly knowing the
king, and fearful to inquire, drew out his sword, and stabbed one who
he thought had most the appearance of king. Mucius was taken in the
act, and whilst he was under examination, a pan of fire was brought to
the king, who intended to sacrifice; Mucius thrust his right hand into
the flame, and whilst it burnt stood looking at Porsenna with a
steadfast and undaunted countenance; Porsenna at last in admiration
dismissed him, and returned his sword, reaching it from his seat;
Mucius received it in his left hand, which occasioned the name of
Scaevola, left-handed, and said, "I have overcome the terrors of
Porsenna, yet am vanquished by his generosity, and gratitude obliges me
to disclose what no punishment could extort;" and assured him then,
that three hundred Romans, all of the same resolution, lurked about his
camp, only waiting for an opportunity; he, by lot appointed to the
enterprise, was not sorry that he had miscarried in it, because so
brave and good a man deserved rather to be a friend to the Romans than
an enemy. To this Porsenna gave credit, and thereupon expressed an
inclination to a truce, not, I presume, so much out of fear of the
three hundred Romans, as in admiration of the Roman courage. All other
writers call this man Mucius Scaevola, yet Athenodorus, son of Sandon,
in a book addressed to Octavia, Caesar's sister, avers he was also
called Postumus.
Poplicola, not so much esteeming Porsenna's enmity dangerous to Rome as
his friendship and alliance serviceable, was induced to refer the
controversy with Tarquin to his arbitration, and several times
undertook to prove Tarquin the worst of men, and justly deprived of his
kingdom. But Tarquin proudly replied he would admit no judge, much less
Porsenna, that had fallen away from his engagements; and Porsenna,
resenting this answer, and mistrusting the equity of his cause, moved
also by the solicitations of his son Aruns, who was earnest for the
Roman interest, made a peace on these conditions, that they should
resign the land they had taken from the Tuscans, and restore all
prisoners and receive back their deserters. To confirm the peace, the
Romans gave as hostages ten sons of patrician parents, and as many
daughters, amongst whom was Valeria, the daughter of Poplicola.
Upon these assurances, Porsenna ceased from all acts of hostility, and
the young girls went down to the river to bathe, at that part where the
winding of the bank formed a bay and made the waters stiller and
quieter; and, seeing no guard, nor any one coming or going over, they
were encouraged to swim over, notwithstanding the depth and violence of
the stream. Some affirm that one of them, by name Cloelia, passing over
on horseback, persuaded the rest to swim after; but, upon their safe
arrival, presenting themselves to Poplicola, he neither praised nor
approved their return, but was concerned lest he should appear less
faithful than Porsenna, and this boldness in the maidens should argue
treachery in the Romans; so that, apprehending them, he sent them back
to Porsenna. But Tarquin's men, having intelligence of this, laid a
strong ambuscade on the other side for those that conducted them; and
while these were skirmishing together, Valeria, the daughter of
Poplicola, rushed through the enemy and fled, and with the assistance
of three of her attendants made good her escape, whilst the rest were
dangerously hedged in by the soldiers; but Aruns, Porsenna's son, upon
tidings of it, hastened to their rescue, and, putting the enemy to
flight, delivered the Romans. When Porsenna saw the maidens returned,
demanding who was the author and adviser of the act, and understanding
Cloelia to be the person, he looked on her with a cheerful and
benignant countenance, and, commanding one of his horses to be brought,
sumptuously adorned, made her a present of it. This is produced as
evidence by those who affirm that only Cloelia passed the river or.
horseback; those who deny it call it only the honor the Tuscan did to
her courage; a figure, however, on horseback stands in the Via Sacra,
as you go to the Palatium, which some say is the statue of Cloelia,
others of Valeria. Porsenna, thus reconciled to the Romans, gave them a
fresh instance of his generosity, and commanded his soldiers to quit
the camp merely with their arms, leaving their tents, full of corn and
other stores, as a gift to the Romans. Hence, even down to our time,
when there is a public sale of goods, they cry Porsenna's first, by way
of perpetual commemoration of his kindness. There stood, also, by the
senate-house, a brazen statue of him, of plain and antique workmanship.
Afterwards, the Sabines making incursions upon the Romans, Marcus
Valerius, brother to Poplicola, was made consul, and with him Postumius
Tubertus. Marcus, through the management of affairs by the conduct and
direct assistance of Poplicola, obtained two great victories, in the
latter of which he slew thirteen thousand Sabines without the loss of
one Roman, and was honored, as all accession to his triumph, with an
house built in the Palatium at the public charge; and whereas the doors
of other houses opened inward into the house, they made this to open
outward into the street, to intimate their perpetual public recognition
of his merit by thus continually making way for him. The same fashion
in their doors the Greeks, they say, had of old universally, which
appears from their comedies, where those that are going out make a
noise at the door within, to give notice to those that pass by or stand
near the door, that the opening the door into the street might occasion
no surprisal.
The year after, Poplicola was made consul the fourth time, when a
confederacy of the Sabines and Latins threatened a war; a superstitious
fear also overran the city on the occasion of general miscarriages of
their women, no single birth coming to its due time. Poplicola, upon
consultation of the Sibylline books, sacrificing to Pluto, and renewing
certain games commanded by Apollo, restored the city to more cheerful
assurance in the gods, and then prepared against the menaces of men.
There were appearances of treat preparation, and of a formidable
confederacy. Amongst the Sabines there was one Appius Clausus, a man of
a great wealth and strength of body, but most eminent for his high
character and for his eloquence; yet, as is usually the fate of great
men, he could not escape the envy of others, which was much occasioned
by his dissuading the war, and seeming to promote the Roman interest,
with a view, it was thought, to obtaining absolute power in his own
country for himself. Knowing how welcome these reports would be to the
multitude, and how offensive to the army and the abettors of the war,
he was afraid to stand a trial, but, having a considerable body of
friends and allies to assist him, raised a tumult amongst the Sabines,
which delayed the war. Neither was Poplicola wanting, not only to
understand the grounds of the sedition, but to promote and increase it,
and he dispatched emissaries with instructions to Clausus, that
Poplicola was assured of his goodness and justice, and thought it
indeed unworthy in any man, however injured, to seek revenge upon his
fellow-citizens; yet if he pleased, for his own security, to leave his
enemies and come to Rome, he should be received, both in public and
private, with the honor his merit deserved, and their own glory
required. Appius, seriously weighing the matter, came to the conclusion
that it was the best resource which necessity left him, and advising
with his friends; and they inviting again others in the same manner, he
came to Rome, bringing five thousand families, with their wives and
children; people of the quietest and steadiest temper of all the
Sabines. Poplicola, informed of their approach, received them with all
the kind offices of a friend, and admitted them at once to the
franchise, allotting to every one two acres of land by the river Anio,
but to Clausus twenty-five acres, and gave him a place in the senate; a
commencement of political power which he used so wisely, that he rose
to the highest reputation, was very influential, and left the Claudian
house behind him, inferior to none in Rome.
The departure of these men rendered things quiet amongst the Sabines;
yet the chief of the community would not suffer them to settle into
peace, but resented that Clausus now, by turning deserter, should
disappoint that revenge upon the Romans, which, while at home, he had
unsuccessfully opposed. Coming with a great army, they sat down before
Fidenae, and placed an ambuscade of two thousand men near Rome, in
wooded and hollow spots, with a design that some few horsemen, as soon
as it was day, should go out and ravage the country, commanding them
upon their approach to the town so to retreat as to draw the enemy into
the ambush. Poplicola, however, soon advertised of these designs by
deserters, disposed his forces to their respective charges. Postumius
Balbus, his son-in-law, going out with three thousand men in the
evening, was ordered to take the hills, under which the ambush lay,
there to observe their motions; his colleague, Lucretius, attended with
a body of the lightest and boldest men, was appointed to meet the
Sabine horse; whilst he, with the rest of the army, encompassed the
enemy. And a thick mist rising accidentally, Postumius, early in the
morning, with shouts from the hills, assailed the ambuscade, Lucretius
charged the light-horse, and Poplicola besieged the camp; so that on
all sides defeat and ruin came upon the Sabines, and without any
resistance the Romans killed them in their flight, their very hopes
leading them to their death, for each division, presuming that the
other was safe, gave up all thought of fighting or keeping their
ground; and these quitting the camp to retire to the ambuscade, and the
ambuscade flying; to the camp, fugitives thus met fugitives, and found
those from whom they expected succor as much in need of succor from
themselves. The nearness, however, of the city Fidenae was the
preservation of the Sabines, especially those that fled from the camp;
those that could not gain the city either perished in the field, or
were taken prisoners. This victory, the Romans, though usually
ascribing such success to some god, attributed to the conduct of one
captain; and it was observed to be heard amongst the soldiers, that
Poplicola had delivered their enemies lame and blind, and only not in
chains, to be dispatched by their swords. From the spoil and prisoners
great wealth accrued to the people.
Poplicola, having completed his triumph, and bequeathed the city to the
care of the succeeding consuls, died; thus closing a life which, so far
as human life may be, had been full of all that is good and honorable.
The people, as though they had not duly rewarded his deserts when
alive, but still were in his debt, decreed him a public interment,
every one contributing his quadrans towards the charge; the women,
besides, by private consent, mourned a whole year, a signal mark of
honor to his memory. He was buried, by the people's desire, within the
city, in the part called Velia, where his posterity had likewise
privilege of burial; now, however, none of the family are interred
there, but the body is carried thither and set down, and someone places
a burning torch under it, and immediately takes it away, as an
attestation of the deceased's privilege, and his receding from his
honor; after which the body is removed.
COMPARISON OF POPLICOLA WITH SOLON
There is something singular in the present parallel, which has not
occurred in any other of the lives; that the one should be the imitator
of the other, and the other his best evidence. Upon the survey of
Solon's sentence to Croesus in favor of Tellus's happiness, it seems
more applicable to Poplicola; for Tellus, whose virtuous life and dying
well had gained him the name of the happiest man, yet was never
celebrated in Solon's poems for a good man, nor have his children or
any magistracy of his deserved a memorial; but Poplicola's life was the
most eminent amongst the Romans, as well for the greatness of his
virtue as his power, and also since his death many amongst the
distinguished families, even in our days, the Poplicolae, Messalae, and
Valerii, after a lapse of six hundred years, acknowledge him as the
fountain of their honor. Besides, Tellus, though keeping his post and
fighting like a valiant soldier, was yet slain by his enemies; but
Poplicola, the better fortune, slew his, and saw his country victorious
under his command. And his honors and triumphs brought him, which was
Solon's ambition, to a happy end; the ejaculation which, in his verses
against Mimnermus about the continuance of man's life, he himself made,
Mourned let me die; and may I, when life ends,
Occasion sighs and sorrows to my friends,
is evidence to Poplicola's happiness; his death did not only draw tears
from his friends and acquaintance, but was the object of universal
regret and sorrow through the whole city; the women deplored his loss
as that of a son, brother, or common father. "Wealth I would have,"
said Solon, "but wealth by wrong procure would not," because punishment
would follow. But Poplicola's riches were not only justly his, but he
spent them nobly in doing good to the distressed. So that if Solon was
reputed the wisest man, we must allow Poplicola to be the happiest; for
what Solon wished for as the greatest and most perfect good, this
Poplicola had, and used and enjoyed to his death.
And as Solon may thus be said to have contributed to Poplicola's glory,
so did also Poplicola to his, by his choice of him as his model in the
formation of republican institutions; in reducing, for example, the
excessive powers and assumption of the consulship. Several of his laws,
indeed, he actually transferred to Rome, as his empowering the people
to elect their officers, and allowing offenders the liberty of
appealing to the people, as Solon did to the jurors. He did not,
indeed, create a new senate, as Solon did, but augmented the old to
almost double its number. The appointment of treasurers again, the
quaestors, has a like origin; with the intent that the chief magistrate
should not, if of good character, be withdrawn from greater matters;
or, if bad, have the greater temptation to injustice, by holding both
the government and treasury in his hands. The aversion to tyranny was
stronger in Poplicola; any one who attempted usurpation could, by
Solon's law, only be punished upon conviction; but Poplicola made it
death before a trial. And though Solon justly gloried, that, when
arbitrary power was absolutely offered to him by circumstances, and
when his countrymen would have willingly seen him accept it, he yet
declined it; still Poplicola merited no less, who, receiving a despotic
command, converted it to a popular office, and did not employ the whole
legal power which he held. We must allow, indeed, that Solon was before
Poplicola in observing that
A people always minds its rulers best When it is neither humored nor
oppressed.
The remission of debts was peculiar to Solon; it was his great means
for confirming the citizens' liberty; for a mere law to give all men
equal rights is but useless, if the poor must sacrifice those rights to
their debts, and, in the very seats and sanctuaries of equality, the
courts of justice, the offices of state, and the public discussions, be
more than anywhere at the beck and bidding of the rich. A yet more
extraordinary success was, that, although usually civil violence is
caused by any remission of debts, upon this one occasion this dangerous
but powerful remedy actually put an end to civil violence already
existing, Solon's own private worth and reputation overbalancing all
the ordinary ill- repute and discredit of the change. The beginning of
his government was more glorious, for he was entirely original, and
followed no man's example, and, without the aid of any ally, achieved
his most important measures by his own conduct; yet the close of
Poplicola's life was more happy and desirable, for Solon saw the
dissolution of his own commonwealth, Poplicola's maintained the state
in good order down to the civil wars. Solon, leaving his laws, as soon
as he had made them, engraven in wood, but destitute of a defender,
departed from Athens; whilst Poplicola, remaining, both in and out of
office, labored to establish the government Solon, though he actually
knew of Pisistratus's ambition, yet was not able to suppress it, but
had to yield to usurpation in its infancy; whereas Poplicola utterly
subverted and dissolved a potent monarchy, strongly settled by long
continuance; uniting thus to virtues equal to those, and purposes
identical with those of Solon, the good fortune and the power that
alone could make them effective.
In military exploits, Daimachus of Plataea will not even allow Solon
the conduct of the war against the Megarians, as was before intimated;
but Poplicola was victorious in the most important conflicts, both as a
private soldier and commander. In domestic politics, also, Solon, in
play, as it were, and by counterfeiting madness, induced the enterprise
against Salamis; whereas Poplicola, in the very beginning, exposed
himself to the greatest risk, took arms against Tarquin, detected the
conspiracy, and, being principally concerned both in preventing the
escape of and afterwards punishing the traitors, not only expelled the
tyrants from the city, but extirpated their very hopes. And as, in
cases calling for contest and resistance and manful opposition, he
behaved with courage and resolution, so, in instances where peaceable
language, persuasion, and concession were requisite, he was yet more to
be commended; and succeeded in gaining happily to reconciliation and
friendship, Porsenna, a terrible and invincible enemy. Some may,
perhaps, object, that Solon recovered Salamis, which they had lost, for
the Athenians; whereas Poplicola receded from part of what the Romans
were at that time possessed of; but judgment is to be made of actions
according to the times in which they were performed. The conduct of a
wise politician is ever suited to the present posture of affairs; often
by foregoing a part he saves the whole, and by yielding in a small
matter secures a greater; and so Poplicola, by restoring what the
Romans had lately usurped, saved their undoubted patrimony, and
procured, moreover, the stores of the enemy for those who were only too
thankful to secure their city. Permitting the decision of the
controversy to his adversary, he not only got the victory, but likewise
what he himself would willingly have given to purchase the victory,
Porsenna putting an end to the war, and leaving them all the provision
of his camp, from the sense of the virtue and gallant disposition of
the Romans which their consul had impressed upon him.
THEMISTOCLES
The birth of Themistocles was somewhat too obscure to do him honor. His
father, Neocles, was not of the distinguished people of Athens, but of
the township of Phrearrhi, and of the tribe Leontis; and by his
mother's side, as it is reported, he was base-born.
I am not of the noble Grecian race,
I'm poor Abrotonon, and born in Thrace;
Let the Greek women scorn me, if they please,
I was the mother of Themistocles.
Yet Phanias writes that the mother of Themistocles was not of Thrace,
but of Caria, and that her name was not Abrotonon, but Euterpe; and
Neanthes adds farther that she was of Halicarnassus in Caria. And, as
illegitimate children, including those that were of the half-blood or
had but one parent an Athenian, had to attend at the Cynosarges (a
wrestling-place outside the gates, dedicated to Hercules, who was also
of half-blood amongst the gods, having had a mortal woman for his
mother), Themistocles persuaded several of the young men of high birth
to accompany him to anoint and exercise themselves together at
Cynosarges; an ingenious device for destroying the distinction between
the noble and the base-born, and between those of the whole and those
of the half blood of Athens. However, it is certain that he was related
to the house of the Lycomedae; for Simonides records, that he rebuilt
the chapel of Phlya, belonging to that family, and beautified it with
pictures and other ornaments, after it had been burnt by the Persians.
It is confessed by all that from his youth he was of a vehement and
impetuous nature, of a quick apprehension, and a strong and aspiring
bent for action and great affairs. The holidays and intervals in his
studies he did not spend in play or idleness, as other children, but
would be always inventing or arranging some oration or declamation to
himself, the subject of which was generally the excusing or accusing
his companions, so that his master would often say to him, "You, my
boy, will be nothing small, but great one way or other, for good or
else for bad." He received reluctantly and carelessly instructions
given him to improve his manners and behavior, or to teach him any
pleasing or graceful accomplishment, but whatever was said to improve
him in sagacity, or in management of affairs, he would give attention
to, beyond one of his years, from confidence in his natural capacities
for such things. And thus afterwards, when in company where people
engaged themselves in what are commonly thought the liberal and elegant
amusements, he was obliged to defend himself against the observations
of those who considered themselves highly accomplished, by the somewhat
arrogant retort, that he certainly could not make use of any stringed
instrument, could only, were a small and obscure city put into his
hands, make it great and glorious. Notwithstanding this, Stesimbrotus
says that Themistocles was a hearer of Anaxagoras, and that he studied
natural philosophy under Melissus, contrary to chronology; for Melissus
commanded the Samians in their siege by Pericles, who was much
Themistocles's junior; and with Pericles, also, Anaxagoras was
intimate. They, therefore, might rather be credited, who report, that
Themistocles was an admirer of Mnesiphilus the Phrearrhian, who was
neither rhetorician nor natural philosopher, but a professor of that
which was then called wisdom, consisting in a sort of political
shrewdness and practical sagacity, which had begun and continued,
almost like a sect of philosophy, from Solon; but those who came
afterwards, and mixed it with pleadings and legal artifices, and
transformed the practical part of it into a mere art of speaking and an
exercise of words, were generally called sophists. Themistocles
resorted to Mnesiphilus when he had already embarked in politics.
In the first essays of his youth he was not regular nor happily
balanced; he allowed himself to follow mere natural character, which,
without the control of reason and instruction, is apt to hurry, upon
either side, into sudden and violent courses, and very often to break
away and determine upon the worst; as he afterwards owned himself,
saying, that the wildest colts make the best horses, if they only get
properly trained and broken in. But those who upon this fasten stories
of their own invention, as of his being disowned by his father, and
that his mother died for grief of her son's ill fame, certainly
calumniate him; and there are others who relate, on the contrary, how
that to deter him from public business, and to let him see how the
vulgar behave themselves towards their leaders when they have at last
no farther use of them, his father showed him the old galleys as they
lay forsaken and cast about upon the sea-shore.
Yet it is evident that his mind was early imbued with the keenest
interest in public affairs, and the most passionate ambition for
distinction. Eager from the first to obtain the highest place, he
unhesitatingly accepted the hatred of the most powerful and influential
leaders in the city, but more especially of Aristides, the son of
Lysimachus, who always opposed him. And yet all this great enmity
between them arose, it appears, from a very boyish occasion, both being
attached to the beautiful Stesilaus of Ceos, as Ariston the philosopher
tells us; ever after which, they took opposite sides, and were rivals
in politics. Not but that the incompatibility of their lives and
manners may seem to have increased the difference, for Aristides was of
a mild nature, and of a nobler sort of character, and, in public
matters, acting always with a view, not to glory or popularity, but to
the best interests of the state consistently with safety and honesty,
he was often forced to oppose Themistocles, and interfere against the
increase of his influence, seeing him stirring up the people to all
kinds of enterprises, and introducing various innovations. For it is
said that Themistocles was so transported with the thoughts of glory,
and so inflamed with the passion for great actions, that, though he was
still young when the battle of Marathon was fought against the
Persians, upon the skillful conduct of the general, Miltiades, being
everywhere talked about, he was observed to be thoughtful, and
reserved, alone by him self; he passed the nights without sleep, and
avoided all his usual places of recreation, and to those who wondered
at the change, and inquired the reason of it, he gave the answer, that
"the trophy of Miltiades would not let him sleep." And when others were
of opinion that the battle of Marathon would be an end to the war,
Themistocles thought that it was but the beginning of far greater
conflicts, and for these, to the benefit of all Greece, he kept himself
in continual readiness, and his city also in proper training,
foreseeing from far before what would happen.
And, first of all, the Athenians being accustomed to divide amongst
themselves the revenue proceeding from the silver mines at Laurium, he
was the only man that dared propose to the people that this
distribution should cease, and that with the money ships should be
built to make war against the Aeginetans, who were the most flourishing
people in all Greece, and by the number of their ships held the
sovereignty of the sea; and Themistocles thus was more easily able to
persuade them, avoiding all mention of danger from Darius or the
Persians, who were at a great distance, and their coming very
uncertain, and at that time not much to be feared; but, by a seasonable
employment of the emulation and anger felt by the Athenians against the
Aeginetans, he induced them to preparation. So that with this money a
hundred ships were built, with which they afterwards fought against
Xerxes. And, henceforward, little by little, turning and drawing the
city down towards the sea, in the belief, that, whereas by land they
were not a fit match for their next neighbors, with their ships they
might be able to repel the Persians and command Greece, thus, as Plato
says, from steady soldiers he turned them into mariners and seamen
tossed about the sea, and gave occasion for the reproach against him,
that he took away from the Athenians the spear and the shield, and
bound them to the bench and the oar. These measures he carried in the
assembly, against the opposition, as Stesimbrotus relates, of
Miltiades; and whether or no he hereby injured the purity and true
balance of government, may be a question for philosophers, but that the
deliverance of Greece came at that time from the sea, and that these
galleys restored Athens again after it was destroyed, were others
wanting, Xerxes himself would be sufficient evidence, who, though his
land-forces were still entire, after his defeat at sea, fled away, and
thought himself no longer able to encounter the Greeks; and, as it
seems to me, left Mardonius behind him, not out of any hopes he could
have to bring them into subjection, but to hinder them from pursuing
him.
Themistocles is said to have been eager in the acquisition of riches,
according to some, that he might be the more liberal; for loving to
sacrifice often, and to be splendid in his entertainment of strangers,
he required a plentiful revenue; yet he is accused by others of having
been parsimonious and sordid to that degree that he would sell
provisions which were sent to him as a present. He desired Diphilides,
who was a breeder of horses, to give him a colt, and when he refused
it, threatened that in a short time he would turn his house into a
wooden horse, intimating that he would stir up dispute and litigation
between him and some of his relations.
He went beyond all men in the passion for distinction. When he was
still young and unknown in the world, he entreated Epicles of Hermione,
who had a good hand at the lute and was much sought after by the
Athenians, to come and practice at home with him, being ambitious of
having people inquire after his house and frequent his company. When he
came to the Olympic games, and was so splendid in his equipage and
entertainments, in his rich tents and furniture, that he strove to
outdo Cimon, he displeased the Greeks, who thought that such
magnificence might be allowed in one who was a young man and of a great
family but was a great piece of insolence in one as yet
undistinguished, and without title or means for making any such
display. In a dramatic contest, the play he paid for won the prize,
which was then a matter that excited much emulation; he put up a tablet
in record of it, with the inscription, "Themistocles of Phrearrhi was
at the charge of it; Phrynichus made it; Adimantus was archon." He was
well liked by the common people, would salute every particular citizen
by his own name, and always show himself a just judge in questions of
business between private men; he said to Simonides, the poet of Ceos,
who desired something of him, when he was commander of the army, that
was not reasonable, "Simonides, you would be no good poet if you wrote
false measure, nor should I be a good magistrate if for favor I made
false law." And at another time, laughing at Simonides, he said, that
he was a man of little judgment to speak against the Corinthians, who
were inhabitants of a great city, and to have his own picture drawn so
often, having so ill-looking a face.
Gradually growing to be great, and winning the favor of the people, he
at last gained the day with his faction over that of Aristides, and
procured his banishment by ostracism. When the king of Persia was now
advancing against Greece, and the Athenians were in consultation who
should be general, and many withdrew themselves of their own accord,
being terrified with the greatness of the danger, there was one
Epicydes, a popular speaker, son to Euphemides, a man of an eloquent
tongue, but of a faint heart, and a slave to riches, who was desirous
of the command, and was looked upon to be in a fair way to carry it by
the number of votes; but Themistocles, fearing that, if the command
should fall into such hands, all would be lost, bought off Epicydes and
his pretensions, it is said, for a sum of money.
When the king of Persia sent messengers into Greece, with an
interpreter, to demand earth and water, as an acknowledgment of
subjection, Themistocles, by the consent of the people, seized upon the
interpreter, and put him to death, for presuming to publish the
barbarian orders and decrees in the Greek language; this is one of the
actions he is commended for, as also for what he did to Arthmius of
Zelea, who brought gold from the king of Persia to corrupt the Greeks,
and was, by an order from Themistocles, degraded and disfranchised, he
and his children and his posterity; but that which most of all
redounded to his credit was, that he put an end to all the civil wars
of Greece, composed their differences, and persuaded them to lay aside
all enmity during the war with the Persians; and in this great work,
Chileus the Arcadian was, it is said, of great assistance to him.
Having taken upon himself the command of the Athenian forces, he
immediately endeavored to persuade the citizens to leave the city, and
to embark upon their galleys, and meet with the Persians at a great
distance from Greece; but many being against this, he led a large
force, together with the Lacedaemonians, into Tempe, that in this pass
they might maintain the safety of Thessaly, which had not as yet
declared for the king; but when they returned without performing
anything; and it was known that not only the Thessalians, but all as
far as Boeotia, was going over to Xerxes, then the Athenians more
willingly hearkened to the advice of Themistocles to fight by sea, and
sent him with a fleet to guard the straits of Artemisium.
When the contingents met here, the Greeks would have the Lacedaemonians
to command, and Eurybiades to be their admiral; but the Athenians, who
surpassed all the rest together in number of vessels, would not submit
to come after any other, till Themistocles, perceiving the danger of
this contest, yielded his own command to Eurybiades, and got the
Athenians to submit, extenuating the loss by persuading them, that if
in this war they behaved themselves like men, he would answer for it
after that, that the Greeks, of their own will, would submit to their
command. And by this moderation of his, it is evident that he was the
chief means of the deliverance of Greece, and gained the Athenians the
glory of alike surpassing their enemies in valor, and their
confederates in wisdom.
As soon as the Persian armada arrived at Aphetae, Eurybiades was
astonished to see such a vast number of vessels before him, and, being
informed that two hundred more were sailing round behind the island of
Sciathus, he immediately determined to retire farther into Greece, and
to sail back into some part of Peloponnesus, where their land army and
their fleet might join, for he looked upon the Persian forces to be
altogether unassailable by sea. But the Euboeans, fearing that the
Greeks would forsake them, and leave them to the mercy of the enemy,
sent Pelagon to confer privately with Themistocles, taking with him a
good sum of money, which, as Herodotus reports, he accepted and gave to
Eurybiades. In this affair none of his own countrymen opposed him so
much as Architeles, captain of the sacred galley, who, having no money
to supply his seamen, was eager to go home; but Themistocles so
incensed the Athenians against him, that they set upon him and left him
not so much as his supper, at which Architeles was much surprised, and
took it very ill; but Themistocles immediately sent him in a chest a
service of provisions, and at the bottom of it a talent of silver,
desiring him to sup tonight, and tomorrow provide for his seamen; if
not, he would report it amongst the Athenians that he had received
money from the enemy. So Phanias the Lesbian tells the story.
Though the fights between the Greeks and Persians in the straits of
Euboea were not so important as to make any final decision of the war,
yet the experience which the Greeks obtained in them was of great
advantage, for thus, by actual trial and in real danger, they found out
that neither number of ships, nor riches and ornaments, nor boasting
shouts, nor barbarous songs of victory, were any way terrible to men
that knew how to fight, and were resolved to come hand to hand with
their enemies; these things they were to despise, and to come up close
and grapple with their foes. This, Pindar appears to have seen, and
says justly enough of the fight at Artemisium, that
There the sons of Athens set The stone that freedom stands on yet.
For the first step towards victory undoubtedly is to gain courage.
Artemisium is in Euboea, beyond the city of Histiaea, a sea-beach open
to the north; most nearly opposite to it stands Olizon, in the country
which formerly was under Philoctetes; there is a small temple there,
dedicated to Diana, surnamed of the Dawn, and trees about it, around
which again stand pillars of white marble; and if you rub them with
your hand, they send forth both the smell and color of saffron. On one
of the pillars these verses are engraved,--
With numerous tribes from Asia's regions brought
The sons of Athens on these waters, fought;
Erecting, after they had quelled the Mede,
To Artemis this record of the deed.
There is a place still to be seen upon this shore, where, in the middle
of a great heap of sand, they take out from the bottom a dark powder
like ashes, or something that has passed the fire; and here, it is
supposed, the shipwrecks and bodies of the dead were burnt.
But when news came from Thermopylae to Artemisium, informing them that
king Leonidas was slain, and that Xerxes had made himself master of all
the passages by land, they returned back to the interior of Greece, the
Athenians having the command of the rear, the place of honor and
danger, and much elated by what had been done.
As Themistocles sailed along the coast, he took notice of the harbors
and fit places for the enemies' ships to come to land at, and engraved
large letters in such stones as he found there by chance, as also in
others which he set up on purpose near to the landing-places, or where
they were to water; in which inscriptions he called upon the Ionians to
forsake the Medes, if it were possible, and come over to the Greeks,
who were their proper founders and fathers, and were now hazarding all
for their liberties; but, if this could not be done, at any rate to
impede and disturb the Persians in all engagements. He hoped that these
writings would prevail with the Ionians to revolt, or raise some
trouble by making their fidelity doubtful to the Persians.
Now, though Xerxes had already passed through Doris and invaded the
country of Phocis, and was burning and destroying the cities of the
Phocians, yet the Greeks sent them no relief; and, though the Athenians
earnestly desired them to meet the Persians in Boeotia, before they
could come into Attica, as they themselves had come forward by sea at
Artemisium, they gave no ear to their request, being wholly intent upon
Peloponnesus, and resolved to gather all their forces together within
the Isthmus, and to build a wall from sea to sea in that narrow neck of
land; so that the Athenians were enraged to see themselves betrayed,
and at the same time afflicted and dejected at their own destitution.
For to fight alone against such a numerous army was to no purpose, and
the only expedient now left them was to leave their city and cling to
their ships; which the people were very unwilling to submit to,
imagining that it would signify little now to gain a victory, and not
understanding how there could be deliverance any longer after they had
once forsaken the temples of their gods and exposed the tombs and
monuments of their ancestors to the fury of their enemies.
Themistocles, being at a loss, and not able to draw the people over to
his opinion by any human reason, set his machines to work, as in a
theater, and employed prodigies and oracles. The serpent of Minerva,
kept in the inner part of her temple, disappeared; the priests gave it
out to the people that the offerings which were set for it were found
untouched, and declared, by the suggestion of Themistocles, that the
goddess had left the city, and taken her flight before them towards the
sea. And he often urged them with the oracle which bade them trust to
walls of wood, showing them that walls of wood could signify nothing
else but ships; and that the island of Salamis was termed in it, not
miserable or unhappy, but had the epithet of divine, for that it should
one day be associated with a great good fortune of the Greeks. At
length his opinion prevailed, and he obtained a decree that the city
should be committed to the protection of Minerva, "queen of Athens;"
that they who were of age to bear arms should embark, and that each
should see to sending away his children, women, and slaves where he
could. This decree being confirmed, most of the Athenians removed their
parents, wives, and children to Troezen, where they were received with
eager good-will by the Troezenians, who passed a vote that they should
be maintained at the public charge, by a daily payment of two obols to
every one, and leave be given to the children to gather fruit where
they pleased, and schoolmasters paid to instruct them. This vote was
proposed by Nicagoras.
There was no public treasure at that time in Athens; but the council of
Areopagus, as Aristotle says, distributed to every one that served,
eight drachmas, which was a great help to the manning of the fleet; but
Clidemus ascribes this also to the art of Themistocles. When the
Athenians were on their way down to the haven of Piraeus, the shield
with the head of Medusa was missing; and he, under the pretext of
searching for it, ransacked all places, and found among their goods
considerable sums of money concealed, which he applied to the public
use; and with this the soldiers and seamen were well provided for their
voyage.
When the whole city of Athens were going on board, it afforded a
spectacle worthy of pity alike and admiration, to see them thus send
away their fathers and children before them, and, unmoved with their
cries and tears, pass over into the island. But that which stirred
compassion most of all was, that many old men, by reason of their great
age, were left behind; and even the tame domestic animals could not be
seen without some pity, running about the town and howling, as desirous
to be carried along with their masters that had kept them; among which
it is reported that Xanthippus, the father of Pericles, had a dog that
would not endure to stay behind, but leaped into the sea, and swam
along by the galley's side till he came to the island of Salamis, where
he fainted away and died, and that spot in the island, which is still
called the Dog's Grave, is said to be his.
Among the great actions of Themistocles at this crisis, the recall of
Aristides was not the least, for, before the war, he had been
ostracized by the party which Themistocles headed, and was in
banishment; but now, perceiving that the people regretted his absence,
and were fearful that he might go over to the Persians to revenge
himself, and thereby ruin the affairs of Greece, Themistocles proposed
a decree that those who were banished for a time might return again, to
give assistance by word and deed to the cause of Greece with the rest
of their fellow-citizens.
Eurybiades, by reason of the greatness of Sparta, was admiral of the
Greek fleet, but yet was faint-hearted in time of danger, and willing
to weigh anchor and set sail for the isthmus of Corinth, near which the
land army lay encamped; which Themistocles resisted; and this was the
occasion of the well-known words, when Eurybiades, to check his
impatience, told him that at the Olympic games they that start up
before the rest are lashed; "And they," replied Themistocles, "that are
left behind are not crowned." Again, Eurybiades lifting up his staff as
if he were going to strike, Themistocles said, "Strike if you will, but
hear;" Eurybiades, wondering much at his moderation, desired him to
speak, and Themistocles now brought him to a better understanding. And
when one who stood by him told him that it did not become those who had
neither city nor house to lose, to persuade others to relinquish their
habitations and forsake their countries, Themistocles gave this reply:
"We have indeed left our houses and our walls, base fellow, not
thinking it fit to become slaves for the sake of things that have no
life nor soul; and yet our city is the greatest of all Greece,
consisting of two hundred galleys, which are here to defend you, if you
please; but if you run away and betray us, as you did once before, the
Greeks shall soon hear news of the Athenians possessing as fair a
country, and as large and free a city, as that they have lost." These
expressions of Themistocles made Eurybiades suspect that if he
retreated the Athenians would fall off from him. When one of Eretria
began to oppose him, he said, "Have you anything to say of war, that
are like an ink-fish? you have a sword, but no heart." Some say that
while Themistocles was thus speaking things upon the deck, an owl was
seen flying to the right hand of the fleet, which came and sat upon the
top of the mast; and this happy omen so far disposed the Greeks to
follow his advice, that they presently prepared to fight. Yet, when the
enemy's fleet was arrived at the haven of Phalerum, upon the coast of
Attica, and with the number of their ships concealed all the shore, and
when they saw the king himself in person come down with his land army
to the seaside, with all his forces united, then the good counsel of
Themistocles was soon forgotten, and the Peloponnesians cast their eyes
again towards the isthmus, and took it very ill if any one spoke
against their returning home; and, resolving to depart that night, the
pilots had order what course to steer. The Teuthis, loligo, or
cuttlefish, is said to have a bone or cartilage shaped like a sword,
and was conceived to have no heart.
Themistocles, in great distress that the Greeks should retire, and lose
the advantage of the narrow seas and strait passage, and slip home
every one to his own city, considered with himself, and contrived that
stratagem that was carried out by Sicinnus. This Sicinnus was a Persian
captive, but a great lover of Themistocles, and the attendant of his
children. Upon this occasion, he sent him privately to Xerxes,
commanding him to tell the king, that Themistocles, the admiral of the
Athenians, having espoused his interest, wished to be the first to
inform him that the Greeks were ready to make their escape, and that he
counseled him to hinder their flight, to set upon them while they were
in this confusion and at a distance from their land army, and hereby
destroy all their forces by sea. Xerxes was very joyful at this
message, and received it as from one who wished him all that was good,
and immediately issued instructions to the commanders of his ships,
that they should instantly Yet out with two hundred galleys to
encompass all the islands, and enclose all the straits and passages,
that none of the Greeks might escape, and that they should afterwards
follow with the rest of their fleet at leisure. This being done,
Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, was the first man that perceived it,
and went to the tent of Themistocles, not out of any friendship, for he
had been formerly banished by his means, as has been related, but to
inform him how they were encompassed by their enemies. Themistocles,
knowing the generosity of Aristides, and much struck by his visit at
that time, imparted to him all that he had transacted by Sicinnus, and
entreated him, that, as he would be more readily believed among the
Greeks, he would make use of his credit to help to induce them to stay
and fight their enemies in the narrow seas. Aristides applauded
Themistocles, and went to the other commanders and captains of the
galleys, and encouraged them to engage; yet they did not perfectly
assent to him, till a galley of Tenos, which deserted from the
Persians, of which Panaetius was commander, came in, while they were
still doubting, and confirmed the news that all the straits and
passages were beset; and then their rage and fury, as well as their
necessity; provoked them all to fight.
As soon as it was day, Xerxes placed himself high up, to view his
fleet, and how it was set in order. Phanodemus says, he sat upon a
promontory above the temple of Hercules, where the coast of Attica is
separated from the island by a narrow channel; but Acestodorus writes,
that it was in the confines of Megara, upon those hills which are
called the Horns, where he sat in a chair of gold, with many
secretaries about him to write down all that was done in the fight.
When Themistocles was about to sacrifice, close to the admiral's
galley, there were three prisoners brought to him, fine looking men,
and richly dressed in ornamented clothing and gold, said to be the
children of Artayctes and Sandauce, sister to Xerxes. As soon as the
prophet Euphrantides saw them, and observed that at the same time the
fire blazed out from the offerings with a more than ordinary flame, and
that a man sneezed on the right, which was an intimation of a fortunate
event, he took Themistocles by the hand, and bade him consecrate the
three young men for sacrifice, and offer them up with prayers for
victory to Bacchus the Devourer: so should the Greeks not only save
themselves, but also obtain victory. Themistocles was much disturbed at
this strange and terrible prophecy, but the common people, who, in any
difficult crisis and great exigency, ever look for relief rather to
strange and extravagant than to reasonable means, calling upon Bacchus
with one voice, led the captives to the altar, and compelled the
execution of the sacrifice as the prophet had commanded. This is
reported by Phanias the Lesbian, a philosopher well read in history.
The number of the enemy's ships the poet Aeschylus gives in his tragedy
called the Persians, as on his certain knowledge, in the following
words--
Xerxes, I know, did into battle lead
One thousand ships; of more than usual speed
Seven and two hundred. So is it agreed.
The Athenians had a hundred and eighty; in every ship eighteen men
fought upon the deck, four of whom were archers and the rest men-at-
arms.
As Themistocles had fixed upon the most advantageous place, so, with no
less sagacity, he chose the best time of fighting; for he would not run
the prows of his galleys against the Persians, nor begin the fight till
the time of day was come, when there regularly blows in a fresh breeze
from the open sea, and brings in with it a strong swell into the
channel; which was no inconvenience to the Greek ships, which were low-
built, and little above the water, but did much hurt to the Persians,
which had high sterns and lofty decks, and were heavy and cumbrous in
their movements, as it presented them broadside to the quick charges of
the Greeks, who kept their eyes upon the motions of Themistocles, as
their best example, and more particularly because, opposed to his ship,
Ariamenes, admiral to Xerxes, a brave man, and by far the best and
worthiest of the king's brothers, was seen throwing darts and shooting
arrows from his huge galley, as from the walls of a castle. Aminias the
Decelean and Sosicles the Pedian, who sailed in the same vessel, upon
the ships meeting stem to stem, and transfixing each the other with
their brazen prows, so that they were fastened together, when Ariamenes
attempted to board theirs, ran at him with their pikes, and thrust him
into the sea; his body, as it floated amongst other shipwrecks, was
known to Artemisia, and carried to Xerxes.
It is reported, that, in the middle of the fight, a great flame rose
into the air above the city of Eleusis, and that sounds and voices were
heard through all the Thriasian plain, as far as the sea, sounding like
a number of men accompanying and escorting the mystic Iacchus, and that
a mist seemed to form and rise from the place from whence the sounds
came, and, passing forward, fell upon the galleys. Others believed that
they saw apparitions, in the shape of armed men, reaching out their
hands from the island of Aegina before the Grecian galleys; and
supposed they were the Aeacidae, whom they had invoked to their aid
before the battle. The first man that took a ship was Lycomedes the
Athenian, captain of a galley, who cut down its ensign, and dedicated
it to Apollo the Laurel-crowned. And as the Persians fought in a narrow
arm of the sea, and could bring but part of their fleet to fight, and
fell foul of one another, the Greeks thus equaled them in strength, and
fought with them till the evening, forced them back, and obtained, as
says Simonides, that noble and famous victory, than which neither
amongst the Greeks nor barbarians was ever known more glorious exploit
on the seas; by the joint valor, indeed, and zeal of all who fought,
but by the wisdom and sagacity of Themistocles.
After this sea-fight, Xerxes, enraged at his ill-fortune, attempted, by
casting great heaps of earth and stones into the sea, to stop up the
channel and to make a dam, upon which he might lead his land-forces
over into the island of Salamis.
Themistocles, being desirous to try the opinion of Aristides, told him
that he proposed to set sail for the Hellespont, to break the bridge of
ships, so as to shut up, he said, Asia a prisoner within Europe; but
Aristides, disliking the design, said, "We have hitherto fought with an
enemy who has regarded little else but his pleasure and luxury; but if
we shut him up within Greece, and drive him to necessity, he that is
master of such great forces will no longer sit quietly with an umbrella
of gold over his head, looking upon the fight for his pleasure; but in
such a strait will attempt all things; he will be resolute, and appear
himself in person upon all occasions, he will soon correct his errors,
and supply what he has formerly omitted through remissness, and will be
better advised in all things. Therefore, it is noways our interest,
Themistocles," he said, "to take away the bridge that is already made,
but rather to build another, if it were possible, that he might make
his retreat with the more expedition." To which Themistocles answered,
"If this be requisite, we must immediately use all diligence, art, and
industry, to rid ourselves of him as soon as may be;" and to this
purpose he found out among the captives one of the king Of Persia's
eunuchs, named Arnaces, whom he sent to the king, to inform him that
the Greeks, being now victorious by sea, had decreed to sail to the
Hellespont, where the boats were fastened together, and destroy the
bridge; but that Themistocles, being concerned for the king, revealed
this to him, that he might hasten towards the Asiatic seas, and pass
over into his own dominions; and in the mean time would cause delays,
and hinder the confederates from pursuing him. Xerxes no sooner heard
this, but, being very much terrified, he proceeded to retreat out of
Greece with all speed. The prudence of Themistocles and Aristides in
this was afterwards more fully understood at the battle of Plataea,
where Mardonius, with a very small fraction of the forces of Xerxes,
put the Greeks in danger of losing all.
Herodotus writes, that, of all the cities of Greece, Aegina was held to
have performed the best service in the war; while all single men
yielded to Themistocles, though, out of envy, unwillingly; and when
they returned to the entrance of Peloponnesus, where the several
commanders delivered their suffrages at the altar, to determine who was
most worthy, every one gave the first vote for himself and the second
for Themistocles. The Lacedaemonians carried him with them to Sparta,
where, giving the rewards of valor to Eurybiades, and of wisdom and
conduct to Themistocles, they crowned him with olive, presented him
with the best chariot in the city, and sent three hundred young men to
accompany him to the confines of their country. And at the next Olympic
games, when Themistocles entered the course, the spectators took no
farther notice of those who were contesting the prizes, but spent the
whole day in looking upon him, showing him to the strangers, admiring
him, and applauding him by clapping their hands, and other expressions
of joy, so that he himself, much gratified, confessed to his friends
that he then reaped the fruit of all his labors for the Greeks.
He was, indeed, by nature, a great lover of honor, as is evident from
the anecdotes recorded of him. When chosen admiral by the Athenians, he
would not quite conclude any single matter of business, either public
or private, but deferred all till the day they were to set sail, that,
by dispatching a great quantity of business all at once, and having to
meet a great variety of people, he might make an appearance of
greatness and power. Viewing the dead bodies cast up by the sea, he
perceived bracelets and necklaces of gold about them, yet passed on,
only showing them to a friend that followed him, saying, "Take you
these things, for you are not Themistocles." He said to Antiphates, a
handsome young man, who had formerly avoided, but now in his glory
courted him, "Time, young man, has taught us both a lesson." He said
that the Athenians did not honor him or admire him, but made, as it
were, a sort of plane-tree of him; sheltered themselves under him in
bad weather, and, as soon as it was fine, plucked his leaves and cut
his branches. When the Seriphian told him that he had not obtained this
honor by himself, but by the greatness of his city, he replied, "You
speak truth; I should never have been famous if I had been of Seriphus;
nor you, had you been of Athens." When another of the generals, who
thought he had performed considerable service for the Athenians,
boastingly compared his actions with those of Themistocles, he told him
that once upon a time the Day after the Festival found fault with the
Festival: "On you there is nothing but hurry and trouble and
preparation, but, when I come, everybody sits down quietly and enjoys
himself;" which the Festival admitted was true, but "if I had not come
first, you would not have come at all." "Even so," he said, "if
Themistocles had not come before, where had you been now?" Laughing at
his own son, who got his mother, and, by his mother's means, his father
also, to indulge him, he told him that he had the most power of any one
in Greece: "For the Athenians command the rest of Greece, I command the
Athenians, your mother commands me, and you command your mother."
Loving to be singular in all things, when he had land to sell, he
ordered the crier to give notice that there were good neighbors near
it. Of two who made love to his daughter, he preferred the man of worth
to the one who was rich, saying he desired a man without riches, rather
than riches without a man. Such was the character of his sayings.
After these things, he began to rebuild and fortify the city of Athens,
bribing, as Theopompus reports, the Lacedaemonian ephors not to be
against it, but, as most relate it, overreaching and deceiving them.
For, under pretest of an embassy, he went to Sparta, where, upon the
Lacedaemonians charging him with rebuilding the walls, and Poliarchus
coming on purpose from Aegina to denounce it, he denied the fact,
bidding them to send people to Athens to see whether it were so or no;
by which delay he got time for the building of the wall, and also
placed these ambassadors in the hands of his countrymen as hostages for
him; and so, when the Lacedaemonians knew the truth, they did him no
hurt, but, suppressing all display of their anger for the present, sent
him away.
Next he proceeded to establish the harbor of Piraeus, observing the
great natural advantages of the locality and desirous to unite the
whole city with the sea, and to reverse, in a manner, the policy of
ancient Athenian kings, who, endeavoring to withdraw their subjects
from the sea, and to accustom them to live, not by sailing about, but
by planting and tilling the earth, spread the story of the dispute
between Minerva and Neptune for the sovereignty of Athens, in which
Minerva, by producing to the judges an olive tree, was declared to have
won; whereas Themistocles did not only knead up, as Aristophanes says,
the port and the city into one, but made the city absolutely the
dependent and the adjunct of the port, and the land of the sea, which
increased the power and confidence of the people against the nobility;
the authority coming into the hands of sailors and boatswains and
pilots. Thus it was one of the orders of the thirty tyrants, that the
hustings in the assembly, which had faced towards the sea, should be
turned round towards the land; implying their opinion that the empire
by sea had been the origin of the democracy, and that the farming
population were not so much opposed to oligarchy.
Themistocles, however, formed yet higher designs with a view to naval
supremacy. For, after the departure of Xerxes, when the Grecian fleet
was arrived at Pagasae, where they wintered, Themistocles, in a public
oration to the people of Athens, told them that he had a design to
perform something that would tend greatly to their interests and
safety, but was of such a nature, that it could not be made generally
public. The Athenians ordered him to impart it to Aristides only; and,
if he approved of it, to put it in practice. And when Themistocles had
discovered to him that his design was to burn the Grecian fleet in the
haven of Pagasae, Aristides, coming out to the people, gave this report
of the stratagem contrived by Themistocles, that no proposal could be
more politic, or more dishonorable; on which the Athenians commanded
Themistocles to think no farther of it.
When the Lacedaemonians proposed, at the general council of the
Amphictyonians, that the representatives of those cities which were not
in the league, nor had fought against the Persians, should be excluded,
Themistocles, fearing that the Thessalians, with those of Thebes,
Argos, and others, being thrown out of the council, the Lacedaemonians
would become wholly masters of the votes, and do what they pleased,
supported the deputies of the cities, and prevailed with the members
then sitting to alter their opinion in this point, showing them that
there were but one and thirty cities which had partaken in the war, and
that most of these, also, were very small; how intolerable would it be,
if the rest of Greece should be excluded, and the general council
should come to be ruled by two or three great cities. By this, chiefly,
he incurred the displeasure of the Lacedaemonians, whose honors and
favors were now shown to Cimon, with a view to making him the opponent
of the state policy of Themistocles.
He was also burdensome to the confederates, sailing about the islands
and collecting money from them. Herodotus says, that, requiring money
of those of the island of Andros, he told them that he had brought with
him two goddesses, Persuasion and Force; and they answered him that
they had also two great goddesses, which prohibited them from giving
him any money, Poverty and Impossibility. Timocreon, the Rhodian poet,
reprehends him somewhat bitterly for being wrought upon by money to let
some who were banished return, while abandoning himself, who was his
guest and friend. The verses are these:--
Pausanias you may praise, and Xanthippus he be for,
For Leutychidas, a third; Aristides, I proclaim,
From the sacred Athens came,
The one true man of all; for Themistocles Latona doth abhor
The liar, traitor, cheat, who, to gain his filthy pay,
Timocreon, his friend, neglected to restore
To his native Rhodian shore;
Three silver talents took, and departed (curses with him) on his way,
Restoring people here, expelling there, and killing here,
Filling evermore his purse: and at the Isthmus gave a treat,
To be laughed at, of cold meat,
Which they ate, and prayed the gods some one else might give the feast
another year.
But after the sentence and banishment of Themistocles, Timocreon
reviles him yet more immoderately and wildly in a poem which begins
thus:--
Unto all the Greeks repair
O Muse, and tell these verses there,
As is fitting and is fair.
The story is, that it was put to the question whether Timocreon should
be banished for siding with the Persians, and Themistocles gave his
vote against him. So when Themistocles was accused of intriguing with
the Medes, Timocreon made these lines upon him:--
So now Timocreon, indeed, is not the sole friend of the Mede,
There are some knaves besides; nor is it only mine that fails,
But other foxes have lost tails. --
When the citizens of Athens began to listen willingly to those who
traduced and reproached him, he was forced, with somewhat obnoxious
frequency, to put them in mind of the great services he had performed,
and ask those who were offended with him whether they were weary with
receiving benefits often from the same person, so rendering himself
more odious. And he yet more provoked the people by building a temple
to Diana with the epithet of Aristobule, or Diana of Best Counsel;
intimating thereby, that he had given the best counsel, not only to the
Athenians, but to all Greece. He built this temple near his own house,
in the district called Melite, where now the public officers carry out
the bodies of such as are executed, and throw the halters and clothes
of those that are strangled or otherwise put to death. There is to this
day a small figure of Themistocles in the temple of Diana of Best
Counsel, which represents him to be a person, not only of a noble mind,
but also of a most heroic aspect. At length the Athenians banished him,
making use of the ostracism to humble his eminence and authority, as
they ordinarily did with all whom they thought too powerful, or, by
their greatness, disproportionable to the equality thought requisite in
a popular government. For the ostracism was instituted, not so much to
punish the offender, as to mitigate and pacify the violence of the
envious, who delighted to humble eminent men, and who, by fixing this
disgrace upon them, might vent some part of their rancor.
Themistocles being banished from Athens, while he stayed at Argos the
detection of Pausanias happened, which gave such advantage to his
enemies, that Leobotes of Agraule, son of Alcmaeon, indicted him of
treason, the Spartans supporting him in the accusation.
When Pausanias went about this treasonable design, he concealed it at
first from Themistocles, though he were his intimate friend; but when
he saw him expelled out of the commonwealth, and how impatiently he
took his banishment, he ventured to communicate it to him, and desired
his assistance, showing him the king of Persia's letters, and
exasperating him against the Greeks, as a villainous, ungrateful
people. However, Themistocles immediately rejected the proposals of
Pausanias, and wholly refused to be a party in the enterprise, though
he never revealed his communications, nor disclosed the conspiracy to
any man, either hoping that Pausanias would desist from his intentions,
or expecting that so inconsiderate an attempt after such chimerical
objects would be discovered by other means.
After that Pausanias was put to death, letters and writings being found
concerning this matter, which rendered Themistocles suspected, the
Lacedaemonians were clamorous against him, and his enemies among the
Athenians accused him; when, being absent from Athens, he made his
defense by letters, especially against the points that had been
previously alleged against him. In answer to the malicious detractions
of his enemies, he merely wrote to the citizens, urging that he who was
always ambitious to govern, and not of a character or a disposition to
serve, would never sell himself and his country into slavery to a
barbarous and hostile nation.
Notwithstanding this, the people, being persuaded by his accusers, sent
officers to take him and bring him away to be tried before a council of
the Greeks, but, having timely notice of it, he passed over into the
island of Corcyra, where the state was under obligations to him; for
being chosen as arbitrator in a difference between them and the
Corinthians, he decided the controversy by ordering the Corinthians to
pay down twenty talents, and declaring the town and island of Leucas a
joint colony from both cities. From thence he fled into Epirus, and,
the Athenians and Lacedaemonians still pursuing him, he threw himself
upon chances of safety that seemed all but desperate. For he fled for
refuge to Admetus, king of the Molossians, who had formerly made some
request to the Athenians, when Themistocles was in the height of his
authority, and had been disdainfully used and insulted by him, and had
let it appear plain enough, that could he lay hold of him, he would
take his revenge. Yet in this misfortune, Themistocles, fearing the
recent hatred of his neighbors and fellow-citizens more than the old
displeasure of the king, put himself at his mercy, and became a humble
suppliant to Admetus, after a peculiar manner, different from the
custom of other countries. For taking the king's son, who was then a
child, in his arms, he laid himself down at his hearth, this being the
most sacred and only manner of supplication, among the Molossians,
which was not to be refused. And some say that his wife, Phthia,
intimated to Themistocles this way of petitioning, and placed her young
son with him before the hearth; others, that king Admetus, that he
might be under a religious obligation not to deliver him up to his
pursuers, prepared and enacted with him a sort of stage-play to this
effect. At this time, Epicrates of Acharnae privately conveyed his wife
and children out of Athens, and sent them hither, for which afterwards
Cimon condemned him and put him to death, as Stesimbrotus reports, and
yet somehow, either forgetting this himself, or making Themistocles to
be little mindful of it, says presently that he sailed into Sicily, and
desired in marriage the daughter of Hiero, tyrant of Syracuse,
promising to bring the Greeks under his power; and, on Hiero refusing
him, departed thence into Asia; but this is not probable.
For Theophrastus writes, in his work on Monarchy, that when Hiero sent
race-horses to the Olympian games, and erected a pavilion sumptuously
furnished, Themistocles made an oration to the Greeks, inciting them to
pull down the tyrant's tent, and not to suffer his horses to run.
Thucydides says, that, passing over land to the Aegaean Sea, he took
ship at Pydna in the bay of Therme, not being known to any one in the
ship, till, being terrified to see the vessel driven by the winds near
to Naxos, which was then besieged by the Athenians, he made himself
known to the master and pilot, and, partly entreating them, partly
threatening that if they went on shore he would accuse them, and make
the Athenians to believe that they did not take him in out of
ignorance, but that he had corrupted them with money from the
beginning, he compelled them to bear off and stand out to sea, and sail
forward towards the coast of Asia.
A great part of his estate was privately conveyed away by his friends,
and sent after him by sea into Asia; besides which there was discovered
and confiscated to the value of fourscore talents, as Theophrastus
writes, Theopompus says a hundred; though Themistocles was never worth
three talents before he was concerned in public affairs.
When he arrived at Cyme, and understood that all along the coast there
were many laid wait for him, and particularly Ergoteles and Pythodorus
(for the game was worth the hunting for such as were thankful to make
money by any means, the king of Persia having offered by public
proclamation two hundred talents to him that should take him), he fled
to Aegae, a small city of the Aeolians, where no one knew him but only
his host Nicogenes, who was the richest man in Aeolia, and well known
to the great men of Inner Asia. While Themistocles lay hid for some
days in his house, one night, after a sacrifice and supper ensuing,
Olbius, the attendant upon Nicogenes's children, fell into a sort of
frenzy and fit of inspiration, and cried out in verse,--
Night shall speak, and night instruct thee,
By the voice of night conduct thee.
After this, Themistocles, going to bed, dreamed that he saw a snake
coil itself up upon his belly, and so creep to his neck; then, as soon
as it touched his face, it turned into an eagle, which spread its wings
over him, and took him up and flew away with him a great distance; then
there appeared a herald's golden wand, and upon this at last it set him
down securely, after infinite terror and disturbance.
His departure was effected by Nicogenes by the following artifice; the
barbarous nations, and amongst them the Persians especially, are
extremely jealous, severe, and suspicious about their women, not only
their wives, but also their bought slaves and concubines, whom they
keep so strictly that no one ever sees them abroad; they spend their
lives shut up within doors, and, when they take a journey, are carried
in close tents, curtained in on all sides, and set upon a wagon. Such a
traveling carriage being prepared for Themistocles, they hid him in it,
and carried him on his journeys and told those whom they met or spoke
with upon the road that they were conveying a young Greek woman out of
Ionia to a nobleman at court.
Thucydides and Charon of Lampsacus say that Xerxes was dead, and that
Themistocles had an interview with his son; but Ephorus, Dinon,
Clitarchus, Heraclides, and many others, write that he came to Xerxes.
The chronological tables better agree with the account of Thucydides,
and yet neither can their statements be said to be quite set at rest.
When Themistocles was come to the critical point, he applied himself
first to Artabanus, commander of a thousand men, telling him that he
was a Greek, and desired to speak with the king about important affairs
concerning which the king was extremely solicitous. Artabanus answered
him, "O stranger, the laws of men are different, and one thing is
honorable to one man, and to others another; but it is honorable for
all to honor and observe their own laws. It is the habit of the Greeks,
we are told, to honor, above all things, liberty and equality; but
amongst our many excellent laws, we account this the most excellent, to
honor the king, and to worship him, as the image of the great preserver
of the universe; if, then, you shall consent to our laws, and fall down
before the king and worship him, you may both see him and speak to him;
but if your mind be otherwise, you must make use of others to intercede
for you, for it is not the national custom here for the king to give
audience to anyone that doth not fall down before him." Themistocles,
hearing this, replied, "Artabanus, I that come hither to increase the
power and glory of the king, will not only submit myself to his laws,
since so it hath pleased the god who exalteth the Persian empire to
this greatness, but will also cause many more to be worshippers and
adorers of the king. Let not this, therefore, be an impediment why I
should not communicate to the king what I have to impart." Artabanus
asking him, "Who must we tell him that you are? for your words signify
you to be no ordinary person," Themistocles answered, "No man, O
Artabanus, must be informed of this before the king himself." Thus
Phanias relates; to which Eratosthenes, in his treatise on Riches,
adds, that it was by the means of a woman of Eretria, who was kept by
Artabanus, that he obtained this audience and interview with him.
When he was introduced to the king, and had paid his reverence to him,
he stood silent, till the king commanding the interpreter to ask him
who he was, he replied, "O king, I am Themistocles the Athenian, driven
into banishment by the Greeks. The evils that I have done to the
Persians are numerous; but my benefits to them yet greater, in
withholding the Greeks from pursuit, so soon as the deliverance of my
own country allowed me to show kindness also to you. I come with a mind
suited to my present calamities; prepared alike for favors and for
anger; to welcome your gracious reconciliation, and to deprecate your
wrath. Take my own countrymen for witnesses of the services I have done
for Persia, and make use of this occasion to show the world your
virtue, rather than to satisfy your indignation. If you save me, you
will save your suppliant; if otherwise, will destroy an enemy of the
Greeks." He talked also of divine admonitions, such as the vision which
he saw at Nicogenes's house, and the direction given him by the oracle
of Dodona, where Jupiter commanded him to go to him that had a name
like his, by which he understood that he was sent from Jupiter to him,
seeing that they both were great, and had the name of kings.
The king heard him attentively, and, though he admired his temper and
courage, gave him no answer at that time; but, when he was with his
intimate friends, rejoiced in his great good fortune, and esteemed
himself very happy in this, and prayed to his god Arimanius, that all
his enemies might be ever of the same mind with the Greeks, to abuse
and expel the bravest men amongst them. Then he sacrificed to the gods,
and presently fell to drinking, and was so well pleased, that in the
night, in the middle of his sleep, he cried out for joy three times, "I
have Themistocles the Athenian."
In the morning, calling together the chief of his court, he had
Themistocles brought before him, who expected no good of it, when he
saw, for example, the guards fiercely set against him as soon as they
learnt his name, and giving him ill language. As he came forward
towards the king, who was seated, the rest keeping silence, passing by
Roxanes, a commander of a thousand men, he heard him, with a slight
groan, say, without stirring out of his place, "You subtle Greek
serpent, the king's good genius hath brought thee hither." Yet, when he
came into the presence, and again fell down, the king saluted him, and
spoke to him kindly, telling him he was now indebted to him two hundred
talents; for it was just and reasonable that he should receive the
reward which was proposed to whosoever should bring Themistocles; and
promising much more, and encouraging him, he commanded him to speak
freely what he would concerning the affairs of Greece. Themistocles
replied, that a man's discourse was like to a rich Persian carpet, the
beautiful figures and patterns of which can only be shown by spreading
and extending it out; when it is contracted and folded up, they are
obscured and lost; and, therefore, he desired time. The king being
pleased with the comparison, and bidding him take what time he would,
he desired a year; in which time, having, learnt the Persian language
sufficiently, he spoke with the king by himself without the help of an
interpreter, it being supposed that he discoursed only about the
affairs of Greece; but there happening, at the same time, great
alterations at court, and removals of the king's favorites, he drew
upon himself the envy of the great people, who imagined that he had
taken the boldness to speak concerning them. For the favors shown to
other strangers were nothing in comparison with the honors conferred on
him; the king invited him to partake of his own pastimes and
recreations both at home and abroad, carrying him with him a-hunting,
and made him his intimate so far that he permitted him to see the
queen-mother, and converse frequently with her. By the king's command,
he also was made acquainted with the Magian learning.
When Demaratus the Lacedaemonian, being ordered by the king to ask
whatsoever he pleased, and it should immediately be granted him,
desired that he might make his public entrance, and be carried in state
through the city of Sardis, with the tiara set in the royal manner upon
his head, Mithropaustes, cousin to the king, touched him on the head,
and told him that he had no brains for the royal tiara to cover, and if
Jupiter should give him his lightning and thunder, he would not any the
more be Jupiter for that; the king also repulsed him with anger
resolving never to be reconciled to him, but to be inexorable to all
supplications on his behalf. Yet Themistocles pacified him, and
prevailed with him to forgive him. And it is reported, that the
succeeding kings, in whose reigns there was a greater communication
between the Greeks and Persians, when they invited any considerable
Greek into their service, to encourage him, would write, and promise
him that he should be as great with them as Themistocles had been. They
relate, also, how Themistocles, when he was in great prosperity, and
courted by many, seeing himself splendidly served at his table turned
to his children and said, "Children, we had been undone if we had not
been undone." Most writers say that he had three cities given him,
Magnesia, Myus, and Lampsacus, to maintain him in bread, meat, and
wine. Neanthes of Cyzicus, and Phanias, add two more, the city of
Palaescepsis, to provide him with clothes, and Percote, with bedding
and furniture for his house.
As he was going down towards the sea-coast to take measures against
Greece, a Persian whose name was Epixyes, governor of the upper
Phrygia, laid wait to kill him, having for that purpose provided a long
time before a number of Pisidians, who were to set upon him when he
should stop to rest at a city that is called Lion's-head. But
Themistocles, sleeping in the middle of the day, saw the Mother of the
gods appear to him in a dream and say unto him, "Themistocles, keep
back from the Lion's-head, for fear you fall into the lion's jaws; for
this advice I expect that your daughter Mnesiptolema should be my
servant." Themistocles was much astonished, and, when he had made his
vows to the goddess, left the broad road, and, making a circuit, went
another way, changing his intended station to avoid that place, and at
night took up his rest in the fields. But one of the sumpter-horses,
which carried the furniture for his tent, having fallen that day into
the river, his servants spread out the tapestry, which was wet, and
hung it up to dry; in the mean time the Pisidians made towards them
with their swords drawn, and, not discerning exactly by the moon what
it was that was stretched out thought it to be the tent of
Themistocles, and that they should find him resting himself within it;
but when they came near, and lifted up the hangings, those who watched
there fell upon them and took them. Themistocles, having escaped this
great danger, in admiration of the goodness of the goddess that
appeared to him, built, in memory of it, a temple in the city of
Magnesia, which he dedicated to Dindymene, Mother of the gods, in which
he consecrated and devoted his daughter Mnesiptolema to her service.
When he came to Sardis, he visited the temples of the gods, and
observing, at his leisure, their buildings, ornaments, and the number
of their offerings, he saw in the temple of the Mother of the gods, the
statue of a virgin in brass, two cubits high, called the water-bringer.
Themistocles had caused this to be made and set up when he was surveyor
of waters at Athens, out of the fines of those whom he detected in
drawing off and diverting the public water by pipes for their private
use; and whether he had some regret to see this image in captivity, or
was desirous to let the Athenians see in what great credit and
authority he was with the king, he entered into a treaty with the
governor of Lydia to persuade him to send this statue back to Athens,
which so enraged the Persian officer, that he told him he would write
the king word of it. Themistocles, being affrighted hereat, got access
to his wives and concubines, by presents of money to whom, he appeased
the fury of the governor; and afterwards behaved with more reserve and
circumspection, fearing the envy of the Persians, and did not, as
Theopompus writes, continue to travel about Asia, but lived quietly in
his own house in Magnesia, where for a long time he passed his days in
great security, being courted by all, and enjoying rich presents, and
honored equally with the greatest persons in the Persian empire; the
king, at that time, not minding his concerns with Greece, being taken
up with the affairs of Inner Asia.
But when Egypt revolted, being assisted by the Athenians, and the Greek
galleys roved about as far as Cyprus and Cilicia, and Cimon had made
himself master of the seas, the king turned his thoughts thither, and,
bending his mind chiefly to resist the Greeks, and to check the growth
of their power against him, began to raise forces, and send out
commanders, and to dispatch messengers to Themistocles at Magnesia, to
put him in mind of his promise, and to summon him to act against the
Greeks. Yet this did not increase his hatred nor exasperate him against
the Athenians, neither was he any way elevated with the thoughts of the
honor and powerful command he was to have in this war; but judging,
perhaps, that the object would not be attained, the Greeks having at
that time, beside other great commanders, Cimon, in particular, who was
gaining wonderful military successes; but chiefly, being ashamed to
sully the glory of his former great actions, and of his many victories
and trophies, he determined to put a conclusion to his life, agreeable
to its previous course. He sacrificed to the gods, and invited his
friends; and, having entertained them and shaken hands with them, drank
bull's blood, as is the usual story; as others state, a poison
producing instant death; and ended his days in the city of Magnesia,
having lived sixty-five years, most of which he had spent in politics
and in the wars, in government and command. The king, being informed of
the cause and manner of his death, admired him more than ever, and
continued to show kindness to his friends and relations.
Themistocles left three sons by Archippe, daughter to Lysander of
Alopece, -- Archeptolis, Polyeuctus, and Cleophantus. Plato the
philosopher mentions the last as a most excellent horseman, but
otherwise insignificant person; of two sons yet older than these,
Neocles and Diocles, Neocles died when he was young by the bite of a
horse, and Diocles was adopted by his grandfather, Lysander. He had
many daughters, of whom Mnesiptolema, whom he had by a second marriage,
was wife to Archeptolis, her brother by another mother; Italia was
married to Panthoides, of the island of Chios; Sybaris to Nicomedes the
Athenian. After the death of Themistocles, his nephew, Phrasicles, went
to Magnesia, and married, with her brothers' consent, another daughter,
Nicomache, and took charge of her sister Asia, the youngest of all the
children.
The Magnesians possess a splendid sepulchre of Themistocles, placed in
the middle of their market-place. It is not worthwhile taking notice of
what Andocides states in his Address to his Friends concerning his
remains, how the Athenians robbed his tomb, and threw his ashes into
the air; for he feigns this, to exasperate the oligarchical faction
against the people; and there is no man living but knows that
Phylarchus simply invents in his history, where he all but uses an
actual stage machine, and brings in Neocles and Demopolis as the sons
of Themistocles, to incite or move compassion, as if he were writing a
tragedy. Diodorus the cosmographer says, in his work on Tombs, but by
conjecture rather than of certain knowledge, that near to the haven of
Piraeus, where the land runs out like an elbow from the promontory of
Alcimus, when you have doubled the cape and passed inward where the sea
is always calm, there is a large piece of masonry, and upon this the
tomb of Themistocles, in the shape of an altar; and Plato the comedian
confirms this, he believes, in these verses,--
Thy tomb is fairly placed upon the strand,
Where merchants still shall greet it with the land;
Still in and out 'twill see them come and go,
And watch the galleys as they race below.
Various honors also and privileges were granted to the kindred of
Themistocles at Magnesia, which were observed down to our times, and
were enjoyed by another Themistocles of Athens, with whom I had an
intimate acquaintance and friendship in the house of Ammonius the
philosopher.
CAMILLUS
Among the many remarkable things that are related of Furius Camillus,
it seems singular and strange above all, that he, who continually was
in the highest commands, and obtained the greatest successes, was five
times chosen dictator, triumphed four times, and was styled a second
founder of Rome, yet never was so much as once consul. The reason of
which was the state and temper of the commonwealth at that time; for
the people, being at dissension with the senate, refused to return
consuls, but in their stead elected other magistrates, called military
tribunes, who acted, indeed, with full consular power, but were thought
to exercise a less obnoxious amount of authority, because it was
divided among a larger number; for to have the management of affairs
entrusted in the hands of six persons rather than two was some
satisfaction to the opponents of oligarchy. This was the condition of
the times when Camillus was in the height of his actions and glory,
and, although the government in the meantime had often proceeded to
consular elections, yet he could never persuade himself to be consul
against the inclination of the people. In all his other
administrations, which were many and various, he so behaved himself,
that, when alone in authority, he exercised his power as in common, but
the honor of all actions redounded entirely to himself, even when in
joint commission with others; the reason of the former was his
moderation in command; of the latter, his great judgment and wisdom,
which gave him without controversy the first place.
The house of the Furii was not, at that time of any considerable
distinction; he, by his own acts, first raised himself to honor,
serving under Postumius Tubertus, dictator, in the great battle against
the Aequians and Volscians. For riding out from the rest of the army,
and in the charge receiving a wound in his thigh, he for all that did
not quit the fight, but, letting the dart drag in the wound, and
engaging with the bravest of the enemy, put them to flight; for which
action, among other rewards bestowed on him, he was created censor, an
office in those days of great repute and authority. During his
censorship one very good act of his is recorded, that, whereas the wars
had made many widows, he obliged such as had no wives, some by fair
persuasion, others by threatening to set fines on their heads, to take
them in marriage; another necessary one, in causing orphans to be
rated, who before were exempted from taxes, the frequent wars requiring
more than ordinary expenses to maintain them. What, however, pressed
them most was the siege of Veii. Some call this people Veientani. This
was the head city of Tuscany, not inferior to Rome, either in number of
arms or multitude of soldiers, insomuch that, presuming on her wealth
and luxury, and priding herself upon her refinement and sumptuousness,
she engaged in many honorable contests with the Romans for glory and
empire. But now they had abandoned their former ambitious hopes, having
been weakened by great defeats, so that, having fortified themselves
with high and strong walls, and furnished the city with all sorts of
weapons offensive and defensive, as likewise with corn and all manner
of provisions, they cheerfully endured a siege, which, though tedious
to them, was no less troublesome and distressing to the besiegers. For
the Romans, having never been accustomed to stay away from home, except
in summer, and for no great length of time, and constantly to winter at
home, were then first compelled by the tribunes to build forts in the
enemy's country, and, raising strong works about their camp, to join
winter and summer together. And now, the seventh year of the war
drawing to an end, the commanders began to be suspected as too slow and
remiss in driving on the siege, insomuch that they were discharged and
others chosen for the war, among whom was Camillus, then second time
tribune. But at present he had no hand in the siege, the duties that
fell by lot to him being to make war upon the Faliscans and Capenates,
who, taking advantage of the Romans being occupied on all hands, had
carried ravages into their country, and, through all the Tuscan war,
given them much annoyance, but were now reduced by Camillus, and with
great loss shut up within their walls.
And now, in the very heat of the war, a strange phenomenon in the Alban
lake, which, in the absence of any known cause and explanation by
natural reasons, seemed as great a prodigy as the most incredible that
are reported, occasioned great alarm. It was the beginning of autumn,
and the summer now ending had, to all observation, been neither rainy
nor much troubled with southern winds; and of the many lakes, brooks,
and springs of all sorts with which Italy abounds, some were wholly
dried up, others drew very little water with them; all the rivers, as
is usual in summer, ran in a very low and hollow channel. But the Alban
lake, that is fed by no other waters but its own, and is on all sides
encircled with fruitful mountains, without any cause, unless it were
divine, began visibly to rise and swell, increasing to the feet of the
mountains, and by degrees reaching the level of the very tops of them,
and all this without any waves or agitation. At first it was the wonder
of shepherds and herdsmen; but when the earth, which, like a great dam,
held up the lake from falling into the lower grounds, through the
quantity and weight of water was broken down, and in a violent stream
it ran through the plowed fields and plantations to discharge itself in
the sea, it not only struck terror into the Romans, but was thought by
all the inhabitants of Italy to portend some extraordinary event. But
the greatest talk of it was in the camp that besieged Veii, so that in
the town itself, also, the occurrence became known.
As in long sieges it commonly happens that parties on both sides meet
often and converse with one another, so it chanced that a Roman had
gained much confidence and familiarity with one of the besieged, a man
versed in ancient prophecies, and of repute for more than ordinary
skill in divination. The Roman, observing him to be overjoyed at the
story of the lake, and to mock at the siege, told him that this was not
the only prodigy that of late had happened to the Romans; others more
wonderful yet than this had befallen them, which he was willing to
communicate to him, that he might the better provide for his private
interests in these public distempers. The man greedily embraced the
proposal, expecting to hear some wonderful secrets; but when, by little
and little, he had led him on in conversation, and insensibly drawn him
a good way from the gates of the city, he snatched him up by the
middle, being stronger than he, and, by the assistance of others that
came running from the camp, seized and delivered him to the commanders.
The man, reduced to this necessity, and sensible now that destiny was
not to be avoided, discovered to them the secret oracles of Veii; that
it was not possible the city should be taken, until the Alban lake,
which now broke forth and had found out new passages, was drawn back
from that course, and so diverted that it could not mingle with the
sea. The senate, having heard and satisfied themselves about the
matter, decreed to send to Delphi, to ask counsel of the god. The
messengers were persons of the highest repute, Licinius Cossus,
Valerius Potitus, and Fabius Ambustus; who, having made their voyage by
sea and consulted the god, returned with other answers, particularly
that there had been a neglect of some of their national rites relating
to the Latin feasts; but the Alban water the oracle commanded, if it
were possible, they should keep from the sea, and shut it up in its
ancient bounds; but if that was not to be done, then they should carry
it off by ditches and trenches into the lower grounds, and so dry it
up; which message being delivered, the priests performed what related
to the sacrifices, and the people went to work and turned the water.
And now the senate, in the tenth year of the war, taking away all other
commands, created Camillus dictator, who chose Cornelius Scipio for his
general of horse. And in the first place he made vows unto the gods,
that, if they would grant a happy conclusion of the war, he would
celebrate to their honor the great games, and dedicate a temple to the
goddess whom the Romans call Matuta the Mother, though, from the
ceremonies which are used, one would think she was Leucothea. For they
take a servant-maid into the secret part of the temple, and there cuff
her, and drive her out again, and they embrace their brothers' children
in place of their own; and, in general, the ceremonies of the sacrifice
remind one of the nursing of Bacchus by Ino, and the calamities
occasioned by her husband's concubine. Camillus, having made these
vows, marched into the country of the Faliscans, and in a great battle
overthrew them and the Capenates, their confederates; afterwards he
turned to the siege of Veii, and, finding that to take it by assault
would prove a difficult and hazardous attempt, proceeded to cut mines
under ground, the earth about the city being easy to break up, and
allowing such depth for the works as would prevent their being
discovered by the enemy. This design going on in a hopeful way, he
openly gave assaults to the enemy, to keep them to the walls, whilst
they that worked underground in the mines were, without being
perceived, arrived within the citadel, close to the temple of Juno,
which was the greatest and most honored in all the city. It is said
that the prince of the Tuscans was at that very time at sacrifice, and
that the priest, after he had looked into the entrails of the beast,
cried out with a loud voice that the gods would give the victory to
those that should complete those offerings; and that the Romans who
were in the mines, hearing the words, immediately pulled down the
floor, and, ascending with noise and clashing of weapons, frightened
away the enemy, and, snatching up the entrails, carried them to
Camillus. But this may look like a fable. The city, however, being
taken by storm, and the soldiers busied in pillaging and gathering an
infinite quantity of riches and spoil, Camillus, from the high tower,
viewing what was done, at first wept for pity; and when they that were
by congratulated his good success, he lifted up his hands to heaven,
and broke out into this prayer: "O most mighty Jupiter, and ye gods
that are judges of good and evil actions, ye know that not without just
cause, but constrained by necessity, we have been forced to revenge
ourselves on the city of our unrighteous and wicked enemies. But if, in
the vicissitude of things, there be any calamity due, to counterbalance
this great felicity, I beg that it may be diverted from the city and
army of the Romans, and fall, with as little hurt as may be, upon my
own head." Having said these words, and just turning about (as the
custom of the Romans is to turn to the right after adoration or
prayer), he stumbled and fell, to the astonishment of all that were
present. But, recovering himself presently from the fall, he told them
that he had received what he had prayed for, a small mischance, in
compensation for the greatest good fortune.
Having sacked the city, he resolved, according as he had vowed, to
carry Juno's image to Rome; and, the workmen being ready for that
purpose, he sacrificed to the goddess, and made his supplications that
she would be pleased to accept of their devotion toward her, and
graciously vouchsafe to accept of a place among the gods that presided
at Rome; and the statue, they say, answered in a low voice that she was
ready and willing to go. Livy writes, that, in praying, Camillus
touched the goddess, and invited her, and that some of the standers-by
cried out that she was willing and would come. They who stand up for
the miracle and endeavor to maintain it have one great advocate on
their side in the wonderful fortune of the city, which, from a small
and contemptible beginning, could never have attained to that greatness
and power without many signal manifestations of the divine presence and
cooperation. Other wonders of the like nature, drops of sweat seen to
stand on statues, groans heard from them, the figures seen to turn
round and to close their eyes, are recorded by many ancient historians;
and we ourselves could relate divers wonderful things, which we have
been told by men of our own time, that are not lightly to be rejected;
but to give too easy credit to such things, or wholly to disbelieve
them, is equally dangerous, so incapable is human infirmity of keeping
any bounds, or exercising command over itself, running off sometimes to
superstition and dotage, at other times to the contempt and neglect of
all that is supernatural. But moderation is best, and to avoid all
extremes.
Camillus, however, whether puffed up with the greatness of his
achievement in conquering a city that was the rival of Rome, and had
held out a ten years' siege, or exalted with the felicitations of those
that were about him, assumed to himself more than became a civil and
legal magistrate; among other things, in the pride and haughtiness of
his triumph, driving through Rome in a chariot drawn with four white
horses, which no general either before or since ever did; for the
Romans consider such a mode of conveyance to be sacred, and specially
set apart to the king and father of the gods. This alienated the hearts
of his fellow-citizens, who were not accustomed to such pomp and
display.
The second pique they had against him was his opposing the law by which
the city was to be divided; for the tribunes of the people brought
forward a motion that the people and senate should be divided into two
parts, one of which should remain at home, the other, as the lot should
decide, remove to the new-taken city. By which means they should not
only have much more room, but by the advantage of two great and
magnificent cities, be better able to maintain their territories and
their fortunes in general. The people, therefore, who were numerous and
indigent, greedily embraced it, and crowded continually to the forum,
with tumultuous demands to have it put to the vote. But the senate and
the noblest citizens, judging the proceedings of the tribunes to tend
rather to a destruction than a division of Rome, greatly averse to it,
went to Camillus for assistance, who, fearing the result if it came to
a direct contest, contrived to occupy the people with other business,
and so staved it off. He thus became unpopular. But the greatest and
most apparent cause of their dislike against him arose from the tenths
of the spoil; the multitude having here, if not a just, yet a plausible
case against him. For it seems, as he went to the siege of Veii, he had
vowed to Apollo that if he took the city he would dedicate to him the
tenth of the spoil. The city being taken and sacked, whether he was
loath to trouble the soldiers at that time, or that through the
multitude of business he had forgotten his vow, he suffered them to
enjoy that part of the spoils also. Some time afterwards, when his
authority was laid down, he brought the matter before the senate, and
the priests, at the same time, reported, out of the sacrifices, that
there were intimations of divine anger, requiring propitiations and
offerings. The senate decreed the obligation to be in force.
But seeing it was difficult for every one to produce the very same
things they had taken, to be divided anew, they ordained that every one
upon oath should bring into the public the tenth part of his gains.
This occasioned many annoyances and hardships to the soldiers, who were
poor men, and had endured much in the war, and now were forced, out of
what they had gained and spent, to bring in so great a proportion.
Camillus, being assaulted by their clamor and tumults, for want of a
better excuse, betook himself to the poorest of defenses, confessing he
had forgotten his vow; they in turn complained that he had vowed the
tenth of the enemy's goods, and now levied it out of the tenths of the
citizens. Nevertheless, every one having brought in his due proportion,
it was decreed that out of it a bowl of massy gold should be made, and
sent to Delphi. And when there was great scarcity of gold in the city,
and the magistrates were considering where to get it, the Roman ladies,
meeting together and consulting among themselves, out of the golden
ornaments they wore contributed as much as went to the making the
offering, which in weight came to eight talents of gold. The senate, to
give them the honor they had deserved, ordained that funeral orations
should be used at the obsequies of women as well as men, it having
never before been a custom that any woman after death should receive
any public eulogy. Choosing out, therefore, three of the noblest
citizens as a deputation, they sent them in a vessel of war, well
manned and sumptuously adorned. Storm and calm at sea may both, they
say, alike be dangerous; as they at this time experienced, being
brought almost to the very brink of destruction, and, beyond all
expectation, escaping. For near the isles of Solus the wind slacking,
galleys of the Lipareans came upon them, taking them for pirates; and,
when they held up their hands as suppliants, forbore indeed from
violence, but took their ship in tow, and carried her into the harbor,
where they exposed to sale their goods and persons as lawful prize,
they being pirates; and scarcely, at last, by the virtue and interest
of one man, Timesitheus by name, who was in office as general, and used
his utmost persuasion, they were, with much ado, dismissed. He,
however, himself sent out some of his own vessels with them, to
accompany them in their voyage and assist them at the dedication; for
which he received honors at Rome, as he had deserved.
And now the tribunes of the people again resuming their motion for the
division of the city, the war against the Faliscans luckily broke out,
giving liberty to the chief citizens to choose what magistrates they
pleased, and to appoint Camillus military tribune, with five
colleagues; affairs then requiring a commander of authority and
reputation, as well as experience. And when the people had ratified the
election, he marched with his forces into the territories of the
Faliscans, and laid seige to Falerii, a well-fortified city, and
plentifully stored with all necessaries of war. And although he
perceived it would be no small work to take it, and no little time
would be required for it, yet he was willing to exercise the citizens
and keep them abroad, that they might have no leisure, idling at home,
to follow the tribunes in factions and seditions; a very common remedy,
indeed, with the Romans, who thus carried off, like good physicians,
the ill humors of their commonwealth. The Falerians, trusting in the
strength of their city, which was well fortified on all sides, made so
little account of the siege, that all, with the exception of those that
guarded the walls, as in times of peace, walked about the streets in
their common dress; the boys went to school, and were led by their
master to play and exercise about the town walls; for the Falerians,
like the Greeks, used to have a single teacher for many pupils, wishing
their children to live and be brought up from the beginning in each
other's company.
This schoolmaster, designing to betray the Falerians by their children,
led them out every day under the town wall, at first but a little way,
and, when they had exercised, brought them home again. Afterwards by
degrees he drew them farther and farther, till by practice he had made
them bold and fearless, as if no danger was about them; and at last,
having got them all together, he brought them to the outposts of the
Romans, and delivered them up, demanding to be led to Camillus. Where
being come, and standing in the middle, he said that he was the master
and teacher of these children, but, preferring his favor before all
other obligations, he was come to deliver up his charge to him, and, in
that, the whole city. When Camillus had heard him out, he was astounded
at the treachery of the act, and, turning to the standers-by, observed,
that "war, indeed, is of necessity attended with much injustice and
violence! Certain laws, however, all good men observe even in war
itself; nor is victory so great an object as to induce us to incur for
its sake obligations for base and impious acts. A great general should
rely on his own virtue, and not on other men's vices." Which said, he
commanded the officers to tear off the man's clothes, and bind his
hands behind him, and give the boys rods and scourges, to punish the
traitor and drive him back to the city. By this time the Falerians had
discovered the treachery of the schoolmaster, and the city, as was
likely, was full of lamentations and cries for their calamity, men and
women of worth running in distraction about the walls and gates; when,
behold, the boys came whipping their master on, naked and bound,
calling Camillus their preserver and god and father. Insomuch that it
struck not only into the parents, but the rest of the citizens that saw
what was done, such admiration and love of Camillus's justice, that,
immediately meeting in assembly, they sent ambassadors to him, to
resign whatever they had to his disposal. Camillus sent them to Rome,
where, being brought into the senate, they spoke to this purpose: that
the Romans, preferring justice before victory, had taught them rather
to embrace submission than liberty; they did not so much confess
themselves to be inferior in strength, as they must acknowledge them to
be superior in virtue. The senate remitted the whole matter to
Camillus, to judge and order as he thought fit; who, taking a sum of
money of the Falerians, and, making a peace with the whole nation of
the Faliscans, returned home.
But the soldiers, who had expected to have the pillage of the city,
when they came to Rome empty-handed, railed against Camillus among
their fellow-citizens, as a hater of the people, and one that grudged
all advantage to the poor. Afterwards, when the tribunes of the people
again brought their motion for dividing the city to the vote, Camillus
appeared openly against it, shrinking from no unpopularity, and
inveighing boldly against the promoters of it, and so urging and
constraining the multitude, that, contrary to their inclinations, they
rejected the proposal; but yet hated Camillus. Insomuch that, though a
great misfortune befell him in his family (one of his two sons dying of
a disease), commiseration for this could not in the least make them
abate of their malice. And, indeed, he took this loss with immoderate
sorrow, being a man naturally of a mild and tender disposition, and,
when the accusation was preferred against him, kept his house, and
mourned amongst the women of his family.
His accuser was Lucius Apuleius; the charge, appropriation of the
Tuscan spoils; certain brass gates, part of those spoils, were said to
be in his possession. The people were exasperated against him, and it
was plain they would take hold of any occasion to condemn him.
Gathering, therefore, together his friends and fellow-soldiers, and
such as had borne command with him, a considerable number in all, he
besought them that they would not suffer him to be unjustly overborne
by shameful accusations, and left the mock and scorn of his enemies.
His friends, having advised and consulted among themselves, made
answer, that, as to the sentence, they did not see how they could help
him, but that they would contribute to whatsoever fine should be set
upon him. Not able to endure so great an indignity, he resolved in his
anger to leave the city and go into exile; and so, having taken leave
of his wife and his son, he went silently to the gate of the city, and,
there stopping and turning round, stretched out his hands to the
Capitol, and prayed to the gods, that if, without any fault of his own,
but merely through the malice and violence of the people, he was driven
out into banishment, the Romans might quickly repent of it; and that
all mankind might witness their need for the assistance, and desire for
the return of Camillus.
Thus, like Achilles, having left his imprecations on the citizens, he
went into banishment; so that, neither appearing nor making defense, he
was condemned in the sum of fifteen thousand asses, which, reduced to
silver, makes one thousand five hundred drachmas; for the as was the
money of the time, ten of such copper pieces making the denarius, or
piece of ten. And there is not a Roman but believes that immediately
upon the prayers of Camillus a sudden judgment followed, and that he
received a revenge for the injustice done unto him; which though we
cannot think was pleasant, but rather grievous and bitter to him, yet
was very remarkable, and noised over the whole world; such a punishment
visited the city of Rome, an era of such loss and danger and disgrace
so quickly succeeded; whether it thus fell out by fortune, or it be the
office of some god not to see injured virtue go unavenged.
The first token that seemed to threaten some mischief to ensue was the
death of the censor Julius; for the Romans have a religious reverence
for the office of a censor, and esteem it sacred. The second was that,
just before Camillus went into exile, Marcus Caedicius, a person of no
great distinction, nor of the rank of senator, but esteemed a good and
respectable man, reported to the military tribunes a thing worthy their
consideration: that, going along the night before in the street called
the New Way, and being called by somebody in a loud voice, he turned
about, but could see no one, but heard a voice greater than human,
which said these words, "Go, Marcus Caedicius, and early in the morning
tell the military tribunes that they are shortly to expect the Gauls."
But the tribunes made a mock and sport with the story, and a little
after came Camillus's banishment.
The Gauls are of the Celtic race, and are reported to have been
compelled by their numbers to leave their country, which was
insufficient to sustain them all, and to have gone in search of other
homes. And being, many thousands of them, young men and able to bear
arms, and carrying with them a still greater number of women and young
children, some of them, passing the Riphaean mountains, fell upon the
Northern Ocean, and possessed themselves of the farthest parts of
Europe; others, seating themselves between the Pyrenean mountains and
the Alps, lived there a considerable time, near to the Senones and
Celtorii; but, afterwards tasting wine which was then first brought
them out of Italy, they were all so much taken with the liquor, and
transported with the hitherto unknown delight, that, snatching up their
arms and taking their families along with them, they marched directly
to the Alps, to find out the country which yielded such fruit,
pronouncing all others barren and useless. He that first brought wine
among them and was the chief instigator of their coming into Italy is
said to have been one Aruns, a Tuscan, a man of noble extraction, and
not of bad natural character, but involved in the following misfortune.
He was guardian to an orphan, one of the richest of the country, and
much admired for his beauty, whose name was Lucumo. From his childhood
he had been bred up with Aruns in his family and when now grown up did
not leave his house, professing to wish for the enjoyment of his
society. And thus for a great while he secretly enjoyed Aruns's wife,
corrupting her, and himself corrupted by her. But when they were both
so far gone in their passion that they could neither refrain their lust
nor conceal it, the young man seized the woman and openly sought to
carry her away. The husband, going to law, and finding himself
overpowered by the interest and money of his opponent, left his
country, and, hearing of the state of the Gauls, went to them and was
the conductor of their expedition into Italy.
At their first coming they at once possessed themselves of all that
country which anciently the Tuscans inhabited, reaching from the Alps
to both the seas, as the names themselves testify; for the North or
Adriatic Sea is named from the Tuscan city Adria, and that to the south
the Tuscan Sea simply. The whole country is rich in fruit trees, has
excellent pasture, and is well watered with rivers. It had eighteen
large and beautiful cities, well provided with all the means for
industry and wealth, and all the enjoyments and pleasures of life. The
Gauls cast out the Tuscans, and seated themselves in them. But this was
long before.
The Gauls at this time were besieging Clusium, a Tuscan city. The
Clusinians sent to the Romans for succor desiring them to interpose
with the barbarians by letters and ambassadors. There were sent three
of the family of the Fabii, persons of high rank and distinction in the
city. The Gauls received them courteously, from respect to the name of
Rome, and, giving over the assault which was then making upon the
walls, came to conference with them; when the ambassadors asking what
injury they had received of the Clusinians that they thus invaded their
city, Brennus, king of the Gauls, laughed and made answer, "The
Clusinians do us injury, in that, being able only to till a small
parcel of ground, they must needs possess a great territory, and will
not yield any part to us who are strangers, many in number, and poor.
In the same nature, O Romans, formerly the Albans, Fidenates, and
Ardeates, and now lately the Veientines and Capenates, and many of the
Faliscans and Volscians, did you injury; upon whom ye make war if they
do not yield you part of what they possess, make slaves of them, waste
and spoil their country, and ruin their cities; neither in so doing are
cruel or unjust, but follow that most ancient of all laws, which gives
the possessions of the feeble to the strong; which begins with God and
ends in the beasts; since all these, by nature, seek, the stronger to
have advantage over the weaker. Cease, therefore, to pity the
Clusinians whom we besiege, lest ye teach the Gauls to be kind and
compassionate to those that are oppressed by you." By this answer the
Romans, perceiving that Brennus was not to be treated with, went into
Clusium, and encouraged and stirred up the inhabitants to make a sally
with them upon the barbarians, which they did either to try their
strength or to show their own. The sally being made, and the fight
growing hot about the walls, one of the Fabii, Quintus Ambustus, being
well mounted, and setting spurs to his horse, made full against a Gaul,
a man of huge bulk and stature, whom he saw riding out at a distance
from the rest. At the first he was not recognized, through the
quickness of the conflict and the glittering of his armor, that
precluded any view of him; but when he had overthrown the Gaul, and was
going to gather the spoils, Brennus knew him; and, invoking the gods to
be witnesses, that, contrary to the known and common law of nations,
which is holily observed by all mankind, he who had come as an
ambassador had now engaged in hostility against him, he drew off his
men, and, bidding Clusium farewell, led his army directly to Rome. But
not wishing that it should look as if they took advantage of that
injury, and were ready to embrace any occasion of quarrel, he sent a
herald to demand the man in punishment, and in the meantime marched
leisurely on.
The senate being met at Rome, among many others that spoke against the
Fabii, the priests called fecials were the most decided, who, on the
religious ground, urged the senate that they should lay the whole guilt
and penalty of the fact upon him that committed it, and so exonerate
the rest. These fecials Numa Pompilius, the mildest and justest of
kings, constituted guardians of peace, and the judges and determiners
of all causes by which war may justifiably be made. The senate
referring the whole matter to the people, and the priests there, as
well as in the senate, pleading against Fabius, the multitude, however,
so little regarded their authority, that in scorn and contempt of it
they chose Fabius and the rest of his brothers military tribunes. The
Gauls, on hearing this, in great rage threw aside every delay, and
hastened on with all the speed they could make. The places through
which they marched, terrified with their numbers and the splendor of
their preparations for war, and in alarm at their violence and
fierceness, began to give up their territories as already lost, with
little doubt but their cities would quickly follow; contrary, however,
to expectation, they did no injury as they passed, nor took anything
from the fields; and, as they went by any city, cried out that they
were going to Rome; that the Romans only were their enemies, and that
they took all others for their friends.
Whilst the barbarians were thus hastening with all speed, the military
tribunes brought the Romans into the field to be ready to engage them,
being not inferior to the Gauls in number (for they were no less than
forty thousand foot), but most of them raw soldiers, and such as had
never handled a weapon before. Besides, they had wholly neglected all
religious usages, had not obtained favorable sacrifices, nor made
inquiries of the prophets, natural in danger and before battle. No less
did the multitude of commanders distract and confound their
proceedings; frequently before, upon less occasions, they had chosen a
single leader, with the title of dictator, being sensible of what great
importance it is in critical times to have the soldiers united under
one general with the entire and absolute control placed in his hands.
Add to all, the remembrance of Camillus's treatment, which made it now
seem a dangerous thing for officers to command without humoring their
soldiers. In this condition they left the city, and encamped by the
river Allia, about ten miles from Rome, and not far from the place
where it falls into the Tiber; and here the Gauls came upon them, and,
after a disgraceful resistance, devoid of order and discipline, they
were miserably defeated. The left wing was immediately driven into the
river, and there destroyed; the right had less damage by declining the
shock, and from the low grounds getting to the tops of the hills, from
whence most of them afterwards dropped into the city; the rest, as many
as escaped, the enemy being weary of the slaughter, stole by night to
Veii, giving up Rome and all that was in it for lost.
This battle was fought about the summer solstice, the moon being at
full, the very same day in which the sad disaster of the Fabii had
happened, when three hundred of that name were at one time cut off by
the Tuscans. But from this second loss and defeat the day got the name
of Alliensis, from the river Allia, and still retains it. The question
of unlucky days, whether we should consider any to be so, and whether
Heraclitus did well in upbraiding Hesiod for distinguishing them into
fortunate and unfortunate, as ignorant that the nature of every day is
the same, I have examined in another place; but upon occasion of the
present subject, I think it will not be amiss to annex a few examples
relating to this matter. On the fifth of their month Hippodromius,
which corresponds to the Athenian Hecatombaeon, the Boeotians gained
two signal victories, the one at Leuctra, the other at Ceressus, about
three hundred years before, when they overcame Lattamyas and the
Thessalians, both which asserted the liberty of Greece. Again, on the
sixth of Boedromion, the Persians were worsted by the Greeks at
Marathon; on the third, at Plataea, as also at Mycale; on the
twenty-fifth, at Arbela. The Athenians, about the full moon in
Boedromion, gained their sea- victory at Naxos under the conduct of
Chabrias; on the twentieth, at Salamis, as we have shown in our
treatise on Days. Thargelion was a very unfortunate month to the
barbarians, for in it Alexander overcame Darius's generals on the
Granicus; and the Carthaginians, on the twenty- fourth, were beaten by
Timoleon in Sicily, on which same day and month Troy seems to have been
taken, as Ephorus, Callisthenes, Damastes, and Phylarchus state. On the
other hand, the month Metagitnion, which in Boeotia is called Panemus,
was not very lucky to the Greeks; for on its seventh day they were
defeated by Antipater, at the battle in Cranon, and utterly ruined; and
before, at Chaeronea, were defeated by Philip; and on the very same
day, same month, and same year, those that went with Archidamus into
Italy were there cut off by the barbarians. The Carthaginians also
observe the twenty-first of the same month, as bringing with it the
largest number and the severest of their losses. I am not ignorant,
that, about the Feast of Mysteries, Thebes was destroyed the second
time by Alexander; and after that, upon the very twentieth of
Boedromion, on which day they lead forth the mystic Iacchus, the
Athenians received a garrison of the Macedonians. On the selfsame day
the Romans lost their army under Caepio by the Cimbrians, and in a
subsequent year, under the conduct of Lucullus, overcame the Armenians
and Tigranes. King Attalus and Pompey died both on their birthdays. One
could reckon up several that have had variety of fortune on the same
day. This day, meantime, is one of the unfortunate ones to the Romans,
and for its sake two others in every month; fear and superstition, as
the custom of it is, more and more prevailing. But I have discussed
this more accurately in my Roman Questions.
And now, after the battle, had the Gauls immediately pursued those that
fled, there had been no remedy but Rome must have wholly been ruined,
and all those who remained in it utterly destroyed; such was the terror
that those who escaped the battle brought with them into the city, and
with such distraction and confusion were themselves in turn infected.
But the Gauls, not imagining their victory to be so considerable, and
overtaken with the present joy, fell to feasting and dividing the
spoil, by which means they gave leisure to those who were for leaving
the city to make their escape, and to those that remained, to
anticipate and prepare for their coming. For they who resolved to stay
at Rome, abandoning the rest of the city, betook themselves to the
Capitol, which they fortified with the help of missiles and new works.
One of their principal cares was of their holy things, most of which
they conveyed into the Capitol. But the consecrated fire the vestal
virgins took, and fled with it, as likewise their other sacred things.
Some write that they have nothing in their charge but the ever-living
fire which Numa had ordained to be worshipped as the principle of all
things; for fire is the most active thing in nature, and all production
is either motion, or attended with motion; all the other parts of
matter, so long as they are without warmth, lie sluggish and dead, and
require the accession of a sort of soul or vitality in the principle of
heat; and upon that accession, in whatever way, immediately receive a
capacity either of acting or being acted upon. And thus Numa, a man
curious in such things, and whose wisdom made it thought that he
conversed with the Muses, consecrated fire, and ordained it to be kept
ever burning, as an image of that eternal power which orders and
actuates all things. Others say that this fire was kept burning in
front of the holy things, as in Greece, for purification, and that
there were other things hid in the most secret part of the temple,
which were kept from the view of all, except those virgins whom they
call vestals. The most common opinion was, that the image of Pallas,
brought into Italy by Aeneas, was laid up there; others say that the
Samothracian images lay there, telling a story how that Dardanus
carried them to Troy, and, when he had built the city, celebrated those
rites, and dedicated those images there; that after Troy was taken,
Aeneas stole them away, and kept them till his coming into Italy. But
they who profess to know more of the matter affirm that there are two
barrels, not of any great size, one of which stands open and has
nothing in it, the other full and sealed up; but that neither of them
may be seen but by the most holy virgins. Others think that they who
say this are misled by the fact that the virgins put most of their holy
things into two barrels at this time of the Gaulish invasion, and hid
them underground in the temple of Quirinus; and that from hence that
place to this day bears the name of Barrels.
However it be, taking the most precious and important things they had,
they fled away with them, shaping their course along the river side,
where Lucius Albinius, a simple citizen of Rome, who among others was
making his escape, overtook them, having his wife, children, and goods
in a cart; and, seeing the virgins dragging along in their arms the
holy things of the gods, in a helpless and weary condition, he caused
his wife and children to get down, and, taking out his goods, put the
virgins in the cart, that they might make their escape to some of the
Greek cities. This devout act of Albinius, and the respect he showed
thus signally to the gods at a time of such extremity, deserved not to
be passed over in silence. But the priests that belonged to other gods,
and the most elderly of the senators, men who had been consuls and had
enjoyed triumphs, could not endure to leave the city; but, putting on
their sacred and splendid robes, Fabius the high-priest performing the
office, they made their prayers to the gods, and, devoting themselves,
as it were, for their country, sat themselves down in their ivory
chairs in the forum, and in that posture expected the event.
On the third day after the battle, Brennus appeared with his army at
the city, and, finding the gates wide open and no guards upon the
walls, first began to suspect it was some design or stratagem, never
dreaming that the Romans were in so desperate a condition. But when he
found it to be so indeed, he entered at the Colline gate, and took
Rome, in the three hundred and sixtieth year, or a little more, after
it was built; if, indeed, it can be supposed probable that an exact
chronological statement has been preserved of events which were
themselves the cause of chronological difficulties about things of
later date; of the calamity itself, however, and of the fact of the
capture, some faint rumors seem to have passed at the time into Greece.
Heraclides Ponticus, who lived not long after these times, in his book
upon the Soul, relates that a certain report came from the west, that
an army, proceeding from the Hyperboreans, had taken a Greek city
called Rome, seated somewhere upon the great sea. But I do not wonder
that so fabulous and high-flown an author as Heraclides should
embellish the truth of the story with expressions about Hyperboreans
and the great sea. Aristotle the philosopher appears to have heard a
correct statement of the taking of the city by the Gauls, but he calls
its deliverer Lucius; whereas Camillus's surname was not Lucius, but
Marcus. But this is a matter of conjecture.
Brennus, having taken possession of Rome, set a strong guard about the
Capitol, and, going himself down into the forum, was there struck with
amazement at the sight of so many men sitting in that order and
silence, observing that they neither rose at his coming, nor so much as
changed color or countenance, but remained without fear or concern,
leaning upon their staves, and sitting quietly, looking at each other.
The Gauls, for a great while, stood wondering at the strangeness of the
sight not daring to approach or touch them, taking them for an assembly
of superior beings. But when one, bolder than the rest, drew near to
Marcus Papirius, and, putting forth his hand, gently touched his chin
and stroked his long beard, Papirius with his staff struck him a severe
blow on the head; upon which the barbarian drew his sword and slew him.
This was the introduction to the slaughter; for the rest, following his
example, set upon them all and killed them, and dispatched all others
that came in their way; and so went on to the sacking and pillaging the
houses, which they continued for many days ensuing. Afterwards, they
burnt them down to the ground and demolished them, being incensed at
those who kept the Capitol, because they would not yield to summons;
but, on the contrary, when assailed, had repelled them, with some loss,
from their defenses. This provoked them to ruin the whole city, and to
put to the sword all that came to their hands, young and old, men,
women, and children.
And now, the siege of the Capitol having lasted a good while, the Gauls
began to be in want of provision; and dividing their forces, part of
them stayed with their king at the siege, the rest went to forage the
country, ravaging the towns and villages where they came, but not all
together in a body, but in different squadrons and parties; and to such
a confidence had success raised them, that they carelessly rambled
about without the least fear or apprehension of danger. But the
greatest and best ordered body of their forces went to the city of
Ardea, where Camillus then sojourned, having, ever since his leaving
Rome, sequestered himself from all business, and taken to a private
life; but now he began to rouse up himself, and consider not how to
avoid or escape the enemy, but to find out an opportunity to be
revenged upon them. And perceiving that the Ardeatians wanted not men,
but rather enterprise, through the inexperience and timidity of their
officers, he began to speak with the young men, first, to the effect
that they ought not to ascribe the misfortune of the Romans to the
courage of their enemy, nor attribute the losses they sustained by rash
counsel to the conduct of men who had no title to victory; the event
had been only an evidence of the power of fortune; that it was a brave
thing even with danger to repel a foreign and barbarous invader, whose
end in conquering was like fire, to lay waste and destroy, but if they
would be courageous and resolute, he was ready to put an opportunity
into their hands to gain a victory without hazard at all. When he found
the young men embraced the thing, he went to the magistrates and
council of the city, and, having persuaded them also, he mustered all
that could bear arms, and drew them up within the walls, that they
might not be perceived by the enemy, who was near; who, having scoured
the country, and now returned heavy-laden with booty, lay encamped in
the plains in a careless and negligent posture, so that, with the night
ensuing upon debauch and drunkenness, silence prevailed through all the
camp. When Camillus learned this from his scouts, he drew out the
Ardeatians, and in the dead of the night, passing in silence over the
ground that lay between, came up to their works, and, commanding his
trumpets to sound and his men to shout and halloo, he struck terror
into them from all quarters; while drunkenness impeded and sleep
retarded their movements. A few, whom fear had sobered, getting into
some order, for awhile resisted; and so died with their weapons in
their hands. But the greatest part of them, buried in wine and sleep,
were surprised without their arms, and dispatched; and as many of them
as by the advantage of the night got out of the camp were the next day
found scattered abroad and wandering in the fields, and were picked up
by the horse that pursued them.
The fame of this action soon flew through the neighboring cities, and
stirred up the young men from various quarters to come and join
themselves with him. But none were so much concerned as those Romans
who escaped in the battle of Allia, and were now at Veii, thus
lamenting with themselves, "O heavens, what a commander has Providence
bereaved Rome of, to honor Ardea with his actions! And that city, which
brought forth and nursed so great a man, is lost and gone, and we,
destitute of a leader and shut up within strange walls, sit idle, and
see Italy ruined before our eyes. Come, let us send to the Ardeatians
to have back our general, or else, with weapons in our hands, let us go
thither to him; for he is no longer a banished man, nor we citizens,
having no country but what is in the possession of the enemy." To this
they all agreed, and sent to Camillus to desire him to take the
command; but he answered, that he would not, until they that were in
the Capitol should legally appoint him; for he esteemed them, as long
as they were in being, to be his country; that if they should command
him, he would readily obey; but against their consent he would
intermeddle with nothing. When this answer was returned, they admired
the modesty and temper of Camillus; but they could not tell how to find
a messenger to carry the intelligence to the Capitol, or rather,
indeed, it seemed altogether impossible for any one to get to the
citadel whilst the enemy was in full possession of the city. But among
the young men there was one Pontius Cominius, of ordinary birth, but
ambitious of honor, who proffered himself to run the hazard, and took
no letters with him to those in the Capitol, lest, if he were
intercepted, the enemy might learn the intentions of Camillus; but,
putting on a poor dress and carrying corks under it, he boldly traveled
the greatest part of the way by day, and came to the city when it was
dark; the bridge he could not pass, as it was guarded by the
barbarians; so that taking his clothes, which were neither many nor
heavy, and binding them about his head, he laid his body upon the
corks, and, swimming with them, got over to the city. And avoiding
those quarters where he perceived the enemy was awake, which he guessed
at by the lights and noise, he went to the Carmental gate, where there
was greatest silence, and where the hill of the Capitol is steepest,
and rises with craggy and broken rock. By this way he got up, though
with much difficulty, by the hollow of the cliff, and presented himself
to the guards, saluting them, and telling them his name; he was taken
in, and carried to the commanders. And a senate being immediately
called, he related to them in order the victory of Camillus, which they
had not heard of before, and the proceedings of the soldiers; urging
them to confirm Camillus in the command, as on him alone all their
fellow-countrymen outside the city would rely. Having heard and
consulted of the matter, the senate declared Camillus dictator, and
sent back Pontius the same way that he came, who, with the same success
as before, got through the enemy without being discovered, and
delivered to the Romans outside the decision of the senate, who
joyfully received it. Camillus, on his arrival, found twenty thousand
of them ready in arms; with which forces, and those confederates he
brought along with him, he prepared to set upon the enemy.
But at Rome some of the barbarians, passing by chance near the place at
which Pontius by night had got into the Capitol, spied in several
places marks of feet and hands, where he had laid hold and clambered,
and places where the plants that grew to the rock had been rubbed off,
and the earth had slipped, and went accordingly and reported it to the
king, who, coming in person, and viewing it, for the present said
nothing, but in the evening, picking out such of the Gauls as were
nimblest of body, and by living in the mountains were accustomed to
climb, he said to them, "The enemy themselves have shown us a way how
to come at them, which we knew not of before, and have taught us that
it is not so difficult and impossible but that men may overcome it. It
would be a great shame, having begun well, to fail in the end, and to
give up a place as impregnable, when the enemy himself lets us see the
way by which it may be taken; for where it was easy for one man to get
up, it will not be hard for many, one after another; nay, when many
shall undertake it, they will be aid and strength to each other.
Rewards and honors shall be bestowed on every man as he shall acquit
himself."
When the king had thus spoken, the Gauls cheerfully undertook to
perform it, and in the dead of night a good party of them together,
with great silence, began to climb the rock, clinging to the
precipitous and difficult ascent, which yet upon trial offered a way to
them, and proved less difficult than they had expected. So that the
foremost of them having gained the top of all, and put themselves into
order, they all but surprised the outworks, and mastered the watch, who
were fast asleep; for neither man nor dog perceived their coming. But
there were sacred geese kept near the temple of Juno, which at other
times were plentifully fed, but now, by reason that corn and all other
provisions were grown scarce for all, were but in a poor condition. The
creature is by nature of quick sense, and apprehensive of the least
noise, so that these, being moreover watchful through hunger, and
restless, immediately discovered the coming of the Gauls, and, running
up and down with their noise and cackling, they raised the whole camp,
while the barbarians on the other side, perceiving themselves
discovered, no longer endeavored to conceal their attempt, but with
shouting and violence advanced to the assault. The Romans, every one in
haste snatching up the next weapon that came to hand, did what they
could on the sudden occasion. Manlius, a man of consular dignity, of
strong body and great spirit, was the first that made head against
them, and, engaging with two of the enemy at once, with his sword cut
off the right arm of one just as he was lifting up his blade to strike,
and, running his target full in the face of the other, tumbled him
headlong down the steep rock; then mounting the rampart, and there
standing with others that came running to his assistance, drove down
the rest of them, who, indeed, to begin, had not been many, and did
nothing worthy of so bold an attempt. The Romans, having thus escaped
this danger, early in the morning took the captain of the watch and
flung him down the rock upon the heads of their enemies, and to Manlius
for his victory voted a reward, intended more for honor than advantage,
bringing him, each man of them, as much as he received for his daily
allowance, which was half a pound of bread, and one eighth of a pint of
wine.
Henceforward, the affairs of the Gauls were daily in a worse and worse
condition; they wanted provisions, being withheld from foraging through
fear of Camillus, and sickness also was amongst them, occasioned by the
number of carcasses that lay in heaps unburied. Being lodged among the
ruins, the ashes, which were very deep, blown about with the winds and
combining with the sultry heats, breathed up, so to say, a dry and
searching air, the inhalation of which was destructive to their health.
But the chief cause was the change from their natural climate, coming
as they did out of shady and hilly countries, abounding in means of
shelter from the heat, to lodge in low, and, in the autumn season, very
unhealthy ground; added to which was the length and tediousness of the
siege, as they had now sat seven months before the Capitol. There was,
therefore, a great destruction among them, and the number of the dead
grew so great, that the living gave up burying them. Neither, indeed,
were things on that account any better with the besieged, for famine
increased upon them, and despondency with not hearing any thing of
Camillus, it being impossible to send any one to him, the city was so
guarded by the barbarians. Things being in this sad condition on both
sides, a motion of treaty was made at first by some of the outposts, as
they happened to speak with one another; which being embraced by the
leading men, Sulpicius, tribune of the Romans, came to a parley with
Brennus, in which it was agreed, that the Romans laying down a thousand
weight of gold, the Gauls upon the receipt of it should immediately
quit the city and territories. The agreement being confirmed by oath on
both sides, and the gold brought forth, the Gauls used false dealing in
the weights, secretly at first, but afterwards openly pulled back and
disturbed the balance; at which the Romans indignantly complaining,
Brennus in a scoffing and insulting manner pulled off his sword and
belt, and threw them both into the scales; and when Sulpicius asked
what that meant, "What should it mean," says he, "but woe to the
conquered?" which afterwards became a proverbial saying. As for the
Romans, some were so incensed that they were for taking their gold back
again, and returning to endure the siege. Others were for passing by
and dissembling a petty injury, and not to account that the indignity
of the thing lay in paying more than was due, since the paying anything
at all was itself a dishonor only submitted to as a necessity of the
times.
Whilst this difference remained still unsettled, both amongst
themselves and with the Gauls, Camillus was at the gates with his army;
and, having learned what was going on, commanded the main body of his
forces to follow slowly after him in good order, and himself with the
choicest of his men hastening on, went at once to the Romans; where all
giving way to him, and receiving him as their sole magistrate, with
profound silence and order, he took the gold out of the scales, and
delivered it to his officers, and commanded the Gauls to take their
weights and scales and depart; saying that it was customary with the
Romans to deliver their country with iron, not with gold. And when
Brennus began to rage, and say that he was unjustly dealt with in such
a breach of contract, Camillus answered that it was never legally made,
and the agreement of no force or obligation; for that himself being
declared dictator, and there being no other magistrate by law, the
engagement had been made with men who had no power to enter into it;
but now they might say anything they had to urge, for he was come with
full power by law to grant pardon to such as should ask it, or inflict
punishment on the guilty, if they did not repent. At this, Brennus
broke into violent anger, and an immediate quarrel ensued; both sides
drew their swords and attacked, but in confusion, as could not
otherwise be amongst houses, and ill narrow lanes and places where it
was impossible to form in any order. But Brennus, presently
recollecting himself, called off his men, and, with the loss of a few
only, brought them to their camp; and, rising in the night with all his
forces, left the city, and, advancing about eight miles, encamped upon
the way to Gabii. As soon as day appeared, Camillus came up with him,
splendidly armed himself, and his soldiers full of courage and
confidence; and there engaging with him in a sharp conflict, which
lasted a long while, overthrew his army with great slaughter, and took
their camp. Of those that fled, some were presently cut off by the
pursuers; others, and these were the greatest number, dispersed hither
and thither, and were dispatched by the people that came sallying out
from the neighboring towns and villages.
Thus Rome was strangely taken, and more strangely recovered, having
been seven whole months in the possession of the barbarians who entered
her a little after the Ides of July, and were driven out about the Ides
of February following. Camillus triumphed, as he deserved, having saved
his country that was lost, and brought the city, so to say, back again
to itself. For those that had fled abroad, together with their wives
and children, accompanied him as he rode in; and those who had been
shut up in the Capitol, and were reduced almost to the point of
perishing with hunger, went out to meet him, embracing each other as
they met, and weeping for joy and, through the excess of the present
pleasure, scarce believing in its truth. And when the priests and
ministers of the gods appeared, bearing the sacred things, which in
their flight they had either hid on the spot, or conveyed away with
them, and now openly showed in safety, the citizens who saw the blessed
sight felt as if with these the gods themselves were again returned
unto Rome. After Camillus had sacrificed to the gods, and purified the
city according to the direction of those properly instructed, he
restored the existing temples, and erected a new one to Rumour, or
Voice, informing himself of the spot in which that voice from heaven
came by night to Marcus Caedicius, foretelling the coming of the
barbarian army.
It was a matter of difficulty, and a hard task, amidst so much rubbish,
to discover and redetermine the consecrated places; but by the zeal of
Camillus, and the incessant labor of the priests, it was at last
accomplished. But when it came also to rebuilding the city, which was
wholly demolished, despondency seized the multitude, and a backwardness
to engage in a work for which they had no materials; at a time, too,
when they rather needed relief and repose from their past labors, than
any new demands upon their exhausted strength and impaired fortunes.
Thus insensibly they turned their thoughts again towards Veii, a city
ready-built and well-provided, and gave an opening to the arts of
flatterers eager to gratify their desires, and lent their ears to
seditious language flung out against Camillus; as that, out of ambition
and self-glory, he withheld them from a city fit to receive them,
forcing them to live in the midst of ruins, and to re-erect a pile of
burnt rubbish, that he might be esteemed not the chief magistrate only
and general of Rome, but, to the exclusion of Romulus, its founder,
also. The senate, therefore, fearing a sedition, would not suffer
Camillus, though desirous, to lay down his authority within the year,
though no other dictator had ever held it above six months.
They themselves, meantime, used their best endeavors, by kind
persuasions and familiar addresses, to encourage and to appease the
people, showing them the shrines and tombs of their ancestors, calling
to their remembrance the sacred spots and holy places which Romulus and
Numa or any other of their kings had consecrated and left to their
keeping; and among the strongest religious arguments, urged the head,
newly separated from the body, which was found in laying the foundation
of the Capitol, marking it as a place destined by fate to be the head
of all Italy; and the holy fire which had just been rekindled again,
since the end of the war, by the vestal virgins; "What a disgrace would
it be to them to lose and extinguish this, leaving the city it belonged
to, to be either inhabited by strangers and new-comers, or left a wild
pasture for cattle to graze on?" Such reasons as these, urged with
complaint and expostulation, sometimes in private upon individuals, and
sometimes in their public assemblies, were met, on the other hand, by
laments and protestations of distress and helplessness; entreaties,
that, reunited as they just were, after a sort of shipwreck, naked and
destitute, they would not constrain them to patch up the pieces of a
ruined and shattered city, when they had another at hand ready-built
and prepared.
Camillus thought good to refer it to general deliberation, and himself
spoke largely and earnestly in behalf of his country, as also many
others. At last, calling to Lucius Lucretius, whose place it was to
speak first, he commanded him to give his sentence, and the rest as
they followed, in order. Silence being made, and Lucretius just about
to begin, by chance a centurion, passing by outside with his company of
the day-guard, called out with a loud voice to the ensign-bearer to
halt and fix his standard, for this was the best place to stay in. This
voice, coming in that moment of time, and at that crisis of uncertainty
and anxiety for the future, was taken as a direction what was to be
done; so that Lucretius, assuming an attitude of devotion, gave
sentence in concurrence with the gods, as he said, as likewise did all
that followed. Even among the common people it created a wonderful
change of feeling; every one now cheered and encouraged his neighbor,
and set himself to the work, proceeding in it, however, not by any
regular lines or divisions, but every one pitching upon that plot of
ground which came next to hand, or best pleased his fancy; by which
haste and hurry in building, they constructed their city in narrow and
ill-designed lanes, and with houses huddled together one upon another;
for it is said that within the compass of the year the whole city was
raised up anew, both in its public walls and private buildings. The
persons, however, appointed by Camillus to resume and mark out, in this
general confusion, all consecrated places, coming, in their way round
the Palatium, to the chapel of Mars, found the chapel itself indeed
destroyed and burnt to the ground, like everything else, by the
barbarians; but whilst they were clearing the place, and carrying away
the rubbish, lit upon Romulus's augural staff, buried under a great
heap of ashes. This sort of staff is crooked at one end, and is called
lituus; they make use of it in quartering out the regions of the
heavens when engaged in divination from the flight of birds; Romulus,
who was himself a great diviner, made use of it. But when he
disappeared from the earth, the priests took his staff and kept it, as
other holy things, from the touch of man; and when they now found that,
whereas all other things were consumed, this staff had altogether
escaped the flames, they began to conceive happier hopes of Rome, and
to augur from this token its future everlasting safety.
And now they had scarcely got a breathing time from their trouble, when
a new war came upon them; and the Aequians, Volscians, and Latins all
at once invaded their territories, and the Tuscans besieged Sutrium,
their confederate city. The military tribunes who commanded the army,
and were encamped about the hill Maecius, being closely besieged by the
Latins, and the camp in danger to be lost, sent to Rome, where Camillus
was a third time chosen dictator. Of this war two different accounts
are given; I shall begin with the more fabulous. They say that the
Latins (whether out of pretense, or a real design to revive the ancient
relationship of the two nations) sent to desire of the Romans some
free- born maidens in marriage; that when the Romans were at a loss how
to determine (for on one hand they dreaded a war, having scarcely yet
settled and recovered themselves, and on the other side suspected that
this asking of wives was, in plain terms, nothing else but a demand for
hostages, though covered over with the specious name of intermarriage
and alliance), a certain handmaid, by name Tutula, or, as some call
her, Philotis, persuaded the magistrates to send with her some of the
most youthful and best looking maid-servants, in the bridal dress of
noble virgins, and leave the rest to her care and management; that the
magistrates consenting, chose out as many as she thought necessary for
her purpose, and, adorning them with gold and rich clothes, delivered
them to the Latins, who were encamped not far from the city; that at
night the rest stole away the enemy's swords, but Tutula or Philotis,
getting to the top of a wild fig-tree, and spreading out a thick woolen
cloth behind her, held out a torch towards Rome, which was the signal
concerted between her and the commanders, without the knowledge,
however, of any other of the citizens, which was the reason that their
issuing out from the city was tumultuous, the officers pushing their
men on, and they calling upon one another's names, and scarce able to
bring themselves into order; that setting upon the enemy's works, who
either were asleep or expected no such matter, they took the camp, and
destroyed most of them; and that this was done on the nones of July,
which was then called Quintilis, and that the feast that is observed on
that day is a commemoration of what was then done. For in it, first,
they run out of the city in great crowds, and call out aloud several
familiar and common names, Caius, Marcus, Lucius, and the like, in
representation of the way in which they called to one another when they
went out in such haste. In the next place, the maid-servants, gaily
dressed, run about, playing and jesting upon all they meet, and amongst
themselves, also, use a kind of skirmishing, to show they helped in the
conflict against the Latins; and while eating and drinking, they sit
shaded over with boughs of wild fig-tree, and the day they call Nonae
Caprotinae, as some think from that wild fig-tree on which the maid-
servant held up her torch, the Roman name for a wild fig-tree being
caprificus. Others refer most of what is said or done at this feast to
the fate of Romulus, for, on this day, he vanished outside the gates in
a sudden darkness and storm (some think it an eclipse of the sun), and
from this, the day was called Nonae Caprotinae, the Latin for a goat
being capra, and the place where he disappeared having the name of
Goat's Marsh, as is stated in his life.
But the general stream of writers prefer the other account of this war,
which they thus relate. Camillus, being the third time chosen dictator,
and learning that the army under the tribunes was besieged by the
Latins and Volscians, was constrained to arm, not only those under, but
also those over, the age of service; and taking a large circuit round
the mountain Maecius, undiscovered by the enemy, lodged his army on
their rear, and then by many fires gave notice of his arrival. The
besieged, encouraged by this, prepared to sally forth and join battle;
but the Latins and Volscians, fearing this exposure to an enemy on both
sides, drew themselves within their works, and fortified their camp
with a strong palisade of trees on every side, resolving to wait for
more supplies from home, and expecting, also, the assistance of the
Tuscans, their confederates. Camillus, detecting their object, and
fearing to be reduced to the same position to which he had brought
them, namely, to be besieged himself, resolved to lose no time; and
finding their rampart was all of timber, and observing that a strong
wind constantly at sun- rising blew off from the mountains, after
having prepared a quantity of combustibles, about break of day he drew
forth his forces, commanding a part with their missiles to assault the
enemy with noise and shouting on the other quarter, whilst he, with
those that were to fling in the fire, went to that side of the enemy's
camp to which the wind usually blew, and there waited his opportunity.
When the skirmish was begun, and the sun risen, and a strong wind set
in from the mountains, he gave the signal of onset; and, heaping in an
infinite quantity of fiery matter, filled all their rampart with it, so
that the flame being fed by the close timber and wooden palisades, went
on and spread into all quarters. The Latins, having nothing ready to
keep it off or extinguish it, when the camp was now almost full of
fire, were driven back within a very small compass, and at last forced
by necessity to come into their enemy's hands, who stood before the
works ready armed and prepared to receive them; of these very few
escaped, while those that stayed in the camp were all a prey to the
fire, until the Romans, to gain the pillage, extinguished it.
These things performed, Camillus, leaving his son Lucius in the camp to
guard the prisoners and secure the booty, passed into the enemy's
country, where, having taken the city of the Aequians and reduced the
Volscians to obedience, he then immediately led his army to Sutrium,
not having heard what had befallen the Sutrians, but making haste to
assist them, as if they were still in danger and besieged by the
Tuscans. They, however, had already surrendered their city to their
enemies, and destitute of all things, with nothing left but their
clothes, met Camillus on the way, leading their wives and children, and
bewailing their misfortune. Camillus himself was struck with
compassion, and perceiving the soldiers weeping, and commiserating
their case, while the Sutrians hung about and clung to them, resolved
not to defer revenge, but that very day to lead his army to Sutrium;
conjecturing that the enemy, having just taken a rich and plentiful
city, without an enemy left within it, nor any from without to be
expected, would be found abandoned to enjoyment and unguarded. Neither
did his opinion fail him; he not only passed through their country
without discovery, but came up to their very gates and possessed
himself of the walls, not a man being left to guard them, but their
whole army scattered about in the houses, drinking and making merry.
Nay, when at last they did perceive that the enemy had seized the city,
they were so overloaded with meat and wine, that few were able so much
as to endeavor to escape, but either waited shamefully for their death
within doors, or surrendered themselves to the conqueror. Thus the city
of the Sutrians was twice taken in one day; and they who were in
possession lost it, and they who had lost regained it, alike by the
means of Camillus. For all which actions he received a triumph, which
brought him no less honor and reputation than the two former ones; for
those citizens who before most regarded him with an evil eye, and
ascribed his successes to a certain luck rather than real merit, were
compelled by these last acts of his to allow the whole honor to his
great abilities and energy.
Of all the adversaries and enviers of his glory, Marcus Manlius was the
most distinguished, he who first drove back the Gauls when they made
their night attack upon the Capitol, and who for that reason had been
named Capitolinus. This man, affecting the first place in the
commonwealth, and not able by noble ways to outdo Camillus's
reputation, took that ordinary course towards usurpation of absolute
power, namely, to gain the multitude, those of them especially that
were in debt; defending some by pleading their causes against their
creditors, rescuing others by force, and not suffering the law to
proceed against them; insomuch that in a short time he got great
numbers of indigent people about him, whose tumults and uproars in the
forum struck terror into the principal citizens. After that Quintius
Capitolinus, who was made dictator to suppress these disorders, had
committed Manlius to prison, the people immediately changed their
apparel, a thing never done but in great and public calamities, and the
senate, fearing some tumult, ordered him to be released. He, however,
when set at liberty, changed not his course, but was rather the more
insolent in his proceedings, filling the whole city with faction and
sedition. They chose, therefore, Camillus again military tribune; and a
day being appointed for Manlius to answer to his charge, the prospect
from the place where his trial was held proved a great impediment to
his accusers; for the very spot where Manlius by night fought with the
Gauls overlooked the forum from the Capitol, so that, stretching forth
his hands that way, and weeping, he called to their remembrance his
past actions, raising compassion in all that beheld him. Insomuch that
the judges were at a loss what to do, and several times adjourned the
trial, unwilling to acquit him of the crime, which was sufficiently
proved, and yet unable to execute the law while his noble action
remained, as it were, before their eyes. Camillus, considering this,
transferred the court outside the gates to the Peteline Grove, from
whence there is no prospect of the Capitol. Here his accuser went on
with his charge, and his judges were capable of remembering and duly
resenting his guilty deeds. He was convicted, carried to the Capitol,
and flung headlong from the rock; so that one and the same spot was
thus the witness of his greatest glory, and monument of his most
unfortunate end. The Romans, besides, razed his house, and built there
a temple to the goddess they call Moneta, ordaining for the future that
none of the patrician order should ever dwell on the Capitoline.
And now Camillus, being called to his sixth tribuneship, desired to be
excused, as being aged, and perhaps not unfearful of the malice of
fortune, and those reverses which seem to ensue upon great prosperity.
But the most apparent pretense was the weakness of his body, for he
happened at that time to be sick; the people, however, would admit of
no excuses, but, crying that they wanted not his strength for horse or
for foot service, but only his counsel and conduct, constrained him to
undertake the command, and with one of his fellow-tribunes to lead the
army immediately against the enemy. These were the Praenestines and
Volscians, who, with large forces, were laying waste the territory of
the Roman confederates. Having marched out with his army, he sat down
and encamped near the enemy, meaning himself to protract the war, or if
there should come any necessity or occasion of fighting, in the mean
time to regain his strength. But Lucius Furius, his colleague, carried
away with the desire of glory, was not to be held in, but, impatient to
give battle, inflamed the inferior officers of the army with the same
eagerness; so that Camillus, fearing he might seem out of envy to be
wishing to rob the young men of the glory of a noble exploit,
consented, though unwillingly, that he should draw out the forces,
whilst himself, by reason of weakness, stayed behind with a few in the
camp. Lucius, engaging rashly, was discomfited, when Camillus,
perceiving the Romans to give ground and fly, could not contain
himself, but, leaping from his bed, with those he had about him ran to
meet them at the gates of the camp, making his way through the flyers
to oppose the pursuers; so that those who had got within the camp
turned back at once and followed him, and those that came flying from
without made head again and gathered about him, exhorting one another
not to forsake their general. Thus the enemy for that time, was stopped
in his pursuit. The next day Camillus drawing out his forces and
joining battle with them, overthrew them by main force, and, following
close upon them, entered pell-mell with them into their camp and took
it, slaying the greatest part of them. Afterwards, having heard that
the city Satricum was taken by the Tuscans, and the inhabitants, all
Romans, put to the sword, he sent home to Rome the main body of his
forces and heaviest-armed, and, taking with him the lightest and most
vigorous soldiers, set suddenly upon the Tuscans, who were in the
possession of the city, and mastered them, slaying some and expelling
the rest; and so, returning to Rome with great spoils, gave signal
evidence of their superior wisdom, who, not mistrusting the weakness
and age of a commander endued with courage and conduct, had rather
chosen him who was sickly and desirous to be excused, than younger men
who were forward and ambitious to command.
When, therefore, the revolt of the Tusculans was reported, they gave
Camillus the charge of reducing them, choosing one of his five
colleagues to go with him. And when every one was eager for the place,
contrary to the expectation of all, he passed by the rest and chose
Lucius Furius, the very same man who lately, against the judgment of
Camillus, had rashly hazarded and nearly lost a battle; willing, as it
should seem, to dissemble that miscarriage, and free him from the shame
of it. The Tusculans, hearing of Camillus's coming against them, made a
cunning attempt at revoking their act of revolt; their fields, as in
times of highest peace, were full of plowman and shepherds; their gates
stood wide open, and their children were being taught in the schools;
of the people, such as were tradesmen, he found in their workshops,
busied about their several employments, and the better sort of citizens
walking in the public places in their ordinary dress; the magistrates
hurried about to provide quarters for the Romans, as if they stood in
fear of no danger and were conscious of no fault. Which arts, though
they could not dispossess Camillus of the conviction he had of their
treason, yet induced some compassion for their repentance; he commanded
them to go to the senate and deprecate their anger, and joined himself
as an intercessor in their behalf, so that their city was acquitted of
all guilt and admitted to Roman citizenship, These were the most
memorable actions of his sixth tribuneship.
After these things, Licinius Stolo raised a great sedition in the city,
and brought the people to dissension with the senate, contending, that
of two consuls one should be chosen out of the commons, and not both
out of the patricians. Tribunes of the people were chosen, but the
election of consuls was interrupted and prevented by the people. And as
this absence of any supreme magistrate was leading to yet further
confusion, Camillus was the fourth time created dictator by the senate,
sorely against the people's will, and not altogether in accordance with
his own; he had little desire for a conflict with men whose past
services entitled them to tell him that he had achieved far greater
actions in war along with them than in politics with the patricians,
who, indeed, had only put him forward now out of envy; that, if
successful, he might crush the people, or, failing, be crushed himself.
However, to provide as good a remedy as he could for the present,
knowing the day on which the tribunes of the people intended to prefer
the law, he appointed it by proclamation for a general muster, and
called the people from the forum into the Campus, threatening to set
heavy fines upon such as should not obey. On the other side, the
tribunes of the people met his threats by solemnly protesting they
would fine him in fifty thousand drachmas of silver, if he persisted in
obstructing the people from giving their suffrages for the law. Whether
it were, then, that he feared another banishment or condemnation which
would ill become his age and past great actions, or found himself
unable to stem the current of the multitude, which ran strong and
violent, he betook himself, for the present, to his house, and
afterwards, for some days together, professing sickness, finally laid
down his dictatorship. The senate created another dictator; who,
choosing Stolo, leader of the sedition, to be his general of horse,
suffered that law to be enacted and ratified, which was most grievous
to the patricians, namely, that no person whatsoever should possess
above five hundred acres of land. Stolo was much distinguished by the
victory he had gained; but, not long after, was found himself to
possess more than he had allowed to others, and suffered the penalties
of his own law.
And now the contention about election of consuls coming on (which was
the main point and original cause of the dissension, and had
throughtout furnished most matter of division between the senate and
the people), certain intelligence arrived, that the Gauls again,
proceeding from the Adriatic Sea, were marching in vast numbers upon
Rome. On the very heels of the report followed manifest acts also of
hostility; the country through which they marched was all wasted, and
such as by flight could not make their escape to Rome were dispersing
and scattering among the mountains. The terror of this war quieted the
sedition; nobles and commons, senate and people together, unanimously
chose Camillus the fifth time dictator; who, though very aged, not
wanting much of fourscore years, yet, considering the danger and
necessity of his country, did not, as before, pretend sickness, or
depreciate his own capacity, but at once undertook the charge, and
enrolled soldiers. And, knowing that the great force of the barbarians
lay chiefly in their swords, with which they laid about them in a rude
and inartificial manner, hacking and hewing the head and shoulders, he
caused head-pieces entire of iron to be made for most of his men,
smoothing and polishing the outside, that the enemy's swords, lighting
upon them, might either slide off or be broken; and fitted also their
shields with a little rim of brass, the wood itself not being
sufficient to bear off the blows. Besides, he taught his soldiers to
use their long javelins in close encounter, and, by bringing them under
their enemy's swords, to receive their strokes upon them.
When the Gauls drew near, about the river Anio, dragging a heavy camp
after them, and loaded with infinite spoil, Camillus drew forth his
forces, and planted himself upon a hill of easy ascent, and which had
many dips in it, with the object that the greatest part of his army
might lie concealed, and those who appeared might be thought to have
betaken themselves, through fear, to those upper grounds. And the more
to increase this opinion in them, he suffered them, without any
disturbance, to spoil and pillage even to his very trenches, keeping
himself quiet within his works, which were well fortified; till, at
last, perceiving that part of the enemy were scattered about the
country foraging, and that those that were in the camp did nothing day
and night but drink and revel, in the nighttime he drew up his
lightest-armed men, and sent them out before to impede the enemy while
forming into order, and to harass them when they should first issue out
of their camp; and early in the morning brought down his main body, and
set them in battle array in the lower grounds, a numerous and
courageous army, not, as the barbarians had supposed, an inconsiderable
and fearful division. The first thing that shook the courage of the
Gauls was, that their enemies had, contrary to their expectation, the
honor of being aggressors. In the next place, the light-armed men,
falling upon them before they could get into their usual order or range
themselves in their proper squadrons, so disturbed and pressed upon
them, that they were obliged to fight at random, without any order at
all. But at last, when Camillus brought on his heavy-armed legions, the
barbarians, with their swords drawn, went vigorously to engage them;
the Romans, however, opposing their javelins and receiving the force of
their blows on those parts of their defenses which were well guarded
with steel, turned the edge of their weapons, being made of a soft and
ill-tempered metal, so that their swords bent and doubled up in their
hands; and their shields were pierced through and through, and grew
heavy with the javelins that stuck upon them. And thus forced to quit
their own weapons, they endeavored to take advantage of those of their
enemies, laid hold of the javelins with their hands, and tried to pluck
them away. But the Romans, perceiving them now naked and defenseless,
betook themselves to their swords, which they so well used, that in a
little time great slaughter was made in the foremost ranks, while the
rest fled over all parts of the level country; the hills and upper
grounds Camillus had secured beforehand, and their camp they knew it
would not be difficult for the enemy to take, as, through confidence of
victory, they had left it unguarded. This fight, it is stated, was
thirteen years after the sacking of Rome; and from henceforward the
Romans took courage, and surmounted the apprehensions they had hitherto
entertained of the barbarians, whose previous defeat they had
attributed rather to pestilence and a concurrence of mischances than to
their own superior valor. And, indeed, this fear had been formerly so
great, that they made a law, that priests should be excused from
service in war, unless in an invasion from the Gauls.
This was the last military action that ever Camillus performed; for the
voluntary surrender of the city of the Velitrani was but a mere
accessory to it. But the greatest of all civil contests, and the
hardest to be managed, was still to be fought out against the people;
who, returning home full of victory and success, insisted, contrary to
established law, to have one of the consuls chosen out of their own
body. The senate strongly opposed it, and would not suffer Camillus to
lay down his dictatorship, thinking, that, under the shelter of his
great name and authority, they should be better able to contend for the
power of the aristocracy. But when Camillus was sitting upon the
tribunal, dispatching public affairs, an officer, sent by the tribunes
of the people, commanded him to rise and follow him, laying his hand
upon him, as ready to seize and carry him away; upon which, such a
noise and tumult as was never heard before, filled the whole forum;
some that were about Camillus thrusting the officer from the bench, and
the multitude below calling out to him to bring Camillus down. Being at
a loss what to do in these difficulties, he yet laid not down his
authority, but, taking the senators along with him, he went to the
senate-house; but before he entered, besought the gods that they would
bring these troubles to a happy conclusion, solemnly vowing, when the
tumult was ended, to build a temple to Concord. A great conflict of
opposite opinions arose in the senate; but, at last, the most moderate
and most acceptable to the people prevailed, and consent was given,
that of two consuls, one should be chosen from the commonalty. When the
dictator proclaimed this determination of the senate to the people, at
the moment, pleased and reconciled with the senate, as indeed could not
otherwise be, they accompanied Camillus home, with all expressions and
acclamations of joy; and the next day, assembling together, they voted
a temple of Concord to be built, according to Camillus's vow, facing
the assembly and the forum; and to the feasts, called the Latin
holidays, they added one day more, making four in all; and ordained
that, on the present occasion, the whole people of Rome should
sacrifice with garlands on their heads.
In the election of consuls held by Camillus, Marcus Aemilius was chosen
of the patricians, and Lucius Sextius the first of the commonalty; and
this was the last of all Camillus's actions. In the year following, a
pestilential sickness infected Rome, which, besides an infinite number
of the common people, swept away most of the magistrates, among whom
was Camillus; whose death cannot be called immature, if we consider his
great age, or greater actions, yet was he more lamented than all the
rest put together that then died of that distemper.
PERICLES
Caesar once, seeing some wealthy strangers at Rome, carrying up and
down with them in their arms and bosoms young puppy-dogs and monkeys,
embracing and making much of them, took occasion not unnaturally to ask
whether the women in their country were not used to bear children; by
that prince-like reprimand gravely reflecting upon persons who spend
and lavish upon brute beasts that affection and kindness which nature
has implanted in us to be bestowed on those of our own kind. With like
reason may we blame those who misuse that love of inquiry and
observation which nature has implanted in our souls, by expending it on
objects unworthy of the attention either of their eyes or their ears,
while they disregard such as are excellent in themselves, and would do
them good.
The mere outward sense, being passive in responding to the impression
of the objects that come in its way and strike upon it, perhaps cannot
help entertaining and taking notice of everything that addresses it, be
it what it will, useful or unuseful; but, in the exercise of his mental
perception, every man, if he chooses, has a natural power to turn
himself upon all occasions, and to change and shift with the greatest
ease to what he shall himself judge desirable. So that it becomes a
man's duty to pursue and make after the best and choicest of
everything, that he may not only employ his contemplation, but may also
be improved by it. For as that color is most suitable to the eye whose
freshness and pleasantness stimulates and strengthens the sight, so a
man ought to apply his intellectual perception to such objects as, with
the sense of delight, are apt to call it forth, and allure it to its
own proper good and advantage.
Such objects we find in the acts of virtue, which also produce in the
minds of mere readers about them, an emulation and eagerness that may
lead them on to imitation. In other things there does not immediately
follow upon the admiration and liking of the thing done, any strong
desire of doing the like. Nay, many times, on the very contrary, when
we are pleased with the work, we slight and set little by the workman
or artist himself, as, for instance, in perfumes and purple dyes, we
are taken with the things themselves well enough, but do not think
dyers and perfumers otherwise than low and sordid people. It was not
said amiss by Antisthenes, when people told him that one Ismenias was
an excellent piper, "It may be so," said he, "but he is but a wretched
human being, otherwise he would not have been an excellent piper." And
king Philip, to the same purpose, told his son Alexander, who once at a
merry-meeting played a piece of music charmingly and skillfully, "Are
you not ashamed, son, to play so well?" For it is enough for a king, or
prince to find leisure sometimes to hear others sing, and he does the
muses quite honor enough when he pleases to be but present, while
others engage in such exercises and trials of skill.
He who busies himself in mean occupations produces, in the very pains
he takes about things of little or no use, an evidence against himself
of his negligence and indisposition to what is really good. Nor did any
generous and ingenuous young man, at the sight of the statue of Jupiter
at Pisa, ever desire to be a Phidias, or, on seeing that of Juno at
Argos, long to be a Polycletus, or feel induced by his pleasure in
their poems to wish to be an Anacreon or Philetas or Archilochus. For
it does not necessarily follow, that, if a piece of work please for its
gracefulness, therefore he that wrought it deserves our admiration.
Whence it is that neither do such things really profit or advantage the
beholders, upon the sight of which no zeal arises for the imitation of
them, nor any impulse or inclination, which may prompt any desire or
endeavor of doing the like. But virtue, by the bare statement of its
actions, can so affect men's minds as to create at once both admiration
of the things done and desire to imitate the doers of them. The goods
of fortune we would possess and would enjoy; those of virtue we long to
practice and exercise; we are content to receive the former from
others, the latter we wish others to experience from us. Moral good is
a practical stimulus; it is no sooner seen, than it inspires an impulse
to practice; and influences the mind and character not by a mere
imitation which we look at, but, by the statement of the fact, creates
a moral purpose which we form.
And so we have thought fit to spend our time and pains in writing of
the lives of famous persons; and have composed this tenth book upon
that subject, containing the life of Pericles, and that of Fabius
Maximus, who carried on the war against Hannibal, men alike, as in
their other virtues and good parts, so especially in their mild and
upright temper and demeanor, and in that capacity to bear the
cross-grained humors of their fellow-citizens and colleagues in office
which made them both most useful and serviceable to the interests of
their countries. Whether we take a right aim at our intended purpose,
it is left to the reader to judge by what he shall here find.
Pericles was of the tribe Acamantis, and the township Cholargus, of the
noblest birth both on his father's and mother's side. Xanthippus, his
father, who defeated the king of Persia's generals in the battle at
Mycale, took to wife Agariste, the grandchild of Clisthenes, who drove
out the sons of Pisistratus, and nobly put an end to their tyrannical
usurpation, and moreover made a body of laws, and settled a model of
government admirably tempered and suited for the harmony and safety of
the people.
His mother, being near her time, fancied in a dream that she was
brought to bed of a lion, and a few days after was delivered of
Pericles, in other respects perfectly formed, only his head was
somewhat longish and out of proportion. For which reason almost all the
images and statues that were made of him have the head covered with a
helmet, the workmen apparently being willing not to expose him. The
poets of Athens called him Schinocephalos, or squill-head, from
schinos, a squill, or sea- onion. One of the comic poets, Cratinus, in
the Chirons, tells us that --
Old Chronos once took queen Sedition to wife;
Which two brought to life
That tyrant far-famed,
Whom the gods the supreme skull-compeller have named.
And, in the Nemesis, addresses him --
Come, Jove, thou head of gods.
And a second, Teleclides, says, that now, in embarrassment with
political difficulties, he sits in the city,--
Fainting underneath the load
Of his own head; and now abroad,
From his huge gallery of a pate,
Sends forth trouble to the state.
And a third, Eupolis, in the comedy called the Demi, in a series of
questions about each of the demagogues, whom he makes in the play to
come up from hell, upon Pericles being named last, exclaims,--
And here by way of summary, now we've done,
Behold, in brief, the heads of all in one.
The master that taught him music, most authors are agreed, was Damon
(whose name, they say, ought to be pronounced with the first syllable
short). Though Aristotle tells us that he was thoroughly practiced in
all accomplishments of this kind by Pythoclides. Damon, it is not
unlikely, being a sophist, out of policy, sheltered himself under the
profession of music to conceal from people in general his skill in
other things, and under this pretense attended Pericles, the young
athlete of politics, so to say, as his training-master in these
exercises. Damon's lyre, however, did not prove altogether a successful
blind; he was banished the country by ostracism for ten years, as a
dangerous intermeddler and a favorer of arbitrary power, and, by this
means, gave the stage occasion to play upon him. As, for instance,
Plato, the comic poet, introduces a character, who questions him --
Tell me, if you please,
Since you're the Chiron who taught Pericles.
Pericles, also, was a hearer of Zeno, the Eleatic, who treated of
natural philosophy in the same manner as Parmenides did, but had also
perfected himself in an art of his own for refuting and silencing
opponents in argument; as Timon of Phlius describes it, --
Also the two-edged tongue of mighty Zeno, who,
Say what one would, could argue it untrue.
But he that saw most of Pericles, and furnished him most especially
with a weight and grandeur of sense, superior to all arts of
popularity, and in general gave him his elevation and sublimity of
purpose and of character, was Anaxagoras of Clazomenae; whom the men of
those times called by the name of Nous, that is, mind, or intelligence,
whether in admiration of the great and extraordinary gift he displayed
for the science of nature, or because that he was the first of the
philosophers who did not refer the first ordering of the world to
fortune or chance, nor to necessity or compulsion, but to a pure,
unadulterated intelligence, which in all other existing mixed and
compound things acts as a principle of discrimination, and of
combination of like with like.
For this man, Pericles entertained an extraordinary esteem and
admiration, and, filling himself with this lofty, and, as they call it,
up-in-the-air sort of thought, derived hence not merely, as was
natural, elevation of purpose and dignity of language, raised far above
the base and dishonest buffooneries of mob-eloquence, but, besides
this, a composure of countenance, and a serenity and calmness in all
his movements, which no occurrence whilst he was speaking could
disturb, a sustained and even tone of voice, and various other
advantages of a similar kind, which produced the greatest effect on his
hearers. Once, after being reviled and ill-spoken of all day long in
his own hearing by some vile and abandoned fellow in the open
marketplace, where he was engaged in the dispatch of some urgent
affair, he continued his business in perfect silence, and in the
evening returned home composedly, the man still dogging him at the
heels, and pelting him all the way with abuse and foul language; and
stepping into his house, it being by this time dark, he ordered one of
his servants to take a light, and to go along with the man and see him
safe home. Ion, it is true, the dramatic poet, says that Pericles's
manner in company was somewhat over-assuming and pompous; and that into
his high bearing there entered a good deal of slightingness and scorn
of others; he reserves his commendation for Cimon's ease and pliancy
and natural grace in society. Ion, however, who must needs make virtue,
like a show of tragedies, include some comic scenes, we shall not
altogether rely upon; Zeno used to bid those who called Pericles's
gravity the affectation of a charlatan, to go and affect the like
themselves; inasmuch as this mere counterfeiting might in time
insensibly instill into them a real love and knowledge of those noble
qualities.
Nor were these the only advantages which Pericles derived from
Anaxagoras's acquaintance; he seems also to have become, by his
instructions, superior to that superstition with which an ignorant
wonder at appearances, for example, in the heavens possesses the minds
of people unacquainted with their causes, eager for the supernatural,
and excitable through an inexperience which the knowledge of natural
causes removes, replacing wild and timid superstition by the good hope
and assurance of an intelligent piety.
There is a story, that once Pericles had brought to him from a country
farm of his, a ram's head with one horn, and that Lampon, the diviner,
upon seeing the horn grow strong and solid out of the midst of the
forehead, gave it as his judgment, that, there being at that time two
potent factions, parties, or interests in the city, the one of
Thucydides and the other of Pericles, the government would come about
to that one of them in whose ground or estate this token or indication
of fate had shown itself. But that Anaxagoras, cleaving the skull in
sunder, showed to the bystanders that the brain had not filled up its
natural place, but being oblong, like an egg, had collected from all
parts of the vessel which contained it, in a point to that place from
whence the root of the horn took its rise. And that, for that time,
Anaxagoras was much admired for his explanation by those that were
present; and Lampon no less a little while after, when Thucydides was
overpowered, and the whole affairs of the state and government came
into the hands of Pericles.
And yet, in my opinion, it is no absurdity to say that they were both
in the right, both natural philosopher and diviner, one justly
detecting the cause of this event, by which it was produced, the other
the end for which it was designed. For it was the business of the one
to find out and give an account of what it was made, and in what manner
and by what means it grew as it did; and of the other to foretell to
what end and purpose it was so made, and what it might mean or portend.
Those who say that to find out the cause of a prodigy is in effect to
destroy its supposed signification as such, do not take notice that, at
the same time, together with divine prodigies, they also do away with
signs and signals of human art and concert, as, for instance, the
clashings of quoits, fire-beacons, and the shadows on sun-dials, every
one of which things has its cause, and by that cause and contrivance is
a sign of something else. But these are subjects, perhaps, that would
better befit another place.
Pericles, while yet but a young man, stood in considerable apprehension
of the people, as he was thought in face and figure to be very like the
tyrant Pisistratus, and those of great age remarked upon the sweetness
of his voice, and his volubility and rapidity in speaking, and were
struck with amazement at the resemblance. Reflecting, too, that he had
a considerable estate, and was descended of a noble family, and had
friends of great influence, he was fearful all this might bring him to
be banished as a dangerous person; and for this reason meddled not at
all with state affairs, but in military service showed himself of a
brave and intrepid nature. But when Aristides was now dead, and
Themistocles driven out, and Cimon was for the most part kept abroad by
the expeditions he made in parts out of Greece, Pericles, seeing things
in this posture, now advanced and took his side, not with the rich and
few, but with the many and poor, contrary to his natural bent, which
was far from democratical; but, most likely, fearing he might fall
under suspicion of aiming at arbitrary power, and seeing Cimon on the
side of the aristocracy, and much beloved by the better and more
distinguished people, he joined the party of the people, with a view at
once both to secure himself and procure means against Cimon.
He immediately entered, also, on quite a new course of life and
management of his time. For he was never seen to walk in any street but
that which led to the marketplace and the council-hall, and he avoided
invitations of friends to supper, and all friendly visiting and
intercourse whatever; in all the time he had to do with the public,
which was not a little, he was never known to have gone to any of his
friends to a supper, except that once when his near kinsman
Euryptolemus married, he remained present till the ceremony of the
drink-offering, and then immediately rose from table and went his way.
For these friendly meetings are very quick to defeat any assumed
superiority, and in intimate familiarity an exterior of gravity is hard
to maintain. Real excellence, indeed, is most recognized when most
openly looked into; and in really good men, nothing which meets the
eyes of external observers so truly deserves their admiration, as their
daily common life does that of their nearer friends. Pericles, however,
to avoid any feeling of commonness, or any satiety on the part of the
people, presented himself at intervals only, not speaking to every
business, nor at all times coming into the assembly, but, as Critolaus
says, reserving himself, like the Salaminian galley,@ for great
occasions, while matters of lesser importance were dispatched by
friends or other speakers under his direction. And of this number we
are told Ephialtes made one, who broke the power of the council of
Areopagus, giving the people, according to Plato's expression, so
copious and so strong a draught of liberty, that, growing wild and
unruly, like an unmanageable horse, it, as the comic poets say, --
" -- got beyond all keeping in,
Champing at Euboea, and among the islands leaping in."
The style of speaking most consonant to his form of life and the
dignity of his views he found, so to say, in the tones of that
instrument with which Anaxagoras had furnished him; of his teaching he
continually availed himself, and deepened the colors of rhetoric with
the dye of natural science. For having, in addition to his great
natural genius, attained, by the study of nature, to use the words of
the divine Plato, this height of intelligence, and this universal
consummating power, and drawing hence whatever might be of advantage to
him in the art of speaking, he showed himself far superior to all
others. Upon which account, they say, he had his nickname given him,
though some are of opinion he was named the Olympian from the public
buildings with which he adorned the city; and others again, from his
great power in public affairs, whether of war or peace. Nor is it
unlikely that the confluence of many attributes may have conferred it
on him. However, the comedies represented at the time, which, both in
good earnest and in merriment, let fly many hard words at him, plainly
show that he got that appellation especially from his speaking; they
speak of his "thundering and lightning" when he harangued the people,
and of his wielding a dreadful thunderbolt in his tongue.
A saying also of Thucydides, the son of Melesias, stands on record,
spoken by him by way of pleasantry upon Pericles's dexterity.
Thucydides was one of the noble and distinguished citizens, and had
been his greatest opponent; and, when Archidamus, the king of the
Lacedaemonians, asked him whether he or Pericles were the better
wrestler, he made this answer: "When I," said he, "have thrown him and
given him a fair fall, by persisting that he had no fall, he gets the
better of me, and makes the bystanders, in spite of their own eyes,
believe him." The truth, however, is, that Pericles himself was very
careful what and how he was to speak, insomuch that, whenever he went
up to the hustings, he prayed the gods that no one word might unawares
slip from him unsuitable to the matter and the occasion.
He has left nothing in writing behind him, except some decrees; and
there are but very few of his sayings recorded; one, for example, is,
that he said Aegina must, like a gathering in a man's eye, be removed
from Piraeus; and another, that he said he saw already war moving on
its way towards them out of Peloponnesus. Again, when on a time
Sophocles, who was his fellow-commissioner in the generalship, was
going on board with him, and praised the beauty of a youth they met
with in the way to the ship, "Sophocles," said he, "a general ought not
only to have clean hands, but also clean eyes." And Stesimbrotus tells
us, that, in his encomium on those who fell in battle at Samos, he said
they were become immortal, as the gods were. "For," said he, "we do not
see them themselves, but only by the honors we pay them, and by the
benefits they do us, attribute to them immortality; and the like
attributes belong also to those that die in the service of their
country."
Since Thucydides describes the rule of Pericles as an aristocratical
government, that went by the name of a democracy, but was, indeed, the
supremacy of a single great man, while many others say, on the
contrary, that by him the common people were first encouraged and led
on to such evils as appropriations of subject territory; allowances for
attending theaters, payments for performing public duties, and by these
bad habits were, under the influence of his public measures, changed
from a sober, thrifty people, that maintained themselves by their own
labors, to lovers of expense, intemperance, and license, let us examine
the cause of this change by the actual matters of fact.
At the first, as has been said, when he set himself against Cimon's
great authority, he did caress the people. Finding himself come short
of his competitor in wealth and money, by which advantages the other
was enabled to take care of the poor, inviting every day some one or
other of the citizens that was in want to supper, and bestowing clothes
on the aged people, and breaking down the hedges and enclosures of his
grounds, that all that would might freely gather what fruit they
pleased, Pericles, thus outdone in popular arts, by the advice of one
Damonides of Oea, as Aristotle states, turned to the distribution of
the public moneys; and in a short time having bought the people over,
what with moneys allowed for shows and for service on juries, and what
with other forms of pay and largess, he made use of them against the
council of Areopagus, of which he himself was no member, as having
never been appointed by lot either chief archon, or lawgiver, or king,
or captain. For from of old these offices were conferred on persons by
lot, and they who had acquitted themselves duly in the discharge of
them were advanced to the court of Areopagus. And so Pericles, having
secured his power and interest with the populace, directed the
exertions of his party against this council with such success, that
most of those causes and matters which had been used to be tried there,
were, by the agency of Ephialtes, removed from its cognizance, Cimon,
also, was banished by ostracism as a favorer of the Lacedaemonians and
a hater of the people, though in wealth and noble birth he was among
the first, and had won several most glorious victories over the
barbarians, and had filled the city with money and spoils of war; as is
recorded in the history of his life. So vast an authority had Pericles
obtained among the people.
The ostracism was limited by law to ten years; but the Lacedaemonians,
in the mean time, entering with a great army into the territory of
Tanagra, and the Athenians going out against them, Cimon, coming from
his banishment before his time was out, put himself in arms and array
with those of his fellow-citizens that were of his own tribe, and
desired by his deeds to wipe off the suspicion of his favoring the
Lacedaemonians, by venturing his own person along with his country-men.
But Pericles's friends, gathering in a body, forced him to retire as a
banished man. For which cause also Pericles seems to have exerted
himself more in that than in any battle, and to have been conspicuous
above all for his exposure of himself to danger. All Cimon's friends,
also, to a man, fell together side by side, whom Pericles had accused
with him of taking part with the Lacedaemonians. Defeated in this
battle on their own frontiers, and expecting a new and perilous attack
with return of spring, the Athenians now felt regret and sorrow for the
loss of Cimon, and repentance for their expulsion of him. Pericles,
being sensible of their feelings, did not hesitate or delay to gratify
it, and himself made the motion for recalling him home. He, upon his
return, concluded a peace betwixt the two cities; for the
Lacedaemonians entertained as kindly feelings towards him as they did
the reverse towards Pericles and the other popular leaders.
Yet some there are who say that Pericles did not propose the order for
Cimon's return till some private articles of agreement had been made
between them, and this by means of Elpinice, Cimon's sister; that
Cimon, namely, should go out to sea with a fleet of two hundred ships,
and be commander-in-chief abroad, with a design to reduce the king of
Persia's territories, and that Pericles should have the power at home.
This Elpinice, it was thought, had before this time procured some favor
for her brother Cimon at Pericles's hands, and induced him to be more
remiss and gentle in urging the charge when Cimon was tried for his
life; for Pericles was one of the committee appointed by the commons to
plead against him. And when Elpinice came and besought him in her
brother's behalf, he answered, with a smile, "O Elpinice, you are too
old a woman to undertake such business as this." But, when he appeared
to impeach him, he stood up but once to speak, merely to acquit himself
of his commission, and went out of court, having done Cimon the least
prejudice of any of his accusers.
How, then, can one believe Idomeneus, who charges Pericles as if he had
by treachery procured the murder of Ephialtes, the popular statesman,
one who was his friend, and of his own party in all his political
course, out of jealousy, forsooth, and envy of his great reputation?
This historian, it seems, having raked up these stories, I know not
whence, has befouled with them a man who, perchance, was not altogether
free from fault or blame, but yet had a noble spirit, and a soul that
was bent on honor; and where such qualities are, there can no such
cruel and brutal passion find harbor or gain admittance. As to
Ephialtes, the truth of the story, as Aristotle has told it, is this:
that having made himself formidable to the oligarchical party, by being
an uncompromising asserter of the people's rights in calling to account
and prosecuting those who any way wronged them, his enemies, lying in
wait for him, by the means of Aristodicus the Tanagraean, privately
dispatched him.
Cimon, while he was admiral, ended his days in the Isle of Cyprus. And
the aristocratical party, seeing that Pericles was already before this
grown to be the greatest and foremost man of all the city, but
nevertheless wishing there should be somebody set up against him, to
blunt and turn the edge of his power, that it might not altogether
prove a monarchy, put forward Thucydides of Alopece, a discreet person,
and a near kinsman of Cimon's, to conduct the opposition against him;
who, indeed, though less skilled in warlike affairs than Cimon was, yet
was better versed in speaking and political business, and keeping close
guard in the city, and engaging with Pericles on the hustings, in a
short time brought the government to an equality of parties. For he
would not suffer those who were called the honest and good (persons of
worth and distinction) to be scattered up and down and mix themselves
and be lost among the populace, as formerly, diminishing and obscuring
their superiority amongst the masses; but taking them apart by
themselves and uniting them in one body, by their combined weight he
was able, as it were upon the balance, to make a counter-poise to the
other party.
For, indeed, there was from the beginning a sort of concealed split, or
seam, as it might be in a piece of iron, marking the different popular
and aristocratical tendencies; but the open rivalry and contention of
these two opponents made the gash deep, and severed the city into the
two parties of the people and the few. And so Pericles, at that time
more than at any other, let loose the reins to the people, and made his
policy subservient to their pleasure, contriving continually to have
some great public show or solemnity, some banquet, or some procession
or other in the town to please them, coaxing his countrymen like
children, with such delights and pleasures as were not, however,
unedifying. Besides that every year he sent out threescore galleys, on
board of which there went numbers of the citizens, who were in pay
eight months, learning at the same time and practicing the art of
seamanship.
He sent, moreover, a thousand of them into the Chersonese as planters,
to share the land among them by lot, and five hundred more into the
isle of Naxos, and half that number to Andros, a thousand into Thrace
to dwell among the Bisaltae, and others into Italy, when the city
Sybaris, which now was called Thurii, was to be repeopled. And this he
did to ease and discharge the city of an idle, and, by reason of their
idleness, a busy, meddling crowd of people; and at the same time to
meet the necessities and restore the fortunes of the poor townsmen, and
to intimidate, also, and check their allies from attempting any change,
by posting such garrisons, as it were, in the midst of them.
That which gave most pleasure and ornament to the city of Athens, and
the greatest admiration and even astonishment to all strangers, and
that which now is Greece's only evidence that the power she boasts of
and her ancient wealth are no romance or idle story, was his
construction of the public and sacred buildings. Yet this was that of
all his actions in the government which his enemies most looked askance
upon and caviled at in the popular assemblies, crying out how that the
commonwealth of Athens had lost its reputation and was ill-spoken of
abroad for removing the common treasure of the Greeks from the isle of
Delos into their own custody; and how that their fairest excuse for so
doing, namely, that they took it away for fear the barbarians should
seize it, and on purpose to secure it in a safe place, this Pericles
had made unavailable, and how that "Greece cannot but resent it as an
insufferable affront, and consider herself to be tyrannized over
openly, when she sees the treasure, which was contributed by her upon a
necessity for the war, wantonly lavished out by us upon our city, to
gild her all over, and to adorn and set her forth, as it were some vain
woman, hung round with precious stones and figures and temples, which
cost a world of money."
Pericles, on the other hand, informed the people, that they were in no
way obliged to give any account of those moneys to their allies, so
long as they maintained their defense, and kept off the barbarians from
attacking them; while in the meantime they did not so much as supply
one horse or man or ship, but only found money for the service; "which
money," said he, "is not theirs that give it, but theirs that receive
it, if so be they perform the conditions upon which they receive it."
And that it was good reason, that, now the city was sufficiently
provided and stored with all things necessary for the war, they should
convert the overplus of its wealth to such undertakings, as would
hereafter, when completed, give them eternal honor, and, for the
present, while in process, freely supply all the inhabitants with
plenty. With their variety of workmanship and of occasions for service,
which summon all arts and trades and require all hands to be employed
about them, they do actually put the whole city, in a manner, into
state-pay; while at the same time she is both beautified and maintained
by herself. For as those who are of age and strength for war are
provided for and maintained in the armaments abroad by their pay out of
the public stock, so, it being his desire and design that the
undisciplined mechanic multitude that stayed at home should not go
without their share of public salaries, and yet should not have them
given them for sitting still and doing nothing, to that end he thought
fit to bring in among them, with the approbation of the people, these
vast projects of buildings and designs of works, that would be of some
continuance before they were finished, and would give employment to
numerous arts, so that the part of the people that stayed at home
might, no less than those that were at sea or in garrisons or on
expeditions, have a fair and just occasion of receiving the benefit and
having their share of the public moneys.
The materials were stone, brass, ivory, gold, ebony cypress-wood; and
the arts or trades that wrought and fashioned them were smiths and
carpenters, molders, founders and braziers, stone-cutters, dyers,
goldsmiths, ivory-workers, painters, embroiderers, turners; those again
that conveyed them to the town for use, merchants and mariners and
ship- masters by sea, and by land, cartwrights, cattle-breeders,
waggoners, rope-makers, flax-workers, shoe-makers and leather-dressers,
roadmakers, miners. And every trade in the same nature, as a captain in
an army has his particular company of soldiers under him, had its own
hired company of journeymen and laborers belonging to it banded
together as in array, to be as it were the instrument and body for the
performance of the service. Thus, to say all in a word, the occasions
and services of these public works distributed plenty through every age
and condition.
As then grew the works up, no less stately in size than exquisite in
form, the workmen striving to outvie the material and the design with
the beauty of their workmanship, yet the most wonderful thing of all
was the rapidity of their execution. Undertakings, any one of which
singly might have required, they thought, for their completion, several
successions and ages of men, were every one of them accomplished in the
height and prime of one man's political service. Although they say,
too, that Zeuxis once, having heard Agatharchus the painter boast of
dispatching his work with speed and ease, replied, "I take a long
time." For ease and speed in doing a thing do not give the work lasting
solidity or exactness of beauty; the expenditure of time allowed to a
man's pains beforehand for the production of a thing is repaid by way
of interest with a vital force for its preservation when once produced.
For which reason Pericles's works are especially admired, as having
been made quickly, to last long. For every particular piece of his work
was immediately, even at that time, for its beauty and elegance,
antique; and yet in its vigor and freshness looks to this day as if it
were just executed. There is a sort of bloom of newness upon those
works of his, preserving them from the touch of time, as if they had
some perennial spirit and undying vitality mingled in the composition
of them.
Phidias had the oversight of all the works, and was surveyor-general,
though upon the various portions other great masters and workmen were
employed. For Callicrates and Ictinus built the Parthenon; the chapel
at Eleusis, where the mysteries were celebrated, was begun by Coroebus,
who erected the pillars that stand upon the floor or pavement, and
joined them to the architraves; and after his death Metagenes of Xypete
added the frieze and the upper line of columns; Xenocles of Cholargus
roofed or arched the lantern on the top of the temple of Castor and
Pollux; and the long wall, which Socrates says he himself heard
Pericles propose to the people, was undertaken by Callicrates. This
work Cratinus ridicules, as long in finishing, --
'Tis long since Pericles, if words would do it,
Talk'd up the wall; yet adds not one mite to it.
The Odeum, or music-room, which in its interior was full of seats and
ranges of pillars, and outside had its roof made to slope and descend
from one single point at the top, was constructed, we are told, in
imitation of the king of Persia's Pavilion; this likewise by Pericles's
order; which Cratinus again, in his comedy called The Thracian Women,
made an occasion of raillery, --
So, we see here,
Jupiter Long-pate Pericles appear,
Since ostracism time, he's laid aside his head,
And wears the new Odeum in its stead.
Pericles, also, eager for distinction, then first obtained the decree
for a contest in musical skill to be held yearly at the Panathenaea,
and he himself, being chosen judge, arranged the order and method in
which the competitors should sing and play on the flute and on the
harp. And both at that time, and at other times also, they sat in this
music-room to see and hear all such trials of skill.
The propylaea, or entrances to the Acropolis, were finished in five
years' time, Mnesicles being the principal architect. A strange
accident happened in the course of building, which showed that the
goddess was not averse to the work, but was aiding and cooperating to
bring it to perfection. One of the artificers, the quickest and the
handiest workman among them all, with a slip of his foot fell down from
a great height, and lay in a miserable condition, the physicians having
no hopes of his recovery. When Pericles was in distress about this,
Minerva appeared to him at night in a dream, and ordered a course of
treatment, which he applied, and in a short time and with great ease
cured the man. And upon this occasion it was that he set up a brass
statue of Minerva, surnamed Health, in the citadel near the altar,
which they say was there before. But it was Phidias who wrought the
goddess's image in gold, and he has his name inscribed on the pedestal
as the workman of it; and indeed the whole work in a manner was under
his charge, and he had, as we have said already, the oversight over all
the artists and workmen, through Pericles's friendship for him; and
this, indeed, made him much envied, and his patron shamefully slandered
with stories, as if Phidias were in the habit of receiving, for
Pericles's use, freeborn women that came to see the works. The comic
writers of the town, when they had got hold of this story, made much of
it, and bespattered him with all the ribaldry they could invent,
charging him falsely with the wife of Menippus, one who was his friend
and served as lieutenant under him in the wars; and with the birds kept
by Pyrilampes, an acquaintance of Pericles, who, they pretended, used
to give presents of peacocks to Pericles's female friends. And how can
one wonder at any number of strange assertions from men whose whole
lives were devoted to mockery, and who were ready at any time to
sacrifice the reputation of their superiors to vulgar envy and spite,
as to some evil genius, when even Stesimbrotus the Thasian has dared to
lay to the charge of Pericles a monstrous and fabulous piece of
criminality with his son's wife? So very difficult a matter is it to
trace and find out the truth of anything by history, when, on the one
hand, those who afterwards write it find long periods of time
intercepting their view, and, on the other hand, the contemporary
records of any actions and lives, partly through envy and ill-will,
partly through favor and flattery, pervert and distort truth.
When the orators, who sided with Thucydides and his party, were at one
time crying out, as their custom was, against Pericles, as one who
squandered away the public money, and made havoc of the state revenues,
he rose in the open assembly and put the question to the people,
whether they thought that he had laid out much; and they saying, "Too
much, a great deal." "Then," said he, "since it is so, let the cost not
go to your account, but to mine; and let the inscription upon the
buildings stand in my name." When they heard him say thus, whether it
were out of a surprise to see the greatness of his spirit, or out of
emulation of the glory of the works, they cried aloud, bidding him to
spend on, and lay out what he thought fit from the public purse, and to
spare no cost, till all were finished.
At length, coming to a final contest with Thucydides, which of the two
should ostracize the other out of the country, and having gone through
this peril, he threw his antagonist out, and broke up the confederacy
that had been organized against him. So that now all schism and
division being at an end, and the city brought to evenness and unity,
he got all Athens and all affairs that pertained to the Athenians into
his own hands, their tributes, their armies, and their galleys, the
islands, the sea, and their wide-extended power, partly over other
Greeks and partly over barbarians, and all that empire, which they
possessed, founded and fortified upon subject nations and royal
friendships and alliances.
After this he was no longer the same man he had been before, nor as
tame and gentle and familiar as formerly with the populace, so as
readily to yield to their pleasures and to comply with the desires of
the multitude, as a steersman shifts with the winds. Quitting that
loose, remiss, and, in some cases, licentious court of the popular
will, he turned those soft and flowery modulations to the austerity of
aristocratical and regal rule; and employing this uprightly and
undeviatingly for the country's best interests, he was able generally
to lead the people along, with their own wills and consents, by
persuading and showing them what was to be done; and sometimes, too,
urging and pressing them forward extremely against their will, he made
them, whether they would or no, yield submission to what was for their
advantage. In which, to say the truth, he did but like a skillful
physician, who, in a complicated and chronic disease, as he sees
occasion, at one while allows his patient the moderate use of such
things as please him, at another while gives him keen pains and drugs
to work the cure. For there arising and growing up, as was natural, all
manner of distempered feelings among a people which had so vast a
command and dominion, he alone, as a great master, knowing how to
handle and deal fitly with each one of them, and, in an especial
manner, making that use of hopes and fears, as his two chief rudders,
with the one to check the career of their confidence at any time, with
the other to raise them up and cheer them when under any
discouragement, plainly showed by this, that rhetoric, or the art of
speaking, is, in Plato's language, the government of the souls of men,
and that her chief business is to address the affections and passions,
which are as it were the strings and keys to the soul, and require a
skillful and careful touch to be played on as they should be. The
source of this predominance was not barely his power of language, but,
as Thucydides assures us, the reputation of his life, and the
confidence felt in his character; his manifest freedom from every kind
of corruption, and superiority to all considerations of money.
Notwithstanding he had made the city Athens, which was great of itself,
as great and rich as can be imagined, and though he were himself in
power and interest more than equal to many kings and absolute rulers,
who some of them also bequeathed by will their power to their children,
he, for his part, did not make the patrimony his father left him
greater than it was by one drachma.
Thucydides, indeed, gives a plain statement of the greatness of his
power; and the comic poets, in their spiteful manner, more than hint at
it, styling his companions and friends the new Pisistratidae, and
calling on him to abjure any intention of usurpation, as one whose
eminence was too great to be any longer proportionable to and
compatible with a democracy or popular government. And Teleclides says
the Athenians had surrendered up to him --
The tribute of the cities, and with them, the cities too, to do with
them as he pleases, and undo;
To build up, if he likes, stone walls around a town; and again, if so he
likes, to pull them down;
Their treaties and alliances, power, empire, peace, and war, their
wealth and their success forevermore.
Nor was all this the luck of some happy occasion; nor was it the mere
bloom and grace of a policy that flourished for a season; but having
for forty years together maintained the first place among statesmen
such as Ephialtes and Leocrates and Myronides and Cimon and Tolmides
and Thucydides were, after the defeat and banishment of Thucydides, for
no less than fifteen years longer, in the exercise of one continuous
unintermitted command in the office, to which he was annually
reelected, of General, he preserved his integrity unspotted; though
otherwise he was not altogether idle or careless in looking after his
pecuniary advantage; his paternal estate, which of right belonged to
him, he so ordered that it might neither through negligence be wasted
or lessened, nor yet, being so full of business as he was, cost him any
great trouble or time with taking care of it; and put it into such a
way of management as he thought to be the most easy for himself, and
the most exact. All his yearly products and profits he sold together in
a lump, and supplied his household needs afterward by buying everything
that he or his family wanted out of the market. Upon which account, his
children, when they grew to age, were not well pleased with his
management, and the women that lived with him were treated with little
cost, and complained of this way of housekeeping, where everything was
ordered and set down from day to day, and reduced to the greatest
exactness; since there was not there, as is usual in a great family and
a plentiful estate, any thing to spare, or over and above; but all that
went out or came in, all disbursements and all receipts, proceeded as
it were by number and measure. His manager in all this was a single
servant, Evangelus by name, a man either naturally gifted or instructed
by Pericles so as to excel every one in this art of domestic economy.
All this, in truth, was very little in harmony with Anaxagoras's
wisdom; if, indeed, it be true that he, by a kind of divine impulse and
greatness of spirit, voluntarily quitted his house, and left his land
to lie fallow and to be grazed by sheep like a common. But the life of
a contemplative philosopher and that of an active statesman are, I
presume, not the same thing; for the one merely employs, upon great and
good objects of thought, an intelligence that requires no aid of
instruments nor supply of any external materials; whereas the other,
who tempers and applies his virtue to human uses, may have occasion for
affluence, not as a matter of mere necessity, but as a noble thing;
which was Pericles's case, who relieved numerous poor citizens.
However, there is a story, that Anaxagoras himself, while Pericles was
taken up with public affairs, lay neglected, and that, now being grown
old, he wrapped himself up with a resolution to die for want of food;
which being by chance brought to Pericles's ear, he was horror-struck,
and instantly ran thither, and used all the arguments and entreaties he
could to him, lamenting not so much Anaxagoras's condition as his own,
should he lose such a counselor as he had found him to be; and that,
upon this, Anaxagoras unfolded his robe, and showing himself, made
answer: "Pericles," said he, "even those who have occasion for a lamp
supply it with oil."
The Lacedaemonians beginning to show themselves troubled at the growth
of the Athenian power, Pericles, on the other hand, to elevate the
people's spirit yet more, and to raise them to the thought of great
actions, proposed a decree, to summon all the Greeks in what part
soever, whether of Europe or Asia, every city, little as well as great,
to send their deputies to Athens to a general assembly, or convention,
there to consult and advise concerning the Greek temples which the
barbarians had burnt down, and the sacrifices which were due from them
upon vows they had made to their gods for the safety of Greece when
they fought against the barbarians; and also concerning the navigation
of the sea, that they might henceforward all of them pass to and fro
and trade securely, and be at peace among themselves.
Upon this errand, there were twenty men, of such as were above fifty
years of age, sent by commission; five to summon the Ionians and
Dorians in Asia, and the islanders as far as Lesbos and Rhodes; five to
visit all the places in the Hellespont and Thrace, up to Byzantium; and
other five besides these to go to Boeotia and Phocis and Peloponnesus,
and from hence to pass through the Locrians over to the neighboring
continent, as far as Acarnania and Ambracia; and the rest to take their
course through Euboea to the Oetaeans and the Malian Gulf, and to the
Achaeans of Phthiotis and the Thessalians; all of them to treat with
the people as they passed, and to persuade them to come and take their
part in the debates for settling the peace and jointly regulating the
affairs of Greece.
Nothing was effected, nor did the cities meet by their deputies, as was
desired; the Lacedaemonians, as it is said, crossing the design
underhand, and the attempt being disappointed and baffled first in
Peloponnesus. I thought fit, however, to introduce the mention of it,
to show the spirit of the man and the greatness of his thoughts.
In his military conduct, he gained a great reputation for wariness; he
would not by his good-will engage in any fight which had much
uncertainty or hazard; he did not envy the glory of generals whose rash
adventures fortune favored with brilliant success, however they were
admired by others; nor did he think them worthy his imitation, but
always used to say to his citizens that, so far as lay in his power,
they should continue immortal, and live forever. Seeing Tolmides, the
son of Tolmaeus, upon the confidence of his former successes, and
flushed with the honor his military actions had procured him, making
preparation to attack the Boeotians in their own country, when there
was no likely opportunity, and that he had prevailed with the bravest
and most enterprising of the youth to enlist themselves as volunteers
in the service, who besides his other force made up a thousand, he
endeavored to withhold him and to advise him from it in the public
assembly, telling him in a memorable saying of his, which still goes
about, that, if he would not take Pericles's advice, yet he would not
do amiss to wait and be ruled by time, the wisest counselor of all.
This saying, at that time, was but slightly commended; but within a few
days after, when news was brought that Tolmides himself had been
defeated and slain in battle near Coronea, and that many brave citizens
had fallen with him, it gained him great repute as well as good-will
among the people, for wisdom and for love of his countrymen.
But of all his expeditions, that to the Chersonese gave most
satisfaction and pleasure, having proved the safety of the Greeks who
inhabited there. For not only by carrying along with him a thousand
fresh citizens of Athens he gave new strength and vigor to the cities,
but also by belting the neck of land, which joins the peninsula to the
continent, with bulwarks and forts from sea to sea, he put a stop to
the inroads of the Thracians, who lay all about the Chersonese, and
closed the door against a continual and grievous war, with which that
country had been long harassed, lying exposed to the encroachments and
influx of barbarous neighbors, and groaning under the evils of a
predatory population both upon and within its borders.
Nor was he less admired and talked of abroad for his sailing round the
Peloponnesus, having set out from Pegae, or The Fountains, the port of
Megara, with a hundred galleys. For he not only laid waste the sea-
coast, as Tolmides had done before, but also, advancing far up into
main land with the soldiers he had on board, by the terror of his
appearance drove many within their walls; and at Nemea, with main
force, routed and raised a trophy over the Sicyonians, who stood their
ground and joined battle with him. And having taken on board a supply
of soldiers into the galleys, out of Achaia, then in league with Athens
he crossed with the fleet to the opposite continent, and, sailing along
by the mouth of the river Achelous overran Acarnania, and shut up the
Oeniadae within their city walls, and having ravaged and wasted their
country, weighed anchor for home with the double advantage of having
shown himself formidable to his enemies, and at the same time safe and
energetic to his fellow-citizens; for there was not so much as any
chance-miscarriage that happened, the whole voyage through, to those
who were under his charge.
Entering also the Euxine Sea with a large and finely equipped fleet, he
obtained for the Greek cities any new arrangements they wanted, and
entered into friendly relations with them; and to the barbarous
nations, and kings and chiefs round about them, displayed the greatness
of the power of the Athenians, their perfect ability and confidence to
sail wherever they had a mind, and to bring the whole sea under their
control. He left the Sinopians thirteen ships of war, with soldiers
under the command of Lamachus, to assist them against Timesileus the
tyrant; and when he and his accomplices had been thrown out, obtained a
decree that six hundred of the Athenians that were willing should sail
to Sinope and plant themselves there with the Sinopians, sharing among
them the houses and land which the tyrant and his party had previously
held.
But in other things he did not comply with the giddy impulses of the
citizens, nor quit his own resolutions to follow their fancies, when,
carried away with the thought of their strength and great success, they
were eager to interfere again in Egypt, and to disturb the king of
Persia's maritime dominions. Nay, there were a good many who were, even
then, possessed with that unblessed and inauspicious passion for
Sicily, which afterward the orators of Alcibiades's party blew up into
a flame. There were some also who dreamt of Tuscany and of Carthage,
and not without plausible reason in their present large dominion and
the prosperous course of their affairs.
But Pericles curbed this passion for foreign conquest, and unsparingly
pruned and cut down their ever busy fancies for a multitude of
undertakings; and directed their power for the most part to securing
and consolidating what they had already got, supposing it would be
quite enough for them to do, if they could keep the Lacedaemonians in
check; to whom he entertained all along a sense of opposition; which,
as upon many other occasions, so he particularly showed by what he did
in the time of the holy war. The Lacedaemonians, having gone with an
army to Delphi, restored Apollo's temple, which the Phocians had got
into their possession, to the Delphians; immediately after their
departure, Pericles, with another army, came and restored the Phocians.
And the Lacedaemonians having engraven the record of their privilege of
consulting the oracle before others, which the Delphians gave them,
upon the forehead of the brazen wolf which stands there, he, also,
having received from the Phocians the like privilege for the Athenians,
had it cut upon the same wolf of brass on his right side.
That he did well and wisely in thus restraining the exertions of the
Athenians within the compass of Greece, the events themselves that
happened afterward bore sufficient witness. For, in the first place,
the Euboeans revolted, against whom he passed over with forces; and
then, immediately after, news came that the Megarians were turned their
enemies, and a hostile army was upon the borders of Attica, under the
conduct of Plistoanax, king of the Lacedaemonians. Wherefore Pericles
came with his army back again in all haste out of Euboea, to meet the
war which threatened at home; and did not venture to engage a numerous
and brave army eager for battle; but perceiving that Plistoanax was a
very young man, and governed himself mostly by the counsel and advice
of Cleandrides, whom the ephors had sent with him, by reason of his
youth, to be a kind of guardian and assistant to him, he privately made
trial of this man's integrity, and, in a short time, having corrupted
him with money, prevailed with him to withdraw the Peloponnesians out
of Attica. When the army had retired and dispersed into their several
states, the Lacedaemonians in anger fined their king in so large a sum
of money, that, unable to pay it, he quitted Lacedaemon; while
Cleandrides fled, and had sentence of death passed upon him in his
absence. This was the father of Gylippus, who overpowered the Athenians
in Sicily. And it seems that this covetousness was an hereditary
disease transmitted from father to son; for Gylippus also afterwards
was caught in foul practices, and expelled from Sparta for it. But this
we have told at large in the account of Lysander.
When Pericles, in giving up his accounts of this expedition, stated a
disbursement of ten talents, as laid out upon fit occasion, the people,
without any question, nor troubling themselves to investigate the
mystery, freely allowed of it. And some historians, in which number is
Theophrastus the philosopher, have given it as a truth that Pericles
every year used to send privately the sum of ten talents to Sparta,
with which he complimented those in office, to keep off the war; not to
purchase peace neither, but time, that he might prepare at leisure, and
be the better able to carry on war hereafter.
Immediately after this, turning his forces against the revolters, and
passing over into the island of Euboea with fifty sail of ships and
five thousand men in arms, he reduced their cities, and drove out the
citizens of the Chalcidians, called Hippobotae, horse-feeders, the
chief persons for wealth and reputation among them; and removing all
the Histiaeans out of the country, brought in a plantation of Athenians
in their room; making them his one example of severity, because they
had captured an Attic ship and killed all on board.
After this, having made a truce between the Athenians and
Lacedaemonians for thirty years, he ordered, by public decree, the
expedition against the Isle of Samos, on the ground, that, when they
were bid to leave off their war with the Milesians, they had not
complied. And as these measures against the Samians are thought to have
been taken to please Aspasia, this may be a fit point for inquiry about
the woman, what art or charming faculty she had that enabled her to
captivate, as she did, the greatest statesmen, and to give the
philosophers occasion to speak so much about her, and that, too, not to
her disparagement. That she was a Milesian by birth, the daughter of
Axiochus, is a thing acknowledged. And they say it was in emulation of
Thargelia, a courtesan of the old Ionian times, that she made her
addresses to men of great power. Thargelia was a great beauty,
extremely charming, and at the same time sagacious; she had numerous
suitors among the Greeks, and brought all who had to do with her over
to the Persian interest, and by their means, being men of the greatest
power and station, sowed the seeds of the Median faction up and down in
several cities. Aspasia, some say, was courted and caressed by Pericles
upon account of her knowledge and skill in politics. Socrates himself
would sometimes go to visit her, and some of his acquaintance with him;
and those who frequented her company would carry their wives with them
to listen to her. Her occupation was any thing but creditable, her
house being a home for young courtesans. Aeschines tells us also, that
Lysicles, a sheep-dealer, a man of low birth and character, by keeping
Aspasia company after Pericles's death, came to be a chief man in
Athens. And in Plato's Menexenus, though we do not take the
introduction as quite serious, still thus much seems to be historical,
that she had the repute of being resorted to by many of the Athenians
for instruction in the art of speaking. Pericles's inclination for her
seems, however, to have rather proceeded from the passion of love. He
had a wife that was near of kin to him, who had been married first to
Hipponicus, by whom she had Callias, surnamed the Rich; and also she
brought Pericles, while she lived with him, two sons, Xanthippus and
Paralus. Afterwards, when they did not well agree nor like to live
together, he parted with her, with her own consent, to another man, and
himself took Aspasia, and loved her with wonderful affection; every
day, both as he went out and as he came in from the marketplace, he
saluted and kissed her.
In the comedies she goes by the nicknames of the new Omphale and
Deianira, and again is styled Juno. Cratinus, in downright terms, calls
her a harlot.
To find him a Juno the goddess of lust Bore that harlot past shame,
Aspasia by name.
It should seem, also, that he had a son by her; Eupolis, in his Demi,
introduced Pericles asking after his safety, and Myronides replying,
"My son?" "He lives; a man he had been long,
But that the harlot-mother did him wrong."
Aspasia, they say, became so celebrated and renowned, that Cyrus also,
who made war against Artaxerxes for the Persian monarchy, gave her whom
he loved the best of all his concubines the name of Aspasia, who before
that was called Milto. She was a Phocaean by birth, the daughter of one
Hermotimus, and, when Cyrus fell in battle, was carried to the king,
and had great influence at court. These things coming into my memory as
I am writing this story, it would be unnatural for me to omit them.
Pericles, however, was particularly charged with having proposed to the
assembly the war against the Samians, from favor to the Milesians, upon
the entreaty of Aspasia. For the two states were at war for the
possession of Priene; and the Samians, getting the better, refused to
lay down their arms and to have the controversy betwixt them decided by
arbitration before the Athenians. Pericles, therefore, fitting out a
fleet, went and broke up the oligarchical government at Samos, and,
taking fifty of the principal men of the town as hostages, and as many
of their children, sent them to the isle of Lemnos, there to be kept,
though he had offers, as some relate, of a talent a piece for himself
from each one of the hostages, and of many other presents from those
who were anxious not to have a democracy. Moreover, Pissuthnes the
Persian, one of the king's lieutenants, bearing some good-will to the
Samians, sent him ten thousand pieces of gold to excuse the city.
Pericles, however, would receive none of all this; but after he had
taken that course with the Samians which he thought fit, and set up a
democracy among them, sailed back to Athens.
But they, however, immediately revolted, Pissuthnes having privily got
away their hostages for them, and provided them with means for the war.
Whereupon Pericles came out with a fleet a second time against them,
and found them not idle nor slinking away, but manfully resolved to try
for the dominion of the sea. The issue was, that, after a sharp
sea-fight about the island called Tragia, Pericles obtained a decisive
victory, having with forty-four ships routed seventy of the enemy's,
twenty of which were carrying soldiers.
Together with his victory and pursuit, having made himself master of
the port, he laid siege to the Samians, and blocked them up, who yet,
one way or other, still ventured to make sallies, and fight under the
city walls. But after that another greater fleet from Athens was
arrived, and that the Samians were now shut up with a close leaguer on
every side, Pericles, taking with him sixty galleys, sailed out into
the main sea, with the intention, as most authors give the account, to
meet a squadron of Phoenician ships that were coming for the Samians'
relief, and to fight them at as great distance as could be from the
island; but, as Stesimbrotus says, with a design of putting over to
Cyprus; which does not seem to be probable. But whichever of the two
was his intent, it seems to have been a miscalculation. For on his
departure, Melissus, the son of Ithagenes, a philosopher, being at that
time general in Samos, despising either the small number of the ships
that were left or the inexperience of the commanders, prevailed with
the citizens to attack the Athenians. And the Samians having won the
battle, and taken several of the men prisoners, and disabled several of
the ships, were masters of the sea, and brought into port all
necessaries they wanted for the war, which they had not before.
Aristotle says, too, that Pericles himself had been once before this
worsted by this Melissus in a sea-fight.
The Samians, that they might requite an affront which had before been
put upon them, branded the Athenians, whom they took prisoners, in
their foreheads, with the figure of an owl. For so the Athenians had
marked them before with a Samaena, which is a sort of ship, low and
flat in the prow, so as to look snub-nosed, but wide and large and
well-spread in the hold, by which it both carries a large cargo and
sails well. And it was so called, because the first of that kind was
seen at Samos, having been built by order of Polycrates the tyrant.
These brands upon the Samians' foreheads, they say, are the allusion in
the passage of Aristophanes, where he says, --
For, oh, the Samians are a lettered people.
Pericles, as soon as news was brought him of the disaster that had
befallen his army, made all the haste he could to come in to their
relief, and having defeated Melissus, who bore up against him, and put
the enemy to flight, he immediately proceeded to hem them in with a
wall, resolving to master them and take the town, rather with some cost
and time, than with the wounds and hazards of his citizens. But as it
was a hard matter to keep back the Athenians, who were vexed at the
delay, and were eagerly bent to fight, he divided the whole multitude
into eight parts, and arranged by lot that that part which had the
white bean should have leave to feast and take their ease, while the
other seven were fighting. And this is the reason, they say, that
people, when at any time they have been merry, and enjoyed themselves,
call it white day, in allusion to this white bean.
Ephorus the historian tells us besides, that Pericles made use of
engines of battery in this siege, being much taken with the curiousness
of the invention, with the aid and presence of Artemon himself, the
engineer, who, being lame, used to be carried about in a litter, where
the works required his attendance, and for that reason was called
Periphoretus. But Heraclides Ponticus disproves this out of Anacreon's
poems, where mention is made of this Artemon Periphoretus several ages
before the Samian war, or any of these occurrences. And he says that
Artemon, being a man who loved his ease, and had a great apprehension
of danger, for the most part kept close within doors, having two of his
servants to hold a brazen shield over his head, that nothing might fall
upon him from above; and if he were at any time forced upon necessity
to go abroad, that he was carried about in a little hanging bed, close
to the very ground, and that for this reason he was called Periphoretus.
In the ninth month, the Samians surrendering themselves and delivering
up the town, Pericles pulled down their walls, and seized their
shipping, and set a fine of a large sum of money upon them, part of
which they paid down at once, and they agreed to bring in the rest by a
certain time, and gave hostages for security. Duris the Samian makes a
tragical drama out of these events, charging the Athenians and Pericles
with a great deal of cruelty, which neither Thucydides, nor Ephorus,
nor Aristotle have given any relation of, and probably with little
regard to truth; how, for example, he brought the captains and soldiers
of the galleys into the market-place at Miletus, and there having bound
them fast to boards for ten days, then, when they were already all but
half dead, gave order to have them killed by beating out their brains
with clubs, and their dead bodies to be flung out into the open streets
and fields, unburied. Duris, however, who even where he has no private
feeling concerned, is not wont to keep his narrative within the limits
of truth, is the more likely upon this occasion to have exaggerated the
calamities which befell his country, to create odium against the
Athenians. Pericles, however, after the reduction of Samos, returning
back to Athens, took care that those who died in the war should be
honorably buried, and made a funeral harangue, as the custom is, in
their commendation at their graves, for which he gained great
admiration. As he came down from the stage on which he spoke, the rest
of the women came and complimented him, taking him by the hand, and
crownings him with garlands and ribbons, like a victorious athlete in
the games; but Elpinice, coming near to him, said, "These are brave
deeds, Pericles, that you have done, and such as deserve our chaplets;
who have lost us many a worthy citizen, not in a war with Phoenicians
or Medes, like my brother Cimon, but for the overthrow of an allied and
kindred city." As Elpinice spoke these words, he, smiling quietly, as
it is said, returned her answer with this verse, --
Old women should not seek to be perfumed.
Ion says of him, that, upon this exploit of his, conquering the
Samians, he indulged very high and proud thoughts of himself: whereas
Agamemnon was ten years taking a barbarous city, he had in nine months'
time vanquished and taken the greatest and most powerful of the
Ionians. And indeed it was not without reason that he assumed this
glory to himself, for, in real truth, there was much uncertainty and
great hazard in this war, if so be, as Thucydides tells us, the Samian
state were within a very little of wresting the whole power and
dominion of the sea out of the Athenians' hands.
After this was over, the Peloponnesian war beginning to break out in
full tide, he advised the people to send help to the Corcyrseans, who
were attacked by the Corinthians, and to secure to themselves an island
possessed of great naval resources, since the Peloponnesians were
already all but in actual hostilities against them. The people readily
consenting to the motion, and voting an aid and succor for them, he
dispatched Lacedaemonius, Cimon's son, having only ten ships with him,
as it were out of a design to affront him; for there was a great
kindness and friendship betwixt Cimon's family and the Lacedaemonians;
so, in order that Lacedaemonius might lie the more open to a charge, or
suspicion at least, of favoring the Lacedaemonians and playing false,
if he performed no considerable exploit in this service, he allowed him
a small number of ships, and sent him out against his will; and indeed
he made it somewhat his business to hinder Cimon's sons from rising in
the state, professing that by their very names they were not to be
looked upon as native and true Athenians, but foreigners and strangers,
one being called Lacedaemonius, another Thessalus, and the third Eleus;
and they were all three of them, it was thought, born of an Arcadian
woman. Being, however, ill spoken of on account of these ten galleys,
as having afforded but a small supply to the people that were in need,
and yet given a great advantage to those who might complain of the act
of intervention, Pericles sent out a larger force afterward to Corcyra,
which arrived after the fight was over. And when now the Corinthians,
angry and indignant with the Athenians, accused them publicly at
Lacedaemon, the Megarians joined with them, complaining that they were,
contrary to common right and the articles of peace sworn to among the
Greeks, kept out and driven away from every market and from all ports
under the control of the Athenians. The Aeginetans, also, professing to
be ill-used and treated with violence, made supplications in private to
the Lacedaemonians for redress, though not daring openly to call the
Athenians in question. In the meantime, also, the city Potidaea, under
the dominion of the Athenians, but a colony formerly of the
Corinthians, had revolted, and was beset with a formal siege, and was a
further occasion of precipitating the war.
Yet notwithstanding all this, there being embassies sent to Athens, and
Archidamus, the king of the Lacedaemonians, endeavoring to bring the
greater part of the complaints and matters in dispute to a fair
determination, and to pacify and allay the heats of the allies, it is
very likely that the war would not upon any other grounds of quarrel
have fallen upon the Athenians, could they have been prevailed with to
repeal the ordinance against the Megarians, and to be reconciled to
them. Upon which account, since Pericles was the man who mainly opposed
it, and stirred up the people's passions to persist in their contention
with the Megarians, he was regarded as the sole cause of the war.
They say, moreover, that ambassadors went, by order from Lacedaemon to
Athens about this very business, and that when Pericles was urging a
certain law which made it illegal to take down or withdraw the tablet
of the decree, one of the ambassadors, Polyalces by name, said, "Well,
do not take it down then, but turn it; there is no law, I suppose,
which forbids that;" which, though prettily said, did not move Pericles
from his resolution. There may have been, in all likelihood, something
of a secret grudge and private animosity which he had against the
Megarians. Yet, upon a public and open charge against them, that they
had appropriated part of the sacred land on the frontier, he proposed a
decree that a herald should be sent to them, and the same also to the
Lacedaemonians, with an accusation of the Megarians; an order which
certainly shows equitable and friendly proceeding enough. And after
that the herald who was sent, by name Anthemocritus, died, and it was
believed that the Megarians had contrived his death, then Charinus
proposed a decree against them, that there should be an irreconcilable
and implacable enmity thenceforward betwixt the two commonwealths; and
that if any one of the Megarians should but set his foot in Attica, he
should be put to death; and that the commanders, when they take the
usual oath, should, over and above that, swear that they will twice
every year make an inroad into the Megarian country; and that
Anthemocritus should be buried near the Thriasian Gates, which are now
called the Dipylon, or Double Gate.
On the other hand, the Megarians, utterly denying and disowning the
murder of Anthemocritus, throw the whole matter upon Aspasia and
Pericles, availing themselves of the famous verses in the Acharnians,
To Megara some of our madcaps ran,
And stole Simaetha thence, their courtesan.
Which exploit the Megarians to outdo,
Came to Aspasia's house, and took off two.
The true occasion of the quarrel is not so easy to find out. But of
inducing the refusal to annul the decree, all alike charge Pericles.
Some say he met the request with a positive refusal, out of high spirit
and a view of the state's best interests, accounting that the demand
made in those embassies was designed for a trial of their compliance,
and that a concession would be taken for a confession of weakness, as
if they durst not do otherwise; while other some there are who say that
it was rather out of arrogance and a willful spirit of contention, to
show his own strength, that he took occasion to slight the
Lacedaemonians. The worst motive of all, which is confirmed by most
witnesses, is to the following effect. Phidias the Molder had, as has
before been said, undertaken to make the statue of Minerva. Now he,
being admitted to friendship with Pericles, and a great favorite of
his, had many enemies upon this account, who envied and maligned him;
who also, to make trial in a case of his, what kind of judges the
commons would prove, should there be occasion to bring Pericles himself
before them, having tampered with Menon, one who had been a workman
with Phidias, stationed him ill the market-place, with a petition
desiring public security upon his discovery and impeachment of Phidias.
The people admitting the man to tell his story, and the prosecution
proceeding in the assembly, there was nothing of theft or cheat proved
against him; for Phidias, from the very first beginning, by the advice
of Pericles, had so wrought and wrapt the gold that was used in the
work about the statue, that they might take it all off and make out the
just weight of it, which Pericles at that time bade the accusers do.
But the reputation of his works was what brought envy upon Phidias,
especially that where he represents the fight of the Amazons upon the
goddesses' shield, he had introduced a likeness of himself as a bald
old man holding up a great stone with both hands, and had put in a very
fine representation of Pericles fighting with an Amazon. And the
position of the hand, which holds out the spear in front of the face,
was ingeniously contrived to conceal in some degree the likeness,
which, meantime, showed itself on either side.
Phidias then was carried away to prison, and there died of a disease;
but, as some say, of poison, administered by the enemies of Pericles,
to raise a slander, or a suspicion, at least, as though he had procured
it. The informer Menon, upon Glycon's proposal, the people made free
from payment of taxes and customs, and ordered the generals to take
care that nobody should do him any hurt. About the same time, Aspasia
was indicted of impiety, upon the complaint of Hermippus the comedian,
who also laid further to her charge that she received into her house
freeborn women for the uses of Pericles. And Diopithes proposed a
decree, that public accusation should be laid against persons who
neglected religion, or taught new doctrines about things above,
directing suspicion, by means of Anaxagoras, against Pericles himself.
The people receiving and admitting these accusations and complaints, at
length, by this means, they came to enact a decree, at the motion of
Dracontides, that Pericles should bring in the accounts of the moneys
he had expended, and lodge them with the Prytanes; and that the judges,
carrying their suffrage from the altar in the Acropolis, should examine
and determine the business in the city. This last clause Hagnon took
out of the decree, and moved that the causes should be tried before
fifteen hundred jurors, whether they should be styled prosecutions for
robbery, or bribery, or any kind of malversation. Aspasia, Pericles
begged off, shedding, as Aeschines says, many tears at the trial, and
personally entreating the jurors. But fearing how it might go with
Anaxagoras, he sent him out of the city. And finding that in Phidias's
case he had miscarried with the people, being afraid of impeachment, he
kindled the war, which hitherto had lingered and smothered, and blew it
up into a flame; hoping, by that means, to disperse and scatter these
complaints and charges, and to allay their jealousy; the city usually
throwing herself upon him alone, and trusting to his sole conduct, upon
the urgency of great affairs and public dangers, by reason of his
authority and the sway he bore.
These are given out to have been the reasons which induced Pericles not
to suffer the people of Athens to yield to the proposals of the
Lacedaemonians; but their truth is uncertain.
The Lacedaemonians, for their part, feeling sure that if they could
once remove him, they might be at what terms they pleased with the
Athenians, sent them word that they should expel the "Pollution" with
which Pericles on the mother's side was tainted, as Thucydides tells
us. But the issue proved quite contrary to what those who sent the
message expected; instead of bringing Pericles under suspicion and
reproach, they raised him into yet greater credit and esteem with the
citizens, as a man whom their enemies most hated and feared. In the
same way, also, before Archidamus, who was at the head of the
Peloponnesians, made his invasion into Attica, he told the Athenians
beforehand, that if Archidamus, while he laid waste the rest of the
country, should forbear and spare his estate, either on the ground of
friendship or right of hospitality that was betwixt them, or on purpose
to give his enemies an occasion of traducing him, that then he did
freely bestow upon the state all that his land and the buildings upon
it for the public use. The Lacedaemonians, therefore, and their allies,
with a great army, invaded the Athenian territories, under the conduct
of king Archidamus, and laying waste the country, marched on as far as
Acharnae, and there pitched their camp, presuming that the Athenians
would never endure that, but would come out and fight them for their
country's and their honor's sake. But Pericles looked upon it as
dangerous to engage in battle, to the risk of the city itself, against
sixty thousand men-at- arms of Peloponnesians and Boeotians; for so
many they were in number that made the inroad at first; and he
endeavored to appease those who were desirous to fight, and were
grieved and discontented to see how things went, and gave them good
words, saying, that "trees, when they are lopped and cut, grow up again
in a short time but men, being once lost, cannot easily be recovered."
He did not convene the people into an assembly, for fear lest they
should force him to act against his judgment; but, like a skillful
steersman or pilot of a ship, who, when a sudden squall comes on, out
at sea, makes all his arrangements, sees that all is tight and fast,
and then follows the dictates of his skill, and minds the business of
the ship, taking no notice of the tears and entreaties of the sea-sick
and fearful passengers, so he, having shut up the city gates, and
placed guards at all posts for security, followed his own reason and
judgment, little regarding those that cried out against him and were
angry at his management, although there were a great many of his
friends that urged him with requests, and many of his enemies
threatened and accused him for doing as he did, and many made songs and
lampoons upon him, which were sung about the town to his disgrace,
reproaching him with the cowardly exercise of his office of general,
and the tame abandonment of everything to the enemy's hands.
Cleon, also, already was among his assailants, making use of the
feeling against him as a step to the leadership of the people, as
appears in the anapaestic verses of Hermippus.
Satyr-king, instead of swords, Will you always handle words? Very brave
indeed we find them, But a Teles lurks behind them.
Yet to gnash your teeth you're seen, When the little dagger keen,
Whetted every day anew, Of sharp Cleon touches you.
Pericles, however, was not at all moved by any attacks, but took all
patiently, and submitted in silence to the disgrace they threw upon him
and the ill-will they bore him; and, sending out a fleet of a hundred
galleys to Peloponnesus, he did not go along with it in person, but
stayed behind, that he might watch at home and keep the city under his
own control, till the Peloponnesians broke up their camp and were gone.
Yet to soothe the common people, jaded and distressed with the war, he
relieved them with distributions of public moneys, and ordained new
divisions of subject land. For having turned out all the people of
Aegina, he parted the island among the Athenians, according to lot.
Some comfort, also, and ease in their miseries, they might receive from
what their enemies endured. For the fleet, sailing round the
Peloponnese, ravaged a great deal of the country, and pillaged and
plundered the towns and smaller cities; and by land he himself entered
with an army the Megarian country, and made havoc of it all. Whence it
is clear that the Peloponnesians, though they did the Athenians much
mischief by land, yet suffering as much themselves from them by sea,
would not have protracted the war to such a length, but would quickly
have given it over, as Pericles at first foretold they would, had not
some divine power crossed human purposes.
In the first place, the pestilential disease, or plague, seized upon
the city, and ate up all the flower and prime of their youth and
strength. Upon occasion of which, the people, distempered and afflicted
in their souls, as well as in their bodies, were utterly enraged like
madmen against Pericles, and, like patients grown delirious, sought to
lay violent hands on their physician, or, as it were, their father.
They had been possessed, by his enemies, with the belief that the
occasion of the plague was the crowding of the country people together
into the town, forced as they were now, in the heat of the
summer-weather, to dwell many of them together even as they could, in
small tenements and stifling hovels, and to be tied to a lazy course of
life within doors, whereas before they lived in a pure, open, and free
air. The cause and author of all this, said they, is he who on account
of the war has poured a multitude of people from the country in upon us
within the walls, and uses all these many men that he has here upon no
employ or service, but keeps them pent up like cattle, to be overrun
with infection from one another, affording them neither shift of
quarters nor any refreshment.
With the design to remedy these evils, and do the enemy some
inconvenience, Pericles got a hundred and fifty galleys ready, and
having embarked many tried soldiers, both foot and horse, was about to
sail out, giving great hope to his citizens, and no less alarm to his
enemies, upon the sight of so great a force. And now the vessels having
their complement of men, and Pericles being gone aboard his own galley,
it happened that the sun was eclipsed, and it grew dark on a sudden, to
the affright of all, for this was looked upon as extremely ominous.
Pericles, therefore, perceiving the steersman seized with fear and at a
loss what to do, took his cloak and held it up before the man's face,
and, screening him with it so that he could not see, asked him whether
he imagined there was any great hurt, or the sign of any great hurt in
this, and he answering No, "Why," said he, "and what does that differ
from this, only that what has caused that darkness there, is something
greater than a cloak?" This is a story which philosophers tell their
scholars. Pericles, however after putting out to sea, seems not to have
done any other exploit befitting such preparations, and when he had
laid siege to the holy city Epidaurus, which gave him some hope of
surrender, miscarried in his design by reason of the sickness. For it
not only seized upon the Athenians, but upon all others, too, that held
any sort of communication with the army. Finding after this the
Athenians ill affected and highly displeased with him, he tried and
endeavored what he could to appease and re-encourage them. But he could
not pacify or allay their anger, nor persuade or prevail with them any
way, till they freely passed their votes upon him, resumed their power,
took away his command from him, and fined him in a sum of money; which,
by their account that say least, was fifteen talents, while they who
reckon most, name fifty. The name prefixed to the accusation was Cleon,
as Idomeneus tells us; Simmias, according to Theophrastus; and
Heraclides Ponticus gives it as Lacratidas.
After this, public troubles were soon to leave him unmolested; the
people, so to say, discharged their passion in their stroke, and lost
their stings in the wound. But his domestic concerns were in an unhappy
condition many of his friends and acquaintance having died in the
plague time, and those of his family having long since been in disorder
and in a kind of mutiny against him. For the eldest of his lawfully
begotten sons, Xanthippus by name, being naturally prodigal, and
marrying a young and expensive wife, the daughter of Tisander, son of
Epilycus, was highly offended at his father's economy in making him but
a scanty allowance, by little and little at a time. He sent, therefore,
to a friend one day, and borrowed some money of him in his father
Pericles's name, pretending it was by his order. The man coming
afterward to demand the debt, Pericles was so far from yielding to pay
it, that he entered an action against him. Upon which the young man,
Xanthippus, thought himself so ill used and disobliged, that he openly
reviled his father; telling first, by way of ridicule, stories about
his conversations at home, and the discourses he had with the sophists
and scholars that came to his house. As for instance, how one who was a
practicer of the five games of skill, having with a dart or javelin
unawares against his will struck and killed Epitimus the Pharsalian,
his father spent a whole day with Protagoras in a serious dispute,
whether the javelin, or the man that threw it, or the masters of the
games who appointed these sports, were, according to the strictest and
best reason, to be accounted the cause of this mischance. Besides this,
Stesimbrotus tells us that it was Xanthippus who spread abroad among
the people the infamous story concerning his own wife; and in general
that this difference of the young man's with his father, and the breach
betwixt them, continued never to be healed or made up till his death.
For Xanthippus died in the plague time of the sickness. At which time
Pericles also lost his sister, and the greatest part of his relations
and friends, and those who had been most useful and serviceable to him
in managing the affairs of state. However, he did not shrink or give in
upon these occasions, nor betray or lower his high spirit and the
greatness of his mind under all his misfortunes; he was not even so
much as seen to weep or to mourn, or even attend the burial of any of
his friends or relations, till at last he lost his only remaining
legitimate son. Subdued by this blow and yet striving still, as far as
he could, to maintain his principle and to preserve and keep up the
greatness of his soul when he came, however, to perform the ceremony of
putting a garland of flowers upon the head of the corpse, he was
vanquished by his passion at the sight, so that he burst into
exclamations, and shed copious tears, having never done any such thing
in all his life before.
The city having made trial of other generals for the conduct of war,
and orators for business of state, when they found there was no one who
was of weight enough for such a charge, or of authority sufficient to
be trusted with so great a command, regretted the loss of him, and
invited him again to address and advise them, and to reassume the
office of general. He, however, lay at home in dejection and mourning;
but was persuaded by Alcibiades and others of his friends to come
abroad and show himself to the people; who having, upon his appearance,
made their acknowledgments, and apologized for their untowardly
treatment of him, he undertook the public affairs once more; and, being
chosen general, requested that the statute concerning base-born
children, which he himself had formerly caused to be made, might be
suspended; that so the name and race of his family might not, for
absolute want of a lawful heir to succeed, be wholly lost and
extinguished. The case of the statute was thus: Pericles, when long ago
at the height of his power in the state, having then, as has been said,
children lawfully begotten, proposed a law that those only should be
reputed true citizens of Athens who were born of such parents as were
both Athenians. After this, the king of Egypt having sent to the
people, by way of present, forty thousand bushels of wheat, which were
to be shared out among the citizens, a great many actions and suits
about legitimacy occurred, by virtue of that edict; cases which, till
that time, had not been known nor taken notice of; and several persons
suffered by false accusations. There were little less than five
thousand who were convicted and sold for slaves; those who, enduring
the test, remained in the government and passed muster for true
Athenians were found upon the poll to be fourteen thousand and forty
persons in number.
It looked strange, that a law, which had been carried so far against so
many people, should be canceled again by the same man that made it; yet
the present calamity and distress which Pericles labored under in his
family broke through all objections, and prevailed with the Athenians
to pity him, as one whose losses and misfortunes had sufficiently
punished his former arrogance and haughtiness. His sufferings deserved,
they thought, their pity, and even indignation, and his request was
such as became a man to ask and men to grant; they gave him permission
to enroll his son in the register of his fraternity, giving him his own
name. This son afterward, after having defeated the Peloponnesians at
Arginusae, was, with his fellow-generals, put to death by the people.
About the time when his son was enrolled, it should seem, the plague
seized Pericles, not with sharp and violent fits, as it did others that
had it, but with a dull and lingering distemper, attended with various
changes and alterations, leisurely, by little and little, wasting the
strength of his body, and undermining the noble faculties of his soul.
So that Theophrastus, in his Morals, when discussing whether men's
characters change with their circumstances, and their moral habits,
disturbed by the ailings of their bodies, start aside from the rules of
virtue, has left it upon record, that Pericles, when he was sick,
showed one of his friends that came to visit him, an amulet or charm
that the women had hung about his neck; as much as to say, that he was
very sick indeed when he would admit of such a foolery as that was.
When he was now near his end, the best of the citizens and those of his
friends who were left alive, sitting about him, were speaking of the
greatness of his merit, and his power, and reckoning up his famous
actions and the number of his victories; for there were no less than
nine trophies, which, as their chief commander and conqueror of their
enemies, he had set up, for the honor of the city. They talked thus
together among themselves, as though he were unable to understand or
mind what they said, but had now lost his consciousness. He had
listened, however, all the while, and attended to all, and speaking out
among them, said, that he wondered they should commend and take notice
of things which were as much owing to fortune as to anything else, and
had happened to many other commanders, and, at the same time, should
not speak or make mention of that which was the most excellent and
greatest thing of all. "For," said he, "no Athenian, through my means,
ever wore mourning."
He was indeed a character deserving our high admiration, not only for
his equitable and mild temper, which all along in the many affairs of
his life, and the great animosities which he incurred, he constantly
maintained; but also for the high spirit and feeling which made him
regard it the noblest of all his honors that, in the exercise of such
immense power, he never had gratified his envy or his passion, nor ever
had treated any enemy as irreconcilably opposed to him. And to me it
appears that this one thing gives that otherwise childish and arrogant
title a fitting and becoming significance; so dispassionate a temper, a
life so pure and unblemished, in the height of power and place, might
well be called Olympian, in accordance with our conceptions of the
divine beings, to whom, as the natural authors of all good and of
nothing evil, we ascribe the rule and government of the world. Not as
the poets represent, who, while confounding us with their ignorant
fancies, are themselves confuted by their own poems and fictions, and
call the place, indeed, where they say the gods make their abode, a
secure and quiet seat, free from all hazards and commotions, untroubled
with winds or with clouds, and equally through all time illumined with
a soft serenity and a pure light, as though such were a home most
agreeable for a blessed and immortal nature; and yet, in the meanwhile,
affirm that the gods themselves are full of trouble and enmity and
anger and other passions, which no way become or belong to even men
that have any understanding. But this will, perhaps, seem a subject
fitter for some other consideration, and that ought to be treated of in
some other place.
The course of public affairs after his death produced a quick and
speedy sense of the loss of Pericles. Those who, while he lived,
resented his great authority, as that which eclipsed themselves,
presently after his quitting the stage, making trial of other orators
and demagogues, readily acknowledged that there never had been in
nature such a disposition as his was, more moderate and reasonable in
the height of that state he took upon him, or more grave and impressive
in the mildness which he used. And that invidious arbitrary power, to
which formerly they gave the name of monarchy and tyranny, did then
appear to have been the chief bulwark of public safety; so great a
corruption and such a flood of mischief and vice followed, which he, by
keeping weak and low, had withheld from notice, and had prevented from
attaining incurable height through a licentious impunity.
FABIUS
Having related the memorable actions of Pericles, our history now
proceeds to the life of Fabius. A son of Hercules and a nymph, or some
woman of that country, who brought him forth on the banks of Tiber,
was, it is said, the first Fabius, the founder of the numerous and
distinguished family of the name. Others will have it that they were
first called Fodii, because the first of the race delighted in digging
pitfalls for wild beasts, fodere being still the Latin for to dig, and
fossa for a ditch, and that in process of time, by the change of the
two letters they grew to be called Fabii. But be these things true or
false, certain it is that this family for a long time yielded a great
number of eminent persons. Our Fabius, who was fourth in descent from
that Fabius Rullus who first brought the honorable surname of Maximus
into his family, was also, by way of personal nickname, called
Verrucosus, from a wart on his upper lip; and in his childhood they in
like manner named him Ovicula, or The Lamb, on account of his extreme
mildness of temper. His slowness in speaking, his long labor and pains
in learning, his deliberation in entering into the sports of other
children, his easy submission to everybody, as if he had no will of his
own, made those who judged superficially of him, the greater number,
esteem him insensible and stupid; and few only saw that this tardiness
proceeded from stability, and discerned the greatness of his mind, and
the lionlikeness of his temper. But as soon as he came into
employments, his virtues exerted and showed themselves; his reputed
want of energy then was recognized by people in general, as a freedom
of passion; his slowness in words and actions, the effect of a true
prudence; his want of rapidity, and his sluggishness, as constancy and
firmness.
Living in a great commonwealth, surrounded by many enemies, he saw the
wisdom of inuring his body (nature's own weapon) to warlike exercises,
and disciplining his tongue for public oratory in a style comformable
to his life and character. His eloquence, indeed, had not much of
popular ornament, nor empty artifice, but there was in it great weight
of sense; it was strong and sententious, much after the way of
Thucydides. We have yet extant his funeral oration upon the death of
his son, who died consul, which he recited before the people.
He was five times consul, and in his first consulship had the honor of
a triumph for the victory he gained over the Ligurians, whom he
defeated in a set battle, and drove them to take shelter in the Alps,
from whence they never after made any inroad nor depredation upon their
neighbors. After this, Hannibal came into Italy, who, at his first
entrance, having gained a great battle near the river Trebia, traversed
all Tuscany with his victorious army, and, desolating the country round
about, filled Rome itself with astonishment and terror. Besides the
more common signs of thunder and lightning then happening, the report
of several unheard of and utterly strange portents much increased the
popular consternation. For it was said that some targets sweated blood;
that at Antium, when they reaped their corn, many of the ears were
filled with blood; that it had rained redhot stones; that the Falerians
had seen the heavens open and several scrolls falling down, in one of
which was plainly written, "Mars himself stirs his arms." But these
prodigies had no effect upon the impetuous and fiery temper of the
consul Flaminius, whose natural promptness had been much heightened by
his late unexpected victory over the Gauls, when he fought them
contrary to the order of the senate and the advice of his colleague.
Fabius, on the other side, thought it not seasonable to engage with the
enemy; not that he much regarded the prodigies, which he thought too
strange to be easily understood, though many were alarmed by them; but
in regard that the Carthaginians were but few, and in want of money and
supplies, he deemed it best not to meet in the field a general whose
army had been tried in many encounters, and whose object was a battle,
but to send aid to their allies, control the movements of the various
subject cities, and let the force and vigor of Hannibal waste away and
expire, like a flame, for want of aliment.
These weighty reasons did not prevail with Flaminius, who protested he
would never suffer the advance of the enemy to the city, nor be
reduced, like Camillus in former time, to fight for Rome within the
walls of Rome. Accordingly he ordered the tribunes to draw out the army
into the field; and though he himself, leaping on horseback to go out,
was no sooner mounted but the beast, without any apparent cause, fell
into so violent a fit of trembling and bounding that he cast his rider
headlong on the ground, he was no ways deterred; but proceeded as he
had begun, and marched forward up to Hannibal, who was posted near the
Lake Thrasymene in Tuscany. At the moment of this engagement, there
happened so great an earthquake, that it destroyed several towns,
altered the course of rivers, and carried off parts of high cliffs, yet
such was the eagerness of the combatants, that they were entirely
insensible of it.
In this battle Flaminius fell, after many proofs of his strength and
courage, and round about him all the bravest of the army, in the whole,
fifteen thousand were killed, and as many made prisoners. Hannibal,
desirous to bestow funeral honors upon the body of Flaminius, made
diligent search after it, but could not find it among the dead, nor was
it ever known what became of it. Upon the former engagement near
Trebia, neither the general who wrote, nor the express who told the
news, used straightforward and direct terms, nor related it otherwise
than as a drawn battle, with equal loss on either side; but on this
occasion, as soon as Pomponius the praetor had the intelligence, he
caused the people to assemble, and, without disguising or dissembling
the matter, told them plainly, "We are beaten, O Romans, in a great
battle; the consul Flaminius is killed; think, therefore, what is to be
done for your safety." Letting loose his news like a gale of wind upon
an open sea, he threw the city into utter confusion: in such
consternation, their thoughts found no support or stay. The danger at
hand at last awakened their judgments into a resolution to choose a
dictator, who, by the sovereign authority of his office and by his
personal wisdom and courage, might be able to manage the public
affairs. Their choice unanimously fell upon Fabius, whose character
seemed equal to the greatness of the office; whose age was so far
advanced as to give him experience, without taking from him the vigor
of action; his body could execute what his soul designed; and his
temper was a happy compound of confidence and cautiousness.
Fabius, being thus installed in the office of dictator, in the first
place gave the command of the horse to Lucius Minucius; and next asked
leave of the senate for himself, that in time of battle he might serve
on horseback, which by an ancient law amongst the Romans was forbid to
their generals; whether it were, that, placing their greatest strength
in their foot, they would have their commanders-in-chief posted amongst
them, or else to let them know, that, how great and absolute soever
their authority were, the people and senate were still their masters,
of whom they must ask leave. Fabius, however, to make the authority of
his charge more observable, and to render the people more submissive
and obedient to him, caused himself to be accompanied with the full
body of four and twenty lictors; and, when the surviving consul came to
visit him, sent him word to dismiss his lictors with their fasces, the
ensigns of authority, and appear before him as a private person.
The first solemn action of his dictatorship was very fitly a religious
one: an admonition to the people, that their late overthrow had not
befallen them through want of courage in their soldiers, but through
the neglect of divine ceremonies in the general. He therefore exhorted
them not to fear the enemy, but by extraordinary honor to propitiate
the gods. This he did, not to fill their minds with superstition, but
by religious feeling to raise their courage, and lessen their fear of
the enemy by inspiring the belief that Heaven was on their side. With
this view, the secret prophecies called the Sibylline Books were
consulted; sundry predictions found in them were said to refer to the
fortunes and events of the time; but none except the consulter was
informed. Presenting himself to the people, the dictator made a vow
before them to offer in sacrifice the whole product of the next season,
all Italy over, of the cows, goats, swine, sheep, both in the mountains
and the plains; and to celebrate musical festivities with an
expenditure of the precise sum of 333 sestertia and 333 denarii, with
one third of a denarius over. The sum total of which is, in our money,
83,583 drachmas and 2 obols. What the mystery might be in that exact
number is not easy to determine, unless it were in honor of the
perfection of the number three, as being the first of odd numbers, the
first that contains in itself multiplication, with all other properties
whatsoever belonging to numbers in general.
In this manner Fabius having given the people better heart for the
future, by making them believe that the gods took their side, for his
own part placed his whole confidence in himself, believing that the
gods bestowed victory and good fortune by the instrumentality of valor
and of prudence; and thus prepared he set forth to oppose Hannibal, not
with intention to fight him, but with the purpose of wearing out and
wasting the vigor of his arms by lapse of time, of meeting his want of
resources by superior means, by large numbers the smallness of his
forces. With this design, he always encamped on the highest grounds,
where the enemy's horse could have no access to him. Still he kept pace
with them; when they marched he followed them, when they encamped he
did the same, but at such a distance as not to be compelled to an
engagement, and always keeping upon the hills, free from the insults of
their horse; by which means he gave them no rest, but kept them in a
continual alarm.
But this his dilatory way gave occasion in his own camp for suspicion
of want of courage; and this opinion prevailed yet more in Hannibal's
army. Hannibal was himself the only man who was not deceived, who
discerned his skill and detected his tactics, and saw, unless he could
by art or force bring him to battle, that the Carthaginians, unable to
use the arms in which they were superior, and suffering the continual
drain of lives and treasure in which they were inferior, would in the
end come to nothing. He resolved, therefore, with all the arts and
subtilties of war to break his measures, and to bring Fabius to an
engagement; like a cunning wrestler, watching every opportunity to get
good hold and close with his adversary. He at one time attacked, and
sought to distract his attention, tried to draw him off in various
directions, endeavored in all ways to tempt him from his safe policy.
All this artifice, though it had no effect upon the firm judgment and
conviction of the dictator. yet upon the common soldier and even upon
the general of the horse himself, it had too great an operation:
Minucius, unseasonably eager for action, bold and confident, humored
the soldiery, and himself contributed to fill them with wild eagerness
and empty hopes, which they vented in reproaches upon Fabius, calling
him Hannibal's pedagogue, since he did nothing else but follow him up
and down and wait upon him. At the same time, they cried up Minucius
for the only captain worthy to command the Romans; whose vanity and
presumption rose so high in consequence, that he insolently jested at
Fabius's encampments upon the mountains, saying that he seated them
there as on a theater, to behold the flames and desolation of their
country. And he would sometimes ask the friends of the general, whether
it were not his meaning, by thus leading them from mountain to
mountain, to carry them at last (having no hopes on earth) up into
heaven, or to hide them in the clouds from Hannibal's army? When his
friends reported these things to the dictator, persuading him that, to
avoid the general obloquy, he should engage the enemy, his answer was,
"I should be more fainthearted than they make me, if, through fear of
idle reproaches, I should abandon my own convictions. It is no
inglorious thing to have fear for the safety of our country, but to be
turned from one's course by men's opinions, by blame, and by
misrepresentation, shows a man unfit to hold an office such as this,
which, by such conduct, he makes the slave of those whose errors it is
his business to control."
An oversight of Hannibal occurred soon after. Desirous to refresh his
horse in some good pasture-grounds, and to draw off his army, he
ordered his guides to conduct him to the district of Casinum. They,
mistaking his bad pronunciation, led him and his army to the town of
Casilinum, on the frontier of Campania which the river Lothronus,
called by the Romans Vulturnus, divides in two parts. The country
around is enclosed by mountains, with a valley opening towards the sea,
in which the river overflowing forms a quantity of marsh land with deep
banks of sand, and discharges itself into the sea on a very unsafe and
rough shore. While Hannibal was proceeding hither, Fabius, by his
knowledge of the roads, succeeded in making his way around before him,
and dispatched four thousand choice men to seize the exit from it and
stop him up, and lodged the rest of his army upon the neighboring hills
in the most advantageous places; at the same time detaching a party of
his lightest armed men to fall upon Hannibal's rear; which they did
with such success, that they cut off eight hundred of them, and put the
whole army in disorder. Hannibal, finding the error and the danger he
was fallen into, immediately crucified the guides; but considered the
enemy to be so advantageously posted, that there was no hopes of
breaking through them; while his soldiers began to be despondent and
terrified, and to think themselves surrounded with embarrassments too
difficult to be surmounted.
Thus reduced, Hannibal had recourse to stratagem; he caused two
thousand head of oxen which he had in his camp, to have torches or dry
fagots well fastened to their horns, and lighting them in the beginning
of the night, ordered the beasts to be driven on towards the heights
commanding the passages out of the valley and the enemy's posts; when
this was done, he made his army in the dark leisurely march after them.
The oxen at first kept a slow, orderly pace, and with their lighted
heads resembled an army marching by night, astonishing the shepherds
and herds men of the hills about. But when the fire had burnt down the
horns of the beasts to the quick, they no longer observed their sober
pace, but, unruly and wild with their pain, ran dispersed about,
tossing their heads and scattering the fire round about them upon each
other and setting light as they passed to the trees. This was a
surprising spectacle to the Romans on guard upon the heights. Seeing
flames which appeared to come from men advancing with torches, they
were possessed with the alarm that the enemy was approaching in various
quarters, and that they were being surrounded; and, quitting their
post, abandoned the pass, and precipitately retired to their camp on
the hills. They were no sooner gone, but the light-armed of Hannibal's
men, according to his order, immediately seized the heights, and soon
after the whole army, with all the baggage, came up and safely marched
through the passes.
Fabius, before the night was over, quickly found out the trick; for
some of the beasts fell into his hands; but for fear of an ambush in
the dark, he kept his men all night to their arms in the camp. As soon
as it was day, he attacked the enemy in the rear, where, after a good
deal of skirmishing in the uneven ground, the disorder might have
become general, but that Hannibal detached from his van a body of
Spaniards, who, of themselves active and nimble, were accustomed to the
climbing of mountains. These briskly attacked the Roman troops who were
in heavy armor, killed a good many, and left Fabius no longer in
condition to follow the enemy. This action brought the extreme of
obloquy and contempt upon the dictator; they said it was now manifest
that he was not only inferior to his adversary, as they had always
thought, in courage, but even in that conduct, foresight, and
generalship, by which he had proposed to bring the war to an end.
And Hannibal, to enhance their anger against him, marched with his army
close to the lands and possessions of Fabius, and, giving orders to his
soldiers to burn and destroy all the country about, forbade them to do
the least damage in the estates of the Roman general, and placed guards
for their security. This, when reported at Rome, had the effect with
the people which Hannibal desired. Their tribunes raised a thousand
stories against him, chiefly at the instigation of Metilius, who, not
so much out of hatred to him as out of friendship to Minucius, whose
kinsman he was, thought by depressing Fabius to raise his friend. The
senate on their part were also offended with him, for the bargain he
had made with Hannibal about the exchange of prisoners, the conditions
of which were, that, after exchange made of man for man, if any on
either side remained, they should be redeemed at the price of two
hundred and fifty drachmas a head. Upon the whole account, there
remained two hundred and forty Romans unexchanged, and the senate now
not only refused to allow money for the ransoms, but also reproached
Fabius for making a contract, contrary to the honor and interest of the
commonwealth, for redeeming men whose cowardice had put them in the
hands of the enemy. Fabius heard and endured all this with invincible
patience; and, having no money by him, and on the other side being
resolved to keep his word with Hannibal and not to abandon the
captives, he dispatched his son to Rome to sell land, and to bring with
him the price, sufficient to discharge the ransoms; which was
punctually performed by his son, and delivery accordingly made to him
of the prisoners, amongst whom many, when they were released, made
proposals to repay the money; which Fabius in all cases declined.
About this time, he was called to Rome by the priests, to assist,
according to the duty of his office, at certain sacrifices, and was
thus forced to leave the command of the army with Minucius; but before
he parted, not only charged him as his commander-in-chief, but besought
and entreated him, not to come, in his absence, to a battle with
Hannibal. His commands, entreaties, and advice were lost upon Minucius;
for his back was no sooner turned but the new general immediately
sought occasions to attack the enemy. And notice being brought him that
Hannibal had sent out a great part of his army to forage, he fell upon
a detachment of the remainder, doing great execution, and driving them
to their very camp, with no little terror to the rest, who apprehended
their breaking in upon them; and when Hannibal had recalled his
scattered forces to the camp, he, nevertheless, without any loss, made
his retreat, a success which aggravated his boldness and presumption,
and filled the soldiers with rash confidence. The news spread to Rome,
where Fabius, on being told it, said that what he most feared was
Minucius's success: but the people, highly elated, hurried to the forum
to listen to an address from Metilius the tribune, in which he
infinitely extolled the valor of Minucius, and fell bitterly upon
Fabius, accusing him for want not merely of courage, but even of
loyalty; and not only him, but also many other eminent and considerable
persons; saying that it was they that had brought the Carthaginians
into Italy, with the design to destroy the liberty of the people; for
which end they had at once put the supreme authority into the hands of
a single person, who by his slowness and delays might give Hannibal
leisure to establish himself in Italy, and the people of Carthage time
and opportunity to supply him with fresh succors to complete his
conquests
Fabius came forward with no intention to answer the tribune, but only
said, that they should expedite the sacrifices, that so he might
speedily return to the army to punish Minucius, who had presumed to
fight contrary to his orders; words which immediately possessed the
people with the belief that Minucius stood in danger of his life. For
it was in the power of the dictator to imprison and to put to death,
and they feared that Fabius, of a mild temper in general, would be as
hard to be appeased when once irritated, as he was slow to be provoked.
Nobody dared to raise his voice in opposition. Metilius alone, whose
office of tribune gave him security to say what he pleased (for in the
time of a dictatorship that magistrate alone preserves his authority),
boldly applied himself to the people in the behalf of Minucius: that
they should not suffer him to be made a sacrifice to the enmity of
Fabius, nor permit him to be destroyed, like the son of Manlius
Torquatus, who was beheaded by his father for a victory fought and
triumphantly won against order; he exhorted them to take away from
Fabius that absolute power of a dictator, and to put it into more
worthy hands, better able and more inclined to use it for the public
good. These impressions very much prevailed upon the people, though not
so far as wholly to dispossess Fabius of the dictatorship. But they
decreed that Minucius should have an equal authority with the dictator
in the conduct of the war; which was a thing then without precedent,
though a little later it was again practiced after the disaster at
Cannae; when the dictator, Marcus Junius, being with the army, they
chose at Rome Fabius Buteo dictator, that he might create new senators,
to supply the numerous places of those who were killed. But as soon as,
once acting in public, he had filled those vacant places with a
sufficient number, he immediately dismissed his lictors, and withdrew
from all his attendance, and, mingling like a common person with the
rest of the people, quietly went about his own affairs in the forum.
The enemies of Fabius thought they had sufficiently humiliated and
subdued him by raising Minucius to be his equal in authority; but they
mistook the temper of the man, who looked upon their folly as not his
loss, but like Diogenes, who, being told that some persons derided him,
made answer, "But I am not derided," meaning that only those were
really insulted on whom such insults made an impression, so Fabius,
with great tranquillity and unconcern, submitted to what happened, and
contributed a proof to the argument of the philosophers that a just and
good man is not capable of being dishonored. His only vexation arose
from his fear lest this ill counsel, by supplying opportunities to the
diseased military ambition of his subordinate, should damage the public
cause. Lest the rashness of Minucius should now at once run headlong
into some disaster, he returned back with all privacy and speed to the
army; where he found Minucius so elevated with his new dignity, that, a
joint-authority not contenting him, he required by turns to have the
command of the army every other day. This Fabius rejected, but was
contented that the army should be divided; thinking each general singly
would better command his part, than partially command the whole. The
first and fourth legion he took for his own division, the second and
third he delivered to Minucius; so also of the auxiliary forces each
had an equal share.
Minucius, thus exalted, could not contain himself from boasting of his
success in humiliating the high and powerful office of the
dictatorship. Fabius quietly reminded him that it was, in all wisdom,
Hannibal, and not Fabius, whom he had to combat; but if he must needs
contend with his colleague, it had best be in diligence and care for
the preservation of Rome; that it might not be said, a man so favored
by the people served them worse than he who had been ill-treated and
disgraced by them.
The young general, despising these admonitions as the false humility of
age, immediately removed with the body of his army, and encamped by
himself. Hannibal, who was not ignorant of all these passages, lay
watching his advantage from them. It happened that between his army and
that of Minucius there was a certain eminence, which seemed a very
advantageous and not difficult post to encamp upon; the level field
around it appeared, from a distance, to be all smooth and even, though
it had many inconsiderable ditches and dips in it, not discernible to
the eye. Hannibal, had he pleased, could easily have possessed himself
of this ground; but he had reserved it for a bait, or train, in proper
season, to draw the Romans to an engagement. Now that Minucius and
Fabius were divided, he thought the opportunity fair for his purpose;
and, therefore, having in the night time lodged a convenient number of
his men in these ditches and hollow places, early in the morning he
sent forth a small detachment, who, in the sight of Minucius, proceeded
to possess themselves of the rising ground. According to his
expectation, Minucius swallowed the bait, and first sends out his light
troops, and after them some horse, to dislodge the enemy; and, at last,
when he saw Hannibal in person advancing to the assistance of his men,
marched down with his whole army drawn up. He engaged with the troops
on the eminence, and sustained their missiles; the combat for some time
was equal; but as soon as Hannibal perceived that the whole army was
now sufficiently advanced within the toils he had set for them, so that
their backs were open to his men whom he had posted in the hollows, he
gave the signal; upon which they rushed forth from various quarters,
and with loud cries furiously attacked Minucius in the rear. The
surprise and the slaughter was great, and struck universal alarm and
disorder through the whole army. Minucius himself lost all his
confidence; he looked from officer to officer, and found all alike
unprepared to face the danger, and yielding to a flight, which,
however, could not end in safety. The Numidian horsemen were already in
full victory riding about the plain, cutting down the fugitives.
Fabius was not ignorant of this danger of his countrymen; he foresaw
what would happen from the rashness of Minucius, and the cunning of
Hannibal; and, therefore, kept his men to their arms, in readiness to
wait the event; nor would he trust to the reports of others, but he
himself, in front of his camp, viewed all that passed. When, therefore,
he saw the army of Minucius encompassed by the enemy, and that by their
countenance and shifting their ground, they appeared more disposed to
flight than to resistance, with a great sigh, striking his hand upon
his thigh, he said to those about him, "O Hercules! how much sooner
than I expected, though later than he seemed to desire, hath Minucius
destroyed himself!" He then commanded the ensigns to be led forward and
the army to follow, telling them, "We must make haste to rescue
Minucius, who is a valiant man, and a lover of his country; and if he
hath been too forward to engage the enemy, at another time we will tell
him of it." Thus, at the head of his men, Fabius marched up to the
enemy, and first cleared the plain of the Numidians; and next fell upon
those who were charging the Romans in the rear, cutting down all that
made opposition, and obliging the rest to save themselves by a hasty
retreat, lest they should be environed as the Romans had been.
Hannibal, seeing so sudden a change of affairs, and Fabius, beyond the
force of his age, opening his way through the ranks up the hill-side,
that he might join Minucius, warily forbore, sounded a retreat, and
drew off his men into their camp; while the Romans on their part were
no less contented to retire in safety. It is reported that upon this
occasion Hannibal said jestingly to his friends: "Did not I tell you,
that this cloud which always hovered upon the mountains would, at some
time or other, come down with a storm upon us?"
Fabius, after his men had picked up the spoils of the field, retired to
his own camp, without saying any harsh or reproachful thing to his
colleague; who also on his part, gathering his army together, spoke and
said to them: "To conduct great matters and never commit a fault is
above the force of human nature; but to learn and improve by the faults
we have committed, is that which becomes a good and sensible man. Some
reasons I may have to accuse fortune, but I have many more to thank
her; for in a few hours she hath cured a long mistake, and taught me
that I am not the man who should command others, but have need of
another to command me; and that we are not to contend for victory over
those to whom it is our advantage to yield. Therefore in everything
else henceforth the dictator must be your commander; only in showing
gratitude towards him I will still be your leader, and always be the
first to obey his orders." Having said this, he commanded the Roman
eagles to move forward, and all his men to follow him to the camp of
Fabius. The soldiers, then, as he entered, stood amazed at the novelty
of the sight, and were anxious and doubtful what the meaning might be.
When he came near the dictator's tent, Fabius went forth to meet him,
on which he at once laid his standards at his feet, calling him with a
loud voice his father; while the soldiers with him saluted the soldiers
here as their patrons, the term employed by freedmen to those who gave
them their liberty. After silence was obtained, Minucius said, "You
have this day, O dictator, obtained two victories; one by your valor
and conduct over Hannibal, and another by your wisdom and goodness over
your colleague; by one victory you preserved, and by the other
instructed us; and when we were already suffering one shameful defeat
from Hannibal, by another welcome one from you we were restored to
honor and safety. I can address you by no nobler name than that of a
kind father, though a father's beneficence falls short of that I have
received from you. From a father I individually received the gift of
life; to you I owe its preservation not for myself only, but for all
these who are under me." After this, he threw himself into the arms of
the dictator; and in the same manner the soldiers of each army embraced
one another with gladness and tears of joy.
Not long after, Fabius laid down the dictatorship, and consuls were
again created. Those who immediately succeeded, observed the same
method in managing the war, and avoided all occasions of fighting
Hannibal in a pitched battle; they only succored their allies, and
preserved the towns from falling off to the enemy. but afterwards, when
Terentius Varro, a man of obscure birth, but very popular and bold, had
obtained the consulship, he soon made it appear that by his rashness
and ignorance he would stake the whole commonwealth on the hazard. For
it was his custom to declaim in all assemblies, that, as long as Rome
employed generals like Fabius there never would be an end of the war;
vaunting that whenever he should get sight of the enemy, he would that
same day free Italy from the strangers. With these promises he so
prevailed, that he raised a greater army than had ever yet been sent
out of Rome. There were enlisted eighty-eight thousand fighting men;
but what gave confidence to the populace, only terrified the wise and
experienced, and none more than Fabius; since if so great a body, and
the flower of the Roman youth, should be cut off, they could not see
any new resource for the safety of Rome. They addressed themselves,
therefore, to the other consul, Aemilius Paulus, a man of great
experience in war, but unpopular, and fearful also of the people, who
once before upon some impeachment had condemned him; so that he needed
encouragement to withstand his colleague's temerity. Fabius told him,
if he would profitably serve his country, he must no less oppose
Varro's ignorant eagerness than Hannibal's conscious readiness, since
both alike conspired to decide the fate of Rome by a battle. "It is
more reasonable," he said to him, "that you should believe me than
Varro, in matters relating to Hannibal, when I tell you, that if for
this year you abstain from fighting with him, either his army will
perish of itself, or else he will be glad to depart of his own will.
This evidently appears, inasmuch as, notwithstanding his victories,
none of the countries or towns of Italy come in to him, and his army is
not now the third part of what it was at first." To this Paulus is said
to have replied, "Did I only consider myself, I should rather choose to
be exposed to the weapons of Hannibal than once more to the suffrages
of my fellow-citizens, who are urgent for what you disapprove; yet
since the cause of Rome is at stake, I will rather seek in my conduct
to please and obey Fabius than all the world besides."
These good measures were defeated by the importunity of Varro; whom,
when they were both come to the army, nothing would content but a
separate command, that each consul should have his day; and when his
turn came, he posted his army close to Hannibal, at a village called
Cannae, by the river Aufidus. It was no sooner day, but he set up the
scarlet coat flying over his tent, which was the signal of battle. This
boldness of the consul, and the numerousness of his army, double
theirs, startled the Carthaginians; but Hannibal commanded them to
their arms, and with a small train rode out to take a full prospect of
the enemy as they were now forming in their ranks, from a rising ground
not far distant. One of his followers, called Gisco, a Carthaginian of
equal rank with himself, told him that the numbers of the enemy were
astonishing; to which Hannibal replied, with a serious countenance,
"There is one thing, Gisco, yet more astonishing, which you take no
notice of;" and when Gisco inquired what, answered, that "in all those
great numbers before us, there is not one man called Gisco." This
unexpected jest of their general made all the company laugh, and as
they came down from the hill, they told it to those whom they met,
which caused a general laughter amongst them all, from which they were
hardly able to recover themselves. The army, seeing Hannibal's
attendants come back from viewing the enemy in such a laughing
condition, concluded that it must be profound contempt of the enemy,
that made their general at this moment indulge in such hilarity.
According to his usual manner, Hannibal employed stratagems to
advantage himself. In the first place, he so drew up his men that the
wind was at their backs, which at that time blew with a perfect storm
of violence, and, sweeping over the great plains of sand, carried
before it a cloud of dust over the Carthaginian army into the faces of
the Romans, which much disturbed them in the fight. In the next place,
all his best men he put into his wings; and in the body, which was
somewhat more advanced than the wings, placed the worst and the weakest
of his army. He commanded those in the wings, that, when the enemy had
made a thorough charge upon that middle advanced body, which he knew
would recoil, as not being able to withstand their shock, and when the
Romans, in their pursuit, should be far enough engaged within the two
wings, they should, both on the right and the left, charge them in the
flank, and endeavor to encompass them. This appears to have been the
chief cause of the Roman loss. Pressing upon Hannibal's front, which
gave ground, they reduced the form of his army into a perfect
half-moon, and gave ample opportunity to the captains of the chosen
troops to charge them right and left on their flanks, and to cut off
and destroy all who did not fall back before the Carthaginian wings
united in their rear. To this general calamity, it is also said, that a
strange mistake among the cavalry much contributed. For the horse of
Aemilius receiving a hurt and throwing his master, those about him
immediately alighted to aid the consul; and the Roman troops, seeing
their commanders thus quitting their horses, took it for a sign that
they should all dismount and charge the enemy on foot. At the sight of
this, Hannibal was heard to say, "This pleases me better than if they
had been delivered to me bound hand and foot." For the particulars of
this engagement, we refer our reader to those authors who have written
at large upon the subject.
The consul Varro, with a thin company, fled to Venusia; Aemilius
Paulus, unable any longer to oppose the flight of his men, or the
pursuit of the enemy, his body all covered with wounds, and his soul no
less wounded with grief, sat himself down upon a stone, expecting the
kindness of a dispatching blow. His face was so disfigured, and all his
person so stained with blood, that his very friends and domestics
passing by knew him not. At last Cornelius Lentulus, a young man of
patrician race, perceiving who he was, alighted from his horse, and,
tendering it to him, desired him to get up and save a life so necessary
to the safety of the commonwealth, which, at this time, would dearly
want so great a captain. But nothing could prevail upon him to accept
of the offer; he obliged young Lentulus, with tears in his eyes, to
remount his horse; then standing up, he gave him his hand, and
commanded him to tell Fabius Maximus that Aemilius Paulus had followed
his directions to his very last, and had not in the least deviated from
those measures which were agreed between them; but that it was his hard
fate to be overpowered by Varro in the first place, and secondly by
Hannibal. Having dispatched Lentulus with this commission, he marked
where the slaughter was greatest, and there threw himself upon the
swords of the enemy. In this battle it is reported that fifty thousand
Romans were slain, four thousand prisoners taken in the field, and ten
thousand in the camp of both consuls.
The friends of Hannibal earnestly persuaded him to follow up his
victory, and pursue the flying Romans into the very gates of Rome,
assuring him that in five days' time he might sup in the capitol; nor
is it easy to imagine what consideration hindered him from it. It would
seem rather that some supernatural or divine intervention caused the
hesitation and timidity which he now displayed, and which made Barcas,
a Carthaginian, tell him with indignation, "You know, Hannibal, how to
gain a victory, but not how to use it." Yet it produced a marvelous
revolution in his affairs; he, who hitherto had not one town, market,
or seaport in his possession, who had nothing for the subsistence of
his men but what he pillaged from day to day, who had no place of
retreat or basis of operation, but was roving, as it were, with a huge
troop of banditti, now became master of the best provinces and towns of
Italy, and of Capua itself, next to Rome the most flourishing and
opulent city, all which came over to him, and submitted to his
authority.
It is the saying of Euripides, that "a man is in ill-case when he must
try a friend," and so neither, it would seem, is a state in a good one,
when it needs an able general. And so it was with the Romans; the
counsels and actions of Fabius, which, before the battle, they had
branded as cowardice and fear, now, in the other extreme they accounted
to have been more than human wisdom; as though nothing but a divine
power of intellect could have seen so far, and foretold, contrary to
the judgment of all others, a result which, even now it had arrived,
was hardly credible. In him, therefore, they placed their whole
remaining hopes; his wisdom was the sacred altar and temple to which
they fled for refuge, and his counsels, more than anything, preserved
them from dispersing and deserting their city, as in the time when the
Gauls took possession of Rome. He, whom they esteemed fearful and
pusillanimous when they were, as they thought, in a prosperous
condition, was now the only man, in this general and unbounded
dejection and confusion, who showed no fear, but walked the streets
with an assured and serene countenance, addressed his fellow-citizens,
checked the women's lamentations, and the public gatherings of those
who wanted thus to vent their sorrows. He caused the senate to meet, he
heartened up the magistrates, and was himself as the soul and life of
every office.
He placed guards at the gates of the city to stop the frighted
multitude from flying; he regulated and controlled their mournings for
their slain friends, both as to time and place; ordering that each
family should perform such observances within private walls, and that
they should continue only the space of one month, and then the whole
city should be purified. The feast of Ceres happening to fall within
this time, it was decreed that the solemnity should be intermitted,
lest the fewness, and the sorrowful countenance of those who should
celebrate it, might too much expose to the people the greatness of
their loss; besides that, the worship most acceptable to the gods is
that which comes from cheerful hearts. But those rites which were
proper for appeasing their anger, and procuring auspicious signs and
presages, were by the direction of the augurs carefully performed.
Fabius Pictor, a near kinsman to Maximus, was sent to consult the
oracle of Delphi; and about the same time, two vestals having been
detected to have been violated, the one killed herself, and the other,
according to custom, was buried alive.
Above all, let us admire the high spirit and equanimity of this Roman
commonwealth; that when the consul Varro came beaten and flying home,
full of shame and humiliation, after he had so disgracefully and
calamitously managed their affairs, yet the whole senate and people
went forth to meet him at the gates of the city, and received him with
honor and respect. And, silence being commanded, the magistrates and
chief of the senate, Fabius amongst them, commended him before the
people, because he did not despair of the safety of the commonwealth,
after so great a loss, but was come to take the government into his
hands, to execute the laws, and aid his fellow-citizens in their
prospect of future deliverance.
When word was brought to Rome that Hannibal, after the fight, had
marched with his army into other parts of Italy, the hearts of the
Romans began to revive, and they proceeded to send out generals and
armies. The most distinguished commands were held by Fabius Maximus and
Claudius Marcellus, both generals of great fame, though upon opposite
grounds. For Marcellus, as we have set forth in his life, was a man of
action and high spirit, ready and bold with his own hand, and, as Homer
describes his warriors, fierce, and delighting in fights. Boldness,
enterprise, and daring, to match those of Hannibal, constituted his
tactics, and marked his engagements. But Fabius adhered to his former
principles, still persuaded that, by following close and not fighting
him, Hannibal and his army would at last be tired out and consumed,
like a wrestler in too high condition, whose very excess of strength
makes him the more likely suddenly to give way and lose it. Posidonius
tells us that the Romans called Marcellus their sword, and Fabius their
buckler; and that the vigor of the one, mixed with the steadiness of
the other, made a happy compound that proved the salvation of Rome. So
that Hannibal found by experience that, encountering the one, he met
with a rapid, impetuous river, which drove him back, and still made
some breach upon him; and by the other, though silently and quietly
passing by him, he was insensibly washed away and consumed; and, at
last, was brought to this, that he dreaded Marcellus when he was in
motion, and Fabius when he sat still. During the whole course of this
war, he had still to do with one or both of these generals; for each of
them was five times consul, and, as praetors or proconsuls or consuls,
they had always a part in the government of the army, till, at last,
Marcellus fell into the trap which Hannibal had laid for him, and was
killed in his fifth consulship. But all his craft and subtlety were
unsuccessful upon Fabius, who only once was in some danger of being
caught, when counterfeit letters came to him from the principal
inhabitants of Metapontum, with promises to deliver up their town if he
would come before it with his army, and intimations that they should
expect him, This train had almost drawn him in; he resolved to march to
them with part of his army, and was diverted only by consulting the
omens of the birds, which he found to be inauspicious; and not long
after it was discovered that the letters had been forged by Hannibal,
who, for his reception, had laid an ambush to entertain him. This,
perhaps, we must rather attribute to the favor of the gods than to the
prudence of Fabius.
In preserving the towns and allies from revolt by fair and gentle
treatment, and in not using rigor, or showing a suspicion upon every
light suggestion, his conduct was remarkable. It is told of him, that,
being informed of a certain Marsian, eminent for courage and good
birth, who had been speaking underhand with some of the soldiers about
deserting, Fabius was so far from using severity against him, that he
called for him, and told him he was sensible of the neglect that had
been shown to his merit and good service, which, he said, was a great
fault in the commanders who reward more by favor than by desert; "but
henceforward, whenever you are aggrieved," said Fabius, "I shall
consider it your fault, if you apply yourself to any but to me;" and
when he had so spoken, he bestowed an excellent horse and other
presents upon him; and, from that time forwards, there was not a
faithfuller and more trusty man in the whole army. With good reason he
judged, that, if those who have the government of horses and dogs
endeavor by gentle usage to cure their angry and untractable tempers,
rather than by cruelty and beating, much more should those who have the
command of men try to bring them to order and discipline by the mildest
and fairest means, and not treat them worse than gardeners do those
wild plants, which, with care and attention, lose gradually the
savageness of their nature, and bear excellent fruit.
At another time, some of his officers informed him that one of their
men was very often absent from his place, and out at nights; he asked
them what kind of man he was; they all answered, that the whole army
had not a better man, that he was a native of Lucania, and proceeded to
speak of several actions which they had seen him perform. Fabius made
strict inquiry, and discovered at last that these frequent excursions
which he ventured upon were to visit a young girl, with whom he was in
love. Upon which he gave private order to some of his men to find out
the woman and secretly convey her into his own tent; and then sent for
the Lucanian, and, calling him aside, told him, that he very well knew
how often he had been out away from the camp at night, which was a
capital transgression against military discipline and the Roman laws,
but he knew also how brave he was, and the good services he had done;
therefore, in consideration of them, he was willing to forgive him his
fault; but to keep him in good order, he was resolved to place one over
him to be his keeper, who should be accountable for his good behavior.
Having said this, he produced the woman, and told the soldier,
terrified and amazed at the adventure, "This is the person who must
answer for you; and by your future behavior we shall see whether your
night rambles were on account of love, or for any other worse design."
Another passage there was, something of the same kind, which gained him
possession of Tarentum. There was a young Tarentine in the army that
had a sister in Tarentum, then in possession of the enemy, who entirely
loved her brother, and wholly depended upon him. He, being informed
that a certain Bruttian, whom Hannibal had made a commander of the
garrison, was deeply in love with his sister, conceived hopes that he
might possibly turn it to the advantage of the Romans. And having first
communicated his design to Fabius, he left the army as a deserter in
show, and went over to Tarentum. The first days passed, and the
Bruttian abstained from visiting the sister; for neither of them knew
that the brother had notice of the amour between them. The young
Tarentine, however, took an occasion to tell his sister how he had
heard that a man of station and authority had made his addresses to
her; and desired her, therefore, to tell him who it was; "for," said
he, "if he be a man that has bravery and reputation, it matters not
what countryman he is, since at this time the sword mingles all
nations, and makes them equal; compulsion makes all things honorable;
and in a time when right is weak, we may be thankful if might assumes a
form of gentleness." Upon this the woman sends for her friend, and
makes the brother and him acquainted; and whereas she henceforth showed
more countenance to her lover than formerly, in the same degrees that
her kindness increased, his friendship, also, with the brother
advanced. So that at last our Tarentine thought this Bruttian officer
well enough prepared to receive the offers he had to make him; and that
it would be easy for a mercenary man, who was in love, to accept, upon
the terms proposed, the large rewards promised by Fabius. In
conclusion, the bargain was struck, and the promise made of delivering
the town. This is the common tradition, though some relate the story
otherwise, and say, that this woman, by whom the Bruttian was
inveigled, to betray the town, was not a native of Tarentum, but a
Bruttian born, and was kept by Fabius as his concubine; and being a
countrywoman and an acquaintance of the Bruttian governor, he privately
sent her to him to corrupt him.
Whilst these matters were thus in process, to draw off Hannibal from
scenting the design, Fabius sends orders to the garrison in Rhegium,
that they should waste and spoil the Bruttian country, and should also
lay siege to Caulonia, and storm the place with all their might. These
were a body of eight thousand men, the worst of the Roman army, who had
most of them been runaways, and had been brought home by Marcellus from
Sicily, in dishonor, so that the loss of them would not be any great
grief to the Romans. Fabius, therefore, threw out these men as a bait
for Hannibal, to divert him from Tarentum; who instantly caught at it,
and led his forces to Caulonia; in the meantime, Fabius sat down before
Tarentum. On the sixth day of the siege, the young Tarentine slips by
night out of the town, and, having carefully observed the place where
the Bruttian commander, according to agreement, was to admit the
Romans, gave an account of the whole matter to Fabius; who thought it
not safe to rely wholly upon the plot, but, while proceeding with
secrecy to the post, gave order for a general assault to be made on the
other side of the town, both by land and sea. This being accordingly
executed, while the Tarentines hurried to defend the town on the side
attacked, Fabius received the signal from the Bruttian, scaled the
walls, and entered the town unopposed.
Here, we must confess, ambition seems to have overcome him. To make it
appear to the world that he had taken Tarentum by force and his own
prowess, and not by treachery, he commanded his men to kill the
Bruttians before all others; yet he did not succeed in establishing the
impression he desired, but merely gained the character of perfidy and
cruelty. Many of the Tarentines were also killed, and thirty thousand
of them were sold for slaves; the army had the plunder of the town, and
there was brought into the treasury three thousand talents. Whilst they
were carrying off everything else as plunder, the officer who took the
inventory asked what should be done with their gods, meaning the
pictures and statues; Fabius answered, "Let us leave their angry gods
to the Tarentines." Nevertheless, he removed the colossal statue of
Hercules, and had it set up in the capitol, with one of himself on
horseback, in brass, near it; proceedings very different from those of
Marcellus on a like occasion, and which, indeed, very much set off in
the eyes of the world his clemency and humanity, as appears in the
account of his life.
Hannibal, it is said, was within five miles of Tarentum, when he was
informed that the town was taken. He said openly, "Rome, then, has also
got a Hannibal; as we won Tarentum, so have we lost it." And, in
private with some of his confidants, he told them, for the first time,
that he always thought it difficult, but now he held it impossible,
with the forces he then had, to master Italy.
Upon this success, Fabius had a triumph decreed him at Rome, much more
splendid than his first; they looked upon him now as a champion who had
learned to cope with his antagonist, and could now easily foil his arts
and prove his best skill ineffectual. And, indeed, the army of Hannibal
was at this time partly worn away with continual action, and partly
weakened and become dissolute with overabundance and luxury. Marcus
Livius, who was governor of Tarentum when it was betrayed to Hannibal,
and then retired into the citadel, which he kept till the town was
retaken, was annoyed at these honors and distinctions, and, on one
occasion, openly declared in the senate, that by his resistance, more
than by any action of Fabius, Tarentum had been recovered; on which
Fabius laughingly replied: "You say very true, for if Marcus Livius had
not lost Tarentum, Fabius Maximus had never recovered it." The people,
amongst other marks of gratitude, gave his son the consulship of the
next year; shortly after whose entrance upon his office, there being
some business on foot about provision for the war, his father, either
by reason of age and infirmity, or perhaps out of design to try his
son, came up to him on horseback. While he was still at a distance, the
young consul observed it, and bade one of his lictors command his
father to alight, and tell him that, if be had any business with the
consul, he should come on foot. The standers by seemed offended at the
imperiousness of the son towards a father so venerable for his age and
his authority, and turned their eyes in silence towards Fabius. He,
however, instantly alighted from his horse, and with open arms came up,
almost running, and embraced his son, saying, "Yes, my son, you do
well, and understand well what authority you have received, and over
whom you are to use it. This was the way by which we and our
forefathers advanced the dignity of Rome, preferring ever her honor and
service to our own fathers and children."
And, in fact, it is told that the great-grandfather of our Fabius, who
was undoubtedly the greatest man of Rome in his time, both in
reputation and authority, who had been five times consul, and had been
honored with several triumphs for victories obtained by him, took
pleasure in serving as lieutenant under his own son, when he went as
consul to his command. And when afterwards his son had a triumph
bestowed upon him for his good service, the old man followed, on
horseback, his triumphant chariot, as one of his attendants; and made
it his glory, that while he really was, and was acknowledged to be, the
greatest man in Rome, and held a father's full power over his son, he
yet submitted himself to the laws and the magistrate.
But the praises of our Fabius are not bounded here. He afterwards lost
this son, and was remarkable for bearing the loss with the moderation
becoming a pious father and a wise man, and, as it was the custom
amongst the Romans, upon the death of any illustrious person, to have a
funeral oration recited by some of the nearest relations, he took upon
himself that office, and delivered a speech in the forum, which he
committed afterwards to writing.
After Cornelius Scipio, who was sent into Spain, had driven the
Carthaginians, defeated by him in many battles, out of the country, and
had gained over to Rome many towns and nations with large resources, he
was received at his coming home with unexampled joy and acclamation of
the people; who, to show their gratitude, elected him consul for the
year ensuing. Knowing what high expectation they had of him, he thought
the occupation of contesting Italy with Hannibal a mere old man's
employment, and proposed no less a task to himself than to make
Carthage the seat of the war, fill Africa with arms and devastation,
and so oblige Hannibal, instead of invading the countries of others, to
draw back and defend his own. And to this end he proceeded to exert all
the influence he had with the people. Fabius, on the other side,
opposed the undertaking with all his might, alarming the city, and
telling them that nothing but the temerity of a hot young man could
inspire them with such dangerous counsels, and sparing no means, by
word or deed, to prevent it. He prevailed with the senate to espouse
his sentiments; but the common people thought that he envied the fame
of Scipio, and that he was afraid lest this young conqueror should
achieve some great and noble exploit, and have the glory, perhaps, of
driving Hannibal out of Italy, or even of ending the war, which had for
so many years continued and been protracted under his management.
To say the truth, when Fabius first opposed this project of Scipio, he
probably did it out of caution and prudence, in consideration only of
the public safety, and of the danger which the commonwealth might
incur; but when he found Scipio every day increasing in the esteem of
the people, rivalry and ambition led him further, and made him violent
and personal in his opposition. For he even applied to Crassus, the
colleague of Scipio, and urged him not to yield the command to Scipio,
but that, if his inclinations were for it, he should himself in person
lead the army to Carthage. He also hindered the giving money to Scipio
for the war; so that he was forced to raise it upon his own credit and
interest from the cities of Etruria, which were extremely attached to
him. On the other side, Crassus would not stir against him, nor remove
out of Italy, being, in his own nature, averse to all contention, and
also having, by his office of high priest, religious duties to retain
him. Fabius, therefore, tried other ways to oppose the design; he
impeded the levies, and he declaimed, both in the senate and to the
people, that Scipio was not only himself flying from Hannibal, but was
also endeavoring to drain Italy of all its forces, and to spirit away
the youth of the country to a foreign war, leaving behind them their
parents, wives, and children, and the city itself, a defenseless prey
to the conquering and undefeated enemy at their doors. With this he so
far alarmed the people, that at last they would only allow Scipio for
the war the legions which were in Sicily, and three hundred, whom he
particularly trusted, of those men who had served with him in Spain. In
these transactions, Fabius seems to have followed the dictates of his
own wary temper.
But, after that Scipio was gone over into Africa, when news almost
immediately came to Rome of wonderful exploits and victories, of which
the fame was confirmed by the spoils he sent home; of a Numidian king
taken prisoner; of a vast slaughter of their men; of two camps of the
enemy burnt and destroyed, and in them a great quantity of arms and
horses; and when, hereupon, the Carthaginians were compelled to send
envoys to Hannibal to call him home, and leave his idle hopes in Italy,
to defend Carthage; when, for such eminent and transcending services,
the whole people of Rome cried up and extolled the actions of Scipio;
even then, Fabius contended that a successor should be sent in his
place, alleging for it only the old reason of the mutability of
fortune, as if she would be weary of long favoring the same person.
With this language many did begin to feel offended; it seemed to be
morosity and ill-will, the pusillanimity of old age, or a fear, that
had now become exaggerated, of the skill of Hannibal. Nay, when
Hannibal had put his army on shipboard, and taken his leave of Italy,
Fabius still could not forbear to oppose and disturb the universal joy
of Rome, expressing his fears and apprehensions, telling them that the
commonwealth was never in more danger than now, and that Hannibal was a
more formidable enemy under the walls of Carthage than ever he had been
in Italy; that it would be fatal to Rome, whenever Scipio should
encounter his victorious army, still warm with the blood of so many
Roman generals, dictators, and consuls slain. And the people were, in
some degree, startled with these declamations, and were brought to
believe, that the further off Hannibal was, the nearer was their
danger. Scipio, however, shortly afterwards fought Hannibal, and
utterly defeated him, humbled the pride of Carthage beneath his feet,
gave his countrymen joy and exultation beyond all their hopes, and
"Long shaken on the seas restored the state."
Fabius Maximus, however, did not live to see the prosperous end of this
war, and the final overthrow of Hannibal, nor to rejoice in the
reestablished happiness and security of the commonwealth; for about the
time that Hannibal left Italy, he fell sick and died. At Thebes,
Epaminondas died so poor that he was buried at the public charge; one
small iron coin was all, it is said, that was found in his house.
Fabius did not need this, but the people, as a mark of their affection,
defrayed the expenses of his funeral by a private contribution from
each citizen of the smallest piece of coin; thus owning him their
common father, and making his end no less honorable than his life.
COMPARISON OF PERICLES WITH FABIUS
We have here had two lives rich in examples, both of civil and military
excellence. Let us first compare the two men in their warlike capacity.
Pericles presided in his commonwealth when it was in its most
flourishing and opulent condition, great and growing in power; so that
it may be thought it was rather the common success and fortune that
kept him from any fall or disaster. But the task of Fabius, who
undertook the government in the worst and most difficult times, was not
to preserve and maintain the well-established felicity of a prosperous
state, but to raise and uphold a sinking and ruinous commonwealth.
Besides, the victories of Cimon, the trophies of Myronides and
Leocrates, with the many famous exploits of Tolmides, were employed by
Pericles rather to fill the city with festive entertainments and
solemnities than to enlarge and secure its empire. Whereas Fabius, when
he took upon him the government, had the frightful object before his
eyes of Roman armies destroyed, of their generals and consuls slain, of
lakes and plains and forests strewed with the dead bodies, and rivers
stained with the blood of his fellow-citizens; and yet, with his mature
and solid cousels, with the firmness of his resolution, he, as it were,
put his shoulder to the falling commonwealth, and kept it up from
foundering through the failings and weakness of others. Perhaps it may
be more easy to govern a city broken and tamed with calamities and
adversity, and compelled by danger and necessity to listen to wisdom,
than to set a bridle on wantonness and temerity, and rule a people
pampered and restive with long prosperity as were the Athenians when
Pericles held the reins of government. But then again, not to be
daunted nor discomposed with the vast heap of calamities under which
the people of Rome at that time groaned and succumbed, argues a courage
in Fabius and a strength of purpose more than ordinary.
We may set Tarentum retaken against Samos won by Pericles, and the
conquest of Euboea we may well balance with the towns of Campania;
though Capua itself was reduced by the consuls Fulvius and Appius. I do
not find that Fabius won any set battle but that against the Ligurians,
for which he had his triumph; whereas Pericles erected nine trophies
for as many victories obtained by land and by sea. But no action of
Pericles can be compared to that memorable rescue of Minucius, when
Fabius redeemed both him and his army from utter destruction; a noble
act, combining the highest valor, wisdom, and humanity. On the other
side, it does not appear that Pericles was ever so overreached as
Fabius was by Hannibal with his flaming oxen. His enemy there had,
without his agency, put himself accidentally into his power, yet Fabius
let him slip in the night, and, when day came, was worsted by him, was
anticipated in the moment of success, and mastered by his prisoner. If
it is the part of a good general, not only to provide for the present,
but also to have a clear foresight of things to come, in this point
Pericles is the superior; for he admonished the Athenians, and told
them beforehand the ruin the war would bring upon them, by their
grasping more than they were able to manage. But Fabius was not so good
a prophet, when he denounced to the Romans that the undertaking of
Scipio would be the destruction of the commonwealth. So that Pericles
was a good prophet of bad success, and Fabius was a bad prophet of
success that was good. And, indeed, to lose an advantage through
diffidence is no less blamable in a general than to fall into danger
for want of foresight; for both these faults, though of a contrary
nature, spring from the same root, want of judgment and experience.
As for their civil policy, it is imputed to Pericles that he occasioned
the war, since no terms of peace, offered by the Lacedaemonians, would
content him. It is true, I presume, that Fabius, also, was not for
yielding any point to the Carthaginians, but was ready to hazard all,
rather than lessen the empire of Rome. The mildness of Fabius towards
his colleague Minucius does, by way of comparison, rebuke and condemn
the exertions of Pericles to banish Cimon and Thucydides, noble,
aristocratic men, who by his means suffered ostracism. The authority of
Pericles in Athens was much greater than that of Fabius in Rome. Hence
it was more easy for him to prevent miscarriages arising from the
mistakes and insufficiency of other officers; only Tolmides broke loose
from him, and, contrary to his persuasions, unadvisedly fought with the
Boeotians, and was slain. The greatness of his influence made all
others submit and conform themselves to his judgment. Whereas Fabius,
sure and unerring himself, for want of that general power, had not the
means to obviate the miscarriages of others; but it had been happy for
the Romans if his authority had been greater, for so, we may presume,
their disasters had been fewer.
As to liberality and public spirit, Pericles was eminent in never
taking any gifts, and Fabius, for giving his own money to ransom his
soldiers, though the sum did not exceed six talents. Than Pericles,
meantime, no man had ever greater opportunities to enrich himself,
having had presents offered him from so many kings and princes and
allies, yet no man was ever more free from corruption. And for the
beauty and magnificence of temples and public edifices with which he
adorned his country, it must be confessed, that all the ornaments and
structures of Rome, to the time of the Caesars, had nothing to compare,
either in greatness of design or of expense, with the luster of those
which Pericles only erected at Athens.
ALCIBIADES
Alcibiades, as it is supposed, was anciently descended from Eurysaces,
the son of Ajax, by his father's side; and by his mother's side from
Alcmaeon. Dinomache, his mother, was the daughter of Megacles. His
father Clinias, having fitted out a galley at his own expense, gained
great honor in the sea-fight at Artemisium, and was afterwards slain in
the battle of Coronea, fighting against the Boeotians. Pericles and
Ariphron, the sons of Xanthippus, nearly related to him, became the
guardians of Alcibiades. It has been said not untruly that the
friendship which Socrates felt for him has much contributed to his
fame; and certain it is, that, though we have no account from any
writer concerning the mother of Nicias or Demosthenes, of Lamachus or
Phormion, of Thrasybulus or Theramenes, notwithstanding these were all
illustrious men of the same period, yet we know even the nurse of
Alcibiades, that her country was Lacedaemon, and her name Amycla; and
that Zopyrus was his teacher and attendant; the one being recorded by
Antisthenes, and the other by Plato.
It is not, perhaps, material to say anything of the beauty of
Alcibiades, only that it bloomed with him in all the ages of his life,
in his infancy, in his youth, and in his manhood; and, in the peculiar
character becoming to each of these periods, gave him, in every one of
them, a grace and a charm. What Euripides says, that
"Of all fair things the autumn, too, is fair,"
is by no means universally true. But it happened so with Alcibiades,
amongst few others, by reason of his happy constitution and natural
vigor of body. It is said that his lisping, when he spoke, became him
well, and gave a grace and persuasiveness to his rapid speech.
Aristophanes takes notice of it in the verses in which he jests at
Theorus; "How like a colax he is," says Alcibiades, meaning a corax; on
which it is remarked,
"How very happily he lisped the truth."
Archippus also alludes to it in a passage where he ridicules the son of
Alcibiades;
"That people may believe him like his father,
He walks like one dissolved in luxury,
Lets his robe trail behind him on the ground,
Carelessly leans his head, and in his talk affects to lisp."
His conduct displayed many great inconsistencies and variations, not
unnaturally, in accordance with the many and wonderful vicissitudes of
his fortunes; but among the many strong passions of his real character,
the one most prevailing of all was his ambition and desire of
superiority, which appears in several anecdotes told of his sayings
whilst he was a child. Once being hard pressed in wrestling, and
fearing to be thrown, he got the hand of his antagonist to his mouth,
and bit it with all his force; and when the other loosed his hold
presently, and said, "You bite, Alcibiades, like a woman." "No,"
replied he, "like a lion." Another time as he played at dice in the
street, being then but a child, a loaded cart came that way, when it
was his turn to throw; at first he called to the driver to stop,
because he was to throw in the way over which the cart was to pass; but
the man giving him no attention and driving on, when the rest of the
boys divided and gave way, Alcibiades threw himself on his face before
the cart, and, stretching himself out, bade the carter pass on now if
he would; which so startled the man, that he put back his horses, while
all that saw it were terrified, and, crying out, ran to assist
Alcibiades. When he began to study, he obeyed all his other masters
fairly well, but refused to learn upon the flute, as a sordid thing,
and not becoming a free citizen; saying, that to play on the lute or
the harp does not in any way disfigure a man's body or face, but one is
hardly to be known by the most intimate friends, when playing on the
flute. Besides, one who plays on the harp may speak or sing at the same
time; but the use of the flute stops the mouth, intercepts the voice,
and prevents all articulation. "Therefore," said he, "let the Theban
youths pipe, who do not know how to speak, but we Athenians, as our
ancestors have told us, have Minerva for our patroness, and Apollo for
our protector, one of whom threw away the flute, and the other stripped
the Flute-player of his skin." Thus, between raillery and good earnest,
Alcibiades kept not only himself but others from learning, as it
presently became the talk of the young boys, how Alcibiades despised
playing on the flute, and ridiculed those who studied it. In
consequence of which, it ceased to be reckoned amongst the liberal
accomplishments, and became generally neglected.
It is stated in the invective which Antiphon wrote against Alcibiades,
that once, when he was a boy, he ran away to the house of Democrates,
one of those who made a favorite of him, and that Ariphron had
determined to cause proclamation to be made for him, had not Pericles
diverted him from it, by saying, that if he were dead, the proclaiming
of him could only cause it to be discovered one day sooner, and if he
were safe, it would be a reproach to him as long as he lived. Antiphon
also says, that he killed one of his own servants with the blow of a
staff in Sibyrtius's wrestling ground. But it is unreasonable to give
credit to all that is objected by an enemy, who makes open profession
of his design to defame him.
It was manifest that the many well-born persons who were continually
seeking his company, and making their court to him, were attracted and
captivated by his brilliant and extraordinary beauty only. But the
affection which Socrates entertained for him is a great evidence of the
natural noble qualities and good disposition of the boy, which
Socrates, indeed, detected both in and under his personal beauty; and,
fearing that his wealth and station, and the great number both of
strangers and Athenians who flattered and caressed him, might at last
corrupt him, resolved, if possible, to interpose, and preserve so
hopeful a plant from perishing in the flower, before its fruit came to
perfection. For never did fortune surround and enclose a man with so
many of those things which we vulgarly call goods, or so protect him
from every weapon of philosophy, and fence him from every access of
free and searching words, as she did Alcibiades; who, from the
beginning, was exposed to the flatteries of those who sought merely his
gratification, such as might well unnerve him, and indispose him to
listen to any real adviser or instructor. Yet such was the happiness of
his genius, that he discerned Socrates from the rest, and admitted him,
whilst he drove away the wealthy and the noble who made court to him.
And, in a little time, they grew intimate, and Alcibiades, listening
now to language entirely free from every thought of unmanly fondness
and silly displays of affection, finding himself with one who sought to
lay open to him the deficiencies of his mind, and repress his vain and
foolish arrogance,
"Dropped like the craven cock his conquered wing."
He esteemed these endeavors of Socrates as most truly a means which the
gods made use of for the care and preservation of youth, and began to
think meanly of himself, and to admire him; to be pleased with his
kindness, and to stand in awe of his virtue; and, unawares to himself,
there became formed in his mind that reflex image and reciprocation of
Love, or Anteros,@ that Plato talks of. It was a matter of general
wonder, when people saw him joining Socrates in his meals and his
exercises, living with him in the same tent, whilst he was reserved and
rough to all others who made their addresses to him, and acted, indeed,
with great insolence to some of them. As in particular to Anytus, the
son of Anthemion, one who was very fond of him, and invited him to an
entertainment which he had prepared for some strangers. Alcibiades
refused the invitation; but, having drunk to excess at his own house
with some of his companions, went thither with them to play some
frolic; and, standing at the door of the room where the guests were
enjoying themselves, and seeing the tables covered with gold and silver
cups, he commanded his servants to take away the one half of them, and
carry them to his own house; and then, disdaining so much as to enter
into the room himself, as soon as he had done this, went away. The
company was indignant, and exclaimed at his rude and insulting conduct;
Anytus, however, said, on the contrary he had shown great consideration
and tenderness in taking only a part, when he might have taken all.
He behaved in the same manner to all others who courted him, except
only one stranger, who, as the story is told, having but a small
estate, sold it all for about a hundred staters, which he presented to
Alcibiades, and besought him to accept. Alcibiades, smiling and well
pleased at the thing, invited him to supper, and, after a very kind
entertainment, gave him his gold again, requiring him, moreover, not to
fail to be present the next day, when the public revenue was offered to
farm, and to outbid all others. The man would have excused himself,
because the contract was so large, and would cost many talents; but
Alcibiades, who had at that time a private pique against the existing
farmers of the revenue, threatened to have him beaten if he refused.
The next morning, the stranger, coming to the marketplace, offered a
talent more than the existing rate; upon which the farmers, enraged and
consulting together, called upon him to name his sureties, concluding
that he could find none. The poor man, being startled at the proposal,
began to retire; but Alcibiades, standing at a distance, cried out to
the magistrates, "Set my name down, he is a friend of mine; I will be
security for him." When the other bidders heard this, they perceived
that all their contrivance was defeated; for their way was, with the
profits of the second year to pay the rent for the year preceding; so
that, not seeing any other way to extricate themselves out of the
difficulty, they began to entreat the stranger, and offered him a sum
of money. Alcibiades would not suffer him to accept of less than a
talent; but when that was paid down, he commanded him to relinquish the
bargain, having by this device relieved his necessity.
Though Socrates had many and powerful rivals, yet the natural good
qualities of Alcibiades gave his affection the mastery. His words
overcame him so much, as to draw tears from his eyes, and to disturb
his very soul. Yet sometimes he would abandon himself to flatterers,
when they proposed to him varieties of pleasure, and would desert
Socrates; who, then, would pursue him, as if he had been a fugitive
slave. He despised everyone else, and had no reverence or awe for any
but him. Cleanthes the philosopher; speaking of one to whom he was
attached, says his only hold on him was by his ears, while his rivals
had all the others offered them; and there is no question that
Alcibiades was very easily caught by pleasures; and the expression used
by Thucydides about the excesses of his habitual course of living gives
occasion to believe so. But those who endeavored to corrupt Alcibiades,
took advantage chiefly of his vanity and ambition, and thrust him on
unseasonably to undertake great enterprises, persuading him, that as
soon as he began to concern himself in public affairs, he would not
only obscure the rest of the generals and statesmen, but outdo the
authority and the reputation which Pericles himself had gained in
Greece. But in the same manner as iron which is softened by the fire
grows hard with the cold, and all its parts are closed again; so, as
often as Socrates observed Alcibiades to be misled by luxury or pride,
he reduced and corrected him by his addresses, and made him humble and
modest, by showing him in how many things he was deficient, and how
very far from perfection in virtue.
When he was past his childhood, he went once to a grammar-school, and
asked the master for one of Homer's books; and he making answer that he
had nothing of Homer's, Alcibiades gave him a blow with his fist, and
went away. Another schoolmaster telling him that he had Homer corrected
by himself; "How," said Alcibiades, "and do you employ your time in
teaching children to read? You, who are able to amend Homer, may well
undertake to instruct men." Being once desirous to speak with Pericles,
he went to his house and was told there that he was not at leisure, but
busied in considering how to give up his accounts to the Athenians;
Alcibiades, as he went away, said, "It were better for him to consider
how he might avoid giving up his accounts at all."
Whilst he was very young, he was a soldier in the expedition against
Potidaea, where Socrates lodged in the same tent with him, and stood
next him in battle. Once there happened a sharp skirmish, in which they
both behaved with signal bravery; but Alcibiades receiving a wound,
Socrates threw himself before him to defend him, and beyond any
question saved him and his arms from the enemy, and so in all justice
might have challenged the prize of valor. But the generals appearing
eager to adjudge the honor to Alcibiades, because of his rank,
Socrates, who desired to increase his thirst after glory of a noble
kind, was the first to give evidence for him, and pressed them to crown
him, and to decree to him the complete suit of armor. Afterwards, in
the battle of Delium, when the Athenians were routed and Socrates with
a few others was retreating on foot, Alcibiades, who was on horseback,
observing it, would not pass on, but stayed to shelter him from the
danger, and brought him safe off, though the enemy pressed hard upon
them, and cut off many. But this happened some time after.
He gave a box on the ear to Hipponicus, the father of Callias, whose
birth and wealth made him a person of great influence and repute. And
this he did unprovoked by any passion or quarrel between them, but only
because, in a frolic, he had agreed with his companions to do it.
People were justly offended at this insolence, when it became known
through the city; but early the next morning, Alcibiades went to his
house and knocked at the door, and, being admitted to him, took off his
outer garment, and, presenting his naked body, desired him to scourge
and chastise him as he pleased. Upon this Hipponicus forgot all his
resentment, and not only pardoned him, but soon after gave him his
daughter Hipparete in marriage. Some say that it was not Hipponicus,
but his son Callias, who gave Hipparete to Alcibiades, together with a
portion of ten talents, and that after, when she had a child,
Alcibiades forced him to give ten talents more, upon pretense that such
was the agreement if she brought him any children. Afterwards, Callias,
for fear of coming to his death by his means, declared, in a full
assembly of the people, that if he should happen to die without
children, the state should inherit his house and all his goods.
Hipparete was a virtuous and dutiful wife, but, at last, growing
impatient of the outrages done to her by her husband's continual
entertaining of courtesans, as well strangers as Athenians, she
departed from him and retired to her brother's house. Alcibiades seemed
not at all concerned at this, and lived on still in the same luxury;
but the law requiring that she should deliver to the archon in person,
and not by proxy, the instrument by which she claimed a divorce, when,
in obedience to the law, she presented herself before him to perform
this, Alcibiades came in, caught her up, and carried her home through
the marketplace, no one daring to oppose him, nor to take her from him.
She continued with him till her death, which happened not long after,
when Alcibiades had gone to Ephesus. Nor is this violence to be thought
so very enormous or unmanly. For the law, in making her who desires to
be divorced appear in public, seems to design to give her husband an
opportunity of treating with her, and of endeavoring to retain her.
Alcibiades had a dog which cost him seventy minas, and was a very large
one, and very handsome. His tail, which was his principal ornament, he
caused to be cut off, and his acquaintance exclaiming at him for it,
and telling him that all Athens was sorry for the dog, and cried out
upon him for this action, he laughed, and said, "Just what I wanted has
happened, then. I wished the Athenians to talk about this, that they
might not say something worse of me."
It is said that the first time he came into the assembly was upon
occasion of a largess of money which he made to the people. This was
not done by design, but as he passed along he heard a shout, and
inquiring the cause, and having learned that there was a donative
making to the people, he went in amongst them and gave money also. The
multitude thereupon applauding him, and shouting, he was so transported
at it, that he forgot a quail which he had under his robe, and the
bird, being frighted with the noise, flew off; upon which the people
made louder acclamations than before, and many of them started up to
pursue the bird; and one Antiochus, a pilot, caught it and restored it
to him, for which he was ever after a favorite with Alcibiades.
He had great advantages for entering public life; his noble birth, his
riches, the personal courage he had shown in divers battles, and the
multitude of his friends and dependents, threw open, so to say, folding
doors for his admittance. But he did not consent to let his power with
the people rest on any thing, rather than on his own gift of eloquence.
That he was a master in the art of speaking, the comic poets bear him
witness; and the most eloquent of public speakers, in his oration
against Midias, allows that Alcibiades, among other perfections, was a
most accomplished orator. If, however, we give credit to Theophrastus,
who of all philosophers was the most curious inquirer, and the greatest
lover of history, we are to understand that Alcibiades had the highest
capacity for inventing, for discerning what was the right thing to be
said for any purpose, and on any occasion; but, aiming not only at
saying what was required, but also at saying it well, in respect, that
is, of words and phrases, when these did not readily occur, he would
often pause in the middle of his discourse for want of the apt word,
and would be silent and stop till he could recollect himself, and had
considered what to say.
His expenses in horses kept for the public games, and in the number of
his chariots, were matter of great observation; never did anyone but
he, either private person or king, send seven chariots to the Olympic
games. And to have carried away at once the first, the second, and the
fourth prize, as Thucydides says, or the third, as Euripides relates
it, outdoes far away every distinction that ever was known or thought
of in that kind. Euripides celebrates his success in this manner:--
"--But my song to you, Son of Clinias, is due.
Victory is noble; how much more
To do as never Greek before;
To obtain in the great chariot race
The first, the second, and third place;
With easy step advanced to fame,
To bid the herald three times claim
The olive for one victor's name."
The emulation displayed by the deputations of various states, in the
presents which they made to him, rendered this success yet more
illustrious. The Ephesians erected a tent for him, adorned
magnificently; the city of Chios furnished him with provender for his
horses and with great numbers of beasts for sacrifice; and the Lesbians
sent him wine and other provisions for the many great entertainments
which he made. Yet in the midst of all this he escaped not without
censure, occasioned either by the ill-nature of his enemies or by his
own misconduct. For it is said, that one Diomedes, all Athenian, a
worthy man and a friend to Alcibiades, passionately desiring to obtain
the victory at the Olympic games, and having heard much of a chariot
which belonged to the state at Argos, where he knew that Alcibiades had
great power and many friends, prevailed with him to undertake to buy
the chariot. Alcibiades did indeed buy it, but then claimed it for his
own, leaving Diomedes to rage at him, and to call upon the gods and men
to bear witness to the injustice. It would seem there was a suit at law
commenced upon this occasion, and there is yet extant an oration
concerning the chariot, written by Isocrates in defense of the son of
Alcibiades. But the plaintiff in this action is named Tisias, and not
Diomedes.
As soon as he began to intermeddle in the government, which was when he
was very young, he quickly lessened the credit of all who aspired to
the confidence of the people, except Phaeax, the son of Erasistratus,
and Nicias, the son of Niceratus, who alone could contest it with him.
Nicias was arrived at a mature age, and was esteemed their first
general. Phaeax was but a rising statesman like Alcibiades; he was
descended from noble ancestors, but was his inferior, as in many other
things, so, principally, in eloquence. He possessed rather the art of
persuading in private conversation than of debate before the people,
and was, as Eupolis said of him,
"The best of talkers, and of speakers worst."
There is extant an oration written by Phaeax against Alcibiades, in
which, amongst other things, it is said, that Alcibiades made daily use
at his table of many gold and silver vessels, which belonged to the
commonwealth, as if they had been his own.
There was a certain Hyperbolus, of the township of Perithoedae, whom
Thucydides also speaks of as a man of bad character, a general butt for
the mockery of all the comic writers of the time, but quite unconcerned
at the worst things they could say, and, being careless of glory, also
insensible of shame; a temper which some people call boldness and
courage, whereas it is indeed impudence and recklessness. He was liked
by nobody, yet the people made frequent use of him, when they had a
mind to disgrace or calumniate any persons in authority. At this time,
the people, by his persuasions, were ready to proceed to pronounce the
sentence of ten years' banishment, called ostracism. This they made use
of to humiliate and drive out of the city such citizens as outdid the
rest in credit and power, indulging not so much perhaps their
apprehensions as their jealousies in this way. And when, at this time,
there was no doubt but that the ostracism would fall upon one of those
three, Alcibiades contrived to form a coalition of parties, and,
communicating his project to Nicias, turned the sentence upon
Hyperbolus himself. Others say, that it was not with Nicias, but
Phaeax, that he consulted, and, by help of his party, procured the
banishment of Hyperbolus, when he suspected nothing less. For, before
that time, no mean or obscure person had ever fallen under that
punishment, so that Plato, the comic poet, speaking of Hyperbolus,
might well say,
"The man deserved the fate; deny 't who can?
Yes, but the fate did not deserve the man;
Not for the like of him and his slave-brands
Did Athens put the sherd into our hands."
But we have given elsewhere a fuller statement of what is known to us
of the matter.
Alcibiades was not less disturbed at the distinctions which Nicias
gained amongst the enemies of Athens, than at the honors which the
Athenians themselves paid to him. For though Alcibiades was the proper
appointed person to receive all Lacedaemonians when they came to
Athens, and had taken particular care of those that were made prisoners
at Pylos, yet, after they had obtained the peace and restitution of the
captives, by the procurement chiefly of Nicias, they paid him very
special attentions. And it was commonly said in Greece, that the war
was begun by Pericles, and that Nicias made an end of it, and the peace
was generally called the peace of Nicias. Alcibiades was extremely
annoyed at this, and, being full of envy, set himself to break the
league. First, therefore, observing that the Argives, as well out of
fear as hatred to the Lacedaemonians, sought for protection against
them, he gave them a secret assurance of alliance with Athens. And
communicating, as well in person as by letters, with the chief advisers
of the people there, he encouraged them not to fear the Lacedaemonians,
nor make concessions to them, but to wait a little, and keep their eyes
on the Athenians, who, already, were all but sorry they had made peace,
and would soon give it up. And, afterwards, when the Lacedaemonians had
made a league with the Boeotians, and had not delivered up Panactum
entire, as they ought to have done by the treaty, but only after first
destroying it, which gave great offense to the people of Athens,
Alcibiades laid hold of that opportunity to exasperate them more
highly. He exclaimed fiercely against Nicias, and accused him of many
things, which seemed probable enough: as that, when he was general, he
made no attempt himself to capture their enemies that were shut up in
the isle of Sphacteria, but, when they were afterwards made prisoners
by others, he procured their release and sent them back to the
Lacedaemonians, only to get favor with them; that he would not make use
of his credit with them, to prevent their entering into this
confederacy with the Boeotians and Corinthians, and yet, on the other
side, that he sought to stand in the way of those Greeks who were
inclined to make an alliance and friendship with Athens, if the
Lacedaemonians did not like it.
It happened, at the very time when Nicias was by these arts brought
into disgrace with the people, that ambassadors arrived from
Lacedaemon, who, at their first coming, said what seemed very
satisfactory, declaring that they had full powers to arrange all
matters in dispute upon fair and equal terms. The council received
their propositions, and the people was to assemble on the morrow to
give them audience. Alcibiades grew very apprehensive of this, and
contrived to gain a secret conference with the ambassadors. When they
were met, he said: "What is it you intend, you men of Sparta? Can you
be ignorant that the council always act with moderation and respect
towards ambassadors, but that the people are full of ambition and great
designs? So that, if you let them know what full powers your commission
gives you, they will urge and press you to unreasonable conditions.
Quit therefore, this indiscreet simplicity, if you expect to obtain
equal terms from the Athenians, and would not have things extorted from
you contrary to your inclinations, and begin to treat with the people
upon some reasonable articles, not avowing yourselves
plenipotentiaries; and I will be ready to assist you, out of good-will
to the Lacedaemonians." When he had said thus, he gave them his oath
for the performance of what he promised, and by this way drew them from
Nicias to rely entirely upon himself, and left them full of admiration
of the discernment and sagacity they had seen in him. The next day,
when the people were assembled and the ambassadors introduced,
Alcibiades, with great apparent courtesy, demanded of them, With what
powers they were come? They made answer that they were not come as
plenipotentiaries.
Instantly upon that, Alcibiades, with a loud voice, as though he had
received and not done the wrong, began to call them dishonest
prevaricators, and to urge that such men could not possibly come with a
purpose to say or do anything that was sincere. The council was
incensed, the people were in a rage, and Nicias, who knew nothing of
the deceit and the imposture, was in the greatest confusion, equally
surprised and ashamed at such a change in the men. So thus the
Lacedaemonian ambassadors were utterly rejected, and Alcibiades was
declared general, who presently united the Argives, the Eleans, and the
people of Mantinea, into a confederacy with the Athenians.
No man commended the method by which Alcibiades effected all this, yet
it was a great political feat thus to divide and shake almost all
Peloponnesus, and to combine so many men in arms against the
Lacedaemonians in one day before Mantinea; and, moreover, to remove the
war and the danger so far from the frontier of the Athenians, that even
success would profit the enemy but little, should they be conquerors,
whereas, if they were defeated, Sparta itself was hardly safe.
After this battle at Mantinea, the select thousand of the army of the
Argives attempted to overthrow the government of the people in Argos,
and make themselves masters of the city; and the Lacedaemonians came to
their aid and abolished the democracy. But the people took arms again,
and gained the advantage, and Alcibiades came in to their aid and
completed the victory, and persuaded them to build long walls, and by
that means to join their city to the sea, and so to bring it wholly
within the reach of the Athenian power. To this purpose, he procured
them builders and masons from Athens, and displayed the greatest zeal
for their service, and gained no less honor and power to himself than
to the commonwealth of Athens. He also persuaded the people of Patrae
to join their city to the sea, by building long walls; and when some
one told them, by way of warning, that the Athenians would swallow them
up at last Alcibiades made answer, "Possibly it may be so, but it will
be by little and little, and beginning at the feet, whereas the
Lacedaemonians will begin at the head and devour you all at once." Nor
did he neglect either to advise the Athenians to look to their
interests by land, and often put the young men in mind of the oath
which they had made at Agraulos, to the effect that they would account
wheat and barley, and vines and olives, to be the limits of Attica; by
which they were taught to claim a title to all land that was cultivated
and productive.
But with all these words and deeds, and with all this sagacity and
eloquence, he intermingled exorbitant luxury and wantonness in his
eating and drinking and dissolute living; wore long purple robes like a
woman, which dragged after him as he went through the market-place;
caused the planks of his galley to be cut away, that so he might lie
the softer, his bed not being placed on the boards, but hanging upon
girths. His shield, again, which was richly gilded, had not the usual
ensigns of the Athenians, but a Cupid, holding a thunderbolt in his
hand, was painted upon it. The sight of all this made the people of
good repute in the city feel disgust and abhorrence, and apprehension
also, at his free-living, and his contempt of law, as things monstrous
in themselves, and indicating designs of usurpation. Aristophanes has
well expressed the people's feeling towards him:--
"They love, and hate, and cannot do without him."
And still more strongly, under a figurative expression,
"Best rear no lion in your state, 'tis true;
But treat him like a lion if you do."
The truth is, his liberalities, his public shows, and other munificence
to the people, which were such as nothing could exceed, the glory of
his ancestors, the force of his eloquence, the grace of his person, his
strength of body, joined with his great courage and knowledge in
military affairs, prevailed upon the Athenians to endure patiently his
excesses, to indulge many things to him, and, according to their habit,
to give the softest names to his faults, attributing them to youth and
good nature. As, for example, he kept Agatharcus, the painter, a
prisoner till he had painted his whole house, but then dismissed him
with a reward. He publicly struck Taureas, who exhibited certain shows
in opposition to him and contended with him for the prize. He selected
for himself one of the captive Melian women, and had a son by her, whom
he took care to educate. This the Athenians styled great humanity; and
yet he was the principal cause of the slaughter of all the inhabitants
of the isle of Melos who were of age to bear arms, having spoken in
favor of that decree. When Aristophon, the painter, had drawn Nemea
sitting and holding Alcibiades in her arms, the multitude seemed
pleased with the piece, and thronged to see it, but older people
disliked and disrelished it, and looked on these things as enormities,
and movements towards tyranny. So that it was not said amiss by
Archestratus, that Greece could not support a second Alcibiades. Once,
when Alcibiades succeeded well in an oration which he made, and the
whole assembly attended upon him to do him honor, Timon the misanthrope
did not pass slightly by him, nor avoid him, as he did others, but
purposely met him, and, taking him by the hand, said, "Go on boldly, my
son, and increase in credit with the people, for thou wilt one day
bring them calamities enough." Some that were present laughed at the
saying, and some reviled Timon; but there were others upon whom it made
a deep impression; so various was the judgment which was made of him,
and so irregular his own character.
The Athenians, even in the lifetime of Pericles, had already cast a
longing eye upon Sicily; but did not attempt any thing till after his
death. Then, under pretense of aiding their confederates, they sent
succors upon all occasions to those who were oppressed by the
Syracusans, preparing the way for sending over a greater force. But
Alcibiades was the person who inflamed this desire of theirs to the
height, and prevailed with them no longer to proceed secretly, and by
little and little, in their design, but to sail out with a great fleet,
and undertake at once to make themselves masters of the island. He
possessed the people with great hopes, and he himself entertained yet
greater; and the conquest of Sicily, which was the utmost bound of
their ambition, was but the mere outset of his expectation. Nicias
endeavored to divert the people from the expedition, by representing to
them that the taking of Syracuse would be a work of great difficulty;
but Alcibiades dreamed of nothing less than the conquest of Carthage
and Libya, and by the accession of these conceiving himself at once
made master of Italy and of Peloponnesus, seemed to look upon Sicily as
little more than a magazine for the war. The young men were soon
elevated with these hopes, and listened gladly to those of riper years,
who talked wonders of the countries they were going to; so that you
might see great numbers sitting in the wrestling grounds and public
places, drawing on the ground the figure of the island and the
situation of Libya and Carthage. Socrates the philosopher and Meton the
astrologer are said, however, never to have hoped for any good to the
commonwealth from this war; the one, it is to be supposed, presaging
what would ensue, by the intervention of his attendant Genius; and the
other, either upon rational consideration of the project, or by use of
the art of divination, conceived fears for its issue, and, feigning
madness, caught up a burning torch, and seemed as if he would have set
his own house on fire. Others report, that he did not take upon him to
act the madman, but secretly in the night set his house on fire, and
the next morning besought the people, that for his comfort, after such
a calamity, they would spare his son from the expedition. By which
artifice, he deceived his fellow-citizens, and obtained of them what he
desired.
Together with Alcibiades, Nicias, much against his will, was appointed
general: and he endeavored to avoid the command, not the less on
account of his colleague. But the Athenians thought the war would
proceed more prosperously, if they did not send Alcibiades free from
all restraint, but tempered his heat with the caution of Nicias. This
they chose the rather to do, because Lamachus, the third general,
though he was of mature years, yet in several battles had appeared no
less hot and rash than Alcibiades himself. When they began to
deliberate of the number of forces, and of the manner of making the
necessary provisions, Nicias made another attempt to oppose the design,
and to prevent the war; but Alcibiades contradicted him, and carried
his point with the people. And one Demostratus, an orator, proposing to
give the generals absolute power over the preparations and the whole
management of the war, it was presently decreed so. When all things
were fitted for the voyage, many unlucky omens appeared. At that very
time the feast of Adonis happened, in which the women were used to
expose, in all parts of the city, images resembling dead men carried
out to their burial, and to represent funeral solemnities by
lamentations and mournful songs. The mutilation, however, of the images
of Mercury, most of which, in one night, had their faces all
disfigured, terrified many persons who were wont to despise most things
of that nature. It was given out that it was done by the Corinthians,
for the sake of the Syracusans, who were their colony, in hopes that
the Athenians, by such prodigies, might be induced to delay or abandon
the war. But the report gained no credit with the people, nor yet the
opinion of those who would not believe that there was anything ominous
in the matter, but that it was only an extravagant action, committed,
in that sort of sport which runs into license, by wild young men coming
from a debauch. Alike enraged and terrified at the thing, looking upon
it to proceed from a conspiracy of persons who designed some commotions
in the state, the council, as well as the assembly of the people, which
was held frequently in a few days' space, examined diligently
everything that might administer ground for suspicion. During this
examination, Androcles, one of the demagogues, produced certain slaves
and strangers before them, who accused Alcibiades and some of his
friends of defacing other images in the same manner, and of having
profanely acted the sacred mysteries at a drunken meeting, where one
Theodorus represented the herald, Polytion the torch- bearer, and
Alcibiades the chief priest, while the rest of the party appeared as
candidates for initiation, and received the title of Initiates. These
were the matters contained in the articles of information, which
Thessalus, the son of Cimon, exhibited against Alcibiades, for his
impious mockery of the goddesses, Ceres and Proserpine. The people were
highly exasperated and incensed against Alcibiades upon this
accusation, which, being aggravated by Androcles, the most malicious of
all his enemies, at first disturbed his friends exceedingly. But when
they perceived that all the sea-men designed for Sicily were for him,
and the soldiers also, and when the Argive and Mantinean auxiliaries, a
thousand men at arms, openly declared that they had undertaken this
distant maritime expedition for the sake of Alcibiades, and that, if he
was ill-used, they would all go home, they recovered their courage, and
became eager to make use of the present opportunity for justifying him.
At this his enemies were again discouraged, fearing lest the people
should be more gentle to him in their sentence, because of the occasion
they had for his service. Therefore, to obviate this, they contrived
that some other orators, who did not appear to be enemies to
Alcibiades, but really hated him no less than those who avowed it,
should stand up in the assembly and say, that it was a very absurd
thing that one who was created general of such an army with absolute
power, after his troops were assembled, and the confederates were come,
should lose the opportunity, whilst the people were choosing his judges
by lot, and appointing times for the hearing of the cause. And,
therefore, let him set sail at once; good fortune attend him; and when
the war should be at an end, he might then in person make his defense
according to the laws.
Alcibiades perceived the malice of this postponement, and, appearing in
the assembly represented that it was monstrous for him to be sent with
the command of so large an army, when he lay under such accusations and
calumnies; that he deserved to die, if he could not clear himself of
the crimes objected to him; but when he had so done, and had proved his
innocence, he should then cheerfully apply himself to the war, as
standing no longer in fear of false accusers. But he could not prevail
with the people, who commanded him to sail immediately. So he departed,
together with the other generals, having with them near 140 galleys,
5,100 men at arms, and about 1,300 archers, slingers, and light-armed
men, and all the other provisions corresponding.
Arriving on the coast of Italy, he landed at Rhegium, and there stated
his views of the manner in which they ought to conduct the war. He was
opposed by Nicias, but Lamachus being of his opinion, they sailed for
Sicily forthwith, and took Catana. This was all that was done while he
was there, for he was soon after recalled by the Athenians to abide his
trial. At first, as we before said, there were only some slight
suspicions advanced against Alcibiades, and accusations by certain
slaves and strangers. But afterwards, in his absence, his enemies
attacked him more violently, and confounded together the breaking the
images with the profanation of the mysteries, as though both had been
committed in pursuance of the same conspiracy for changing the
government. The people proceeded to imprison all that were accused,
without distinction, and without hearing them, and repented now,
considering the importance of the charge, that they had not immediately
brought Alcibiades to his trial, and given judgment against him. Any of
his friends or acquaintance who fell into the people's hands, whilst
they were in this fury, did not fail to meet with very severe usage.
Thucydides has omitted to name the informers, but others mention
Dioclides and Teucer. Amongst whom is Phrynichus, the comic poet, in
whom we find the following:--
"O dearest Hermes! only do take care,
And mind you do not miss your footing there;
Should you get hurt, occasion may arise
For a new Dioclides to tell lies."
To which he makes Mercury return this answer:--
"I will so, for I feel no inclination
To reward Teucer for more information."
The truth is, his accusers alleged nothing that was certain or solid
against him. One of them, being asked how he knew the men who defaced
the images, replying, that he saw them by the light of the moon, made a
palpable misstatement, for it was just new moon when the fact was
committed. This made all men of understanding cry out upon the thing;
but the people were as eager as ever to receive further accusations,
nor was their first heat at all abated, but they instantly seized and
imprisoned every one that was accused. Amongst those who were detained
in prison for their trials was Andocides the orator, whose descent the
historian Hellanicus deduces from Ulysses. He was always supposed to
hate popular government, and to support oligarchy. The chief ground of
his being suspected of defacing the images was because the great
Mercury, which stood near his house, and was an ancient monument of the
tribe Aegeis, was almost the only statue of all the remarkable ones,
which remained entire. For this cause, it is now called the Mercury of
Andocides, all men giving it that name, though the inscription is
evidence to the contrary. It happened that Andocides, amongst the rest
who were prisoners upon the same account, contracted particular
acquaintance and intimacy with one Timaeus, a person inferior to him in
repute, but of remarkable dexterity and boldness. He persuaded
Andocides to accuse himself and some few others of this crime, urging
to him that, upon his confession, he would be, by the decree of the
people, secure of his pardon, whereas the event of judgment is
uncertain to all men, but to great persons, such as he was, most
formidable. So that it was better for him, if he regarded himself, to
save his life by a falsity, than to suffer an infamous death, as really
guilty of the crime. And if he had regard to the public good, it was
commendable to sacrifice a few suspected men, by that means to rescue
many excellent persons from the fury of the people. Andocides was
prevailed upon, and accused himself and some others, and, by the terms
of the decree, obtained his pardon, while all the persons named by him,
except some few who had saved themselves by flight, suffered death. To
gain the greater credit to his information, he accused his own servants
amongst others. But notwithstanding this, the people's anger was not
wholly appeased; and being now no longer diverted by the mutilators,
they were at leisure to pour out their whole rage upon Alcibiades. And,
in conclusion, they sent the galley named the Salaminian, to recall
him. But they expressly commanded those that were sent, to use no
violence, nor seize upon his person, but address themselves to him in
the mildest terms, requiring him to follow them to Athens in order to
abide his trial, and clear himself before the people. For they feared
mutiny and sedition in the army in an enemy's country, which indeed it
would have been easy for Alcibiades to effect, if he had wished it. For
the soldiers were dispirited upon his departure, expecting for the
future tedious delays, and that the war would be drawn out into a lazy
length by Nicias, when Alcibiades, who was the spur to action, was
taken away. For though Lamachus was a soldier, and a man of courage,
poverty deprived him of authority and respect in the army. Alcibiades,
just upon his departure, prevented Messena from falling into the hands
of the Athenians. There were some in that city who were upon the point
of delivering it up, but he, knowing the persons, gave information to
some friends of the Syracusans, and so defeated the whole contrivance.
When he arrived at Thurii, he went on shore, and, concealing himself
there, escaped those who searched after him. But to one who knew him,
and asked him if he durst not trust his own native country, he made
answer, "In everything else, yes; but in a matter that touches my life,
I would not even my own mother, lest she might by mistake throw in the
black ball instead of the white." When, afterwards, he was told that
the assembly had pronounced judgment of death against him, all he said
was, "I will make them feel that I am alive."
The information against him was conceived in this form:--
"Thessalus, the son of Cimon, of the township of Lacia, lays information
that Alcibiades, the son of Clinias, of the township of the Scambonidae,
has committed a crime against the goddesses Ceres and Proserpine, by
representing in derision the holy mysteries, and showing them to his
companions in his own house. Where, being habited in such robes
as are
used by the chief priest when he shows the holy things, he named himself
the chief priest, Polytion the torch-bearer, and Theodorus, of the
township of Phegaea, the herald; and saluted the rest of his company as
Initiates and Novices. All which was done contrary to the laws and
institutions of the Eumolpidae, and the heralds and priests of the
temple at Eleusis."
He was condemned as contumacious upon his not appearing, his property
confiscated, and it was decreed that all the priests and priestesses
should solemnly curse him. But one of them, Theano, the daughter of
Menon, of the township of Agraule, is said to have opposed that part of
the decree, saying that her holy office obliged her to make prayers,
but not execrations.
Alcibiades, lying under these heavy decrees and sentences, when first
he fled from Thurii, passed over into Peloponnesus and remained some
time at Argos. But being there in fear of his enemies and seeing
himself utterly hopeless of return to his native country, he sent to
Sparta, desiring safe conduct, and assuring them that he would make
them amends by his future services for all the mischief he had done
them while he was their enemy. The Spartans giving him the security he
desired, he went eagerly, was well received, and, at his very first
coming, succeeded in inducing them, without any further caution or
delay, to send aid to the Syracusans; and so roused and excited them,
that they forthwith dispatched Gylippus into Sicily, to crush the
forces which the Athenians had in Sicily. A second point was, to renew
the war upon the Athenians at home. But the third thing, and the most
important of all, was to make them fortify Decelea, which above
everything reduced and wasted the resources of the Athenians.
The renown which he earned by these public services was equaled by the
admiration he attracted to his private life; he captivated and won over
everybody by his conformity to Spartan habits. People who saw him
wearing his hair close cut, bathing in cold water, eating coarse meal,
and dining on black broth, doubted, or rather could not believe, that
he ever had a cook in his house, or had ever seen a perfumer, or had
worn a mantle of Milesian purple. For he had, as it was observed, this
peculiar talent and artifice for gaining men's affections, that he
could at once comply with and really embrace and enter into their
habits and ways of life, and change faster than the chameleon. One
color, indeed, they say the chameleon cannot assume; it cannot make
itself appear white; but Alcibiades, whether with good men or with bad,
could adapt himself to his company, and equally wear the appearance of
virtue or vice. At Sparta, he was devoted to athletic exercises, was
frugal and reserved; in Ionia, luxurious, gay, and indolent; in Thrace,
always drinking; in Thessaly, ever on horseback; and when he lived with
Tisaphernes, the Persian satrap, he exceeded the Persians themselves in
magnificence and pomp. Not that his natural disposition changed so
easily, nor that his real character was so very variable, but, whenever
he was sensible that by pursuing his own inclinations he might give
offense to those with whom he had occasion to converse, he transformed
himself into any shape, and adopted any fashion, that he observed to be
most agreeable to them. So that to have seen him at Lacedaemon, a man,
judging by the outward appearance, would have said, "'Tis not
Achilles's son, but he himself, the very man" that Lycurgus designed to
form; while his real feelings and acts would have rather provoked the
exclamation, "'Tis the same woman still." For while king Agis was
absent, and abroad with the army, he corrupted his wife Timaea, and had
a child born by her. Nor did she even deny it, but when she was brought
to bed of a son, called him in public Leotychides, but, amongst her
confidants and attendants, would whisper that his name was Alcibiades.
To such a degree was she transported by her passion for him. He, on the
other side, would say, in his vain way, he had not done this thing out
of mere wantonness of insult, nor to gratify a passion, but that his
race might one day be kings over the Lacedaemonians.
There were many who told Agis that this was so, but time itself gave
the greatest confirmation to the story. For Agis, alarmed by an
earthquake, had quitted his wife, and, for ten months after, was never
with her; Leotychides, therefore, being born after those ten months, he
would not acknowledge him for his son; which was the reason that
afterwards he was not admitted to the succession.
After the defeat which the Athenians received in Sicily, ambassadors
were dispatched to Sparta at once from Chios and Lesbos and Cyzicus, to
signify their purpose of revolting from the Athenians. The Boeotians
interposed in favor of the Lesbians, and Pharnabazus of the Cyzicenes,
but the Lacedaemonians, at the persuasion of Alcibiades, chose to
assist Chios before all others. He himself, also, went instantly to
sea, procured the immediate revolt of almost all Ionia, and,
cooperating with the Lacedaemonian generals, did great mischief to the
Athenians. But Agis was his enemy, hating him for having dishonored his
wife, and also impatient of his glory, as almost every enterprise and
every success was ascribed to Alcibiades. Others, also, of the most
powerful and ambitious amongst the Spartans, were possessed with
jealousy of him, and, at last, prevailed with the magistrates in the
city to send orders into Ionia that he should be killed. Alcibiades,
however, had secret intelligence of this, and, in apprehension of the
result, while he communicated all affairs to the Lacedaemonians, yet
took care not to put himself into their power. At last he retired to
Tisaphernes, the king of Persia's satrap, for his security, and
immediately became the first and most influential person about him. For
this barbarian, not being himself sincere, but a lover of guile and
wickedness, admired his address and wonderful subtlety. And, indeed,
the charm of daily intercourse with him was more than any character
could resist or any disposition escape. Even those who feared and
envied him could not but take delight, and have a sort of kindness for
him, when they saw him and were in his company. So that Tisaphernes,
otherwise a cruel character, and, above all other Persians, a hater of
the Greeks, was yet so won by the flatteries of Alcibiades, that he set
himself even to exceed him in responding to them. The most beautiful of
his parks, containing salubrious streams and meadows, where he had
built pavilions, and places of retirement royally and exquisitely
adorned, received by his direction the name of Alcibiades, and was
always so called and so spoken of.
Thus Alcibiades, quitting the interests of the Spartans, whom he could
no longer trust, because he stood in fear of Agis, endeavored to do
them ill offices, and render them odious to Tisaphernes, who, by his
means, was hindered from assisting them vigorously, and from finally
ruining the Athenians. For his advice was to furnish them but sparingly
with money, and so wear them out, and consume them insensibly; when
they had wasted their strength upon one another, they would both become
ready to submit to the king. Tisaphernes readily pursued his counsel,
and so openly expressed the liking and admiration which he had for him,
that Alcibiades was looked up to by the Greeks of both parties, and the
Athenians, now in their misfortunes, repented them of their severe
sentence against him. And he, on the other side, began to be troubled
for them, and to fear lest, if that commonwealth were utterly
destroyed, he should fall into the hands of the Lacedaemonians, his
enemies.
At that time the whole strength of the Athenians was in Samos. Their
fleet maintained itself here, and issued from these head-quarters to
reduce such as had revolted, and protect the rest of their territories;
in one way or other still contriving to be a match for their enemies at
sea. What they stood in fear of, was Tisaphernes and the Phoenician
fleet of one hundred and fifty galleys, which was said to be already
under sail; if those came, there remained then no hopes for the
commonwealth of Athens. Understanding this, Alcibiades sent secretly to
the chief men of the Athenians, who were then at Samos, giving them
hopes that he would make Tisaphernes their friend; he was willing, he
implied, to do some favor, not to the people, nor in reliance upon
them, but to the better citizens, if only, like brave men, they would
make the attempt to put down the insolence of the people, and, by
taking upon them the government, would endeavor to save the city from
ruin. All of them gave a ready ear to the proposal made by Alcibiades,
except only Phrynichus of the township of Dirades, one of the generals,
who suspected, as the truth was, that Alcibiades concerned not himself
whether the government were in the people or the better citizens, but
only sought by any means to make way for his return into his native
country, and to that end inveighed against the people, thereby to gain
the others, and to insinuate himself into their good opinion. But when
Phrynichus found his counsel to be rejected, and that he was himself
become a declared enemy of Alcibiades, he gave secret intelligence to
Astyochus, the enemy's admiral, cautioning him to beware of Alcibiades,
and to seize him as a double dealer, unaware that one traitor was
making discoveries to another. For Astyochus, who was eager to gain the
favor of Tisaphernes, observing the credit Alcibiades had with him,
revealed to Alcibiades all that Phrynichus had said against him.
Alcibiades at once dispatched messengers to Samos, to accuse Phrynichus
of the treachery. Upon this, all the commanders were enraged with
Phrynichus, and set themselves against him, and he, seeing no other way
to extricate himself from the present danger, attempted to remedy one
evil by a greater. He sent to Astyochus to reproach him for betraying
him, and to make an offer to him at the same time, to deliver into his
hands both the army and the navy of the Athenians. This occasioned no
damage to the Athenians, because Astyochus repeated his treachery, and
revealed also this proposal to Alcibiades. But this again was foreseen
by Phrynichus, who, expecting a second accusation from Alcibiades, to
anticipate him, advertised the Athenians beforehand that the enemy was
ready to sail in order to surprise them, and therefore advised them to
fortify their camp, and to be in a readiness to go aboard their ships.
While the Athenians were intent upon doing these things, they received
other letters from Alcibiades, admonishing them to beware of
Phrynichus, as one who designed to betray their fleet to the enemy, to
which they then gave no credit at all, conceiving that Alcibiades, who
knew perfectly the counsels and preparations of the enemy, was merely
making use of that knowledge, in order to impose upon them in this
false accusation of Phrynichus. Yet, afterwards, when Phrynichus was
stabbed with a dagger in the market-place by Hermon, one of the guard,
the Athenians, entering into an examination of the cause, solemnly
condemned Phrynichus of treason, and decreed crowns to Hermon and his
associates. And now the friends of Alcibiades, carrying all before them
at Samos, dispatched Pisander to Athens, to attempt a change of
government, and to encourage the aristocratical citizens to take upon
themselves the government, and overthrow the democracy, representing to
them, that, upon these terms, Alcibiades would procure them the
friendship and alliance of Tisaphernes.
This was the color and pretense made use of by those who desired to
change the government of Athens to an oligarchy. But as soon as they
prevailed, and had got the administration of affairs into their hands,
under the name of the Five Thousand (whereas, indeed, they were but
four hundred), they slighted Alcibiades altogether, and prosecuted the
war with less vigor; partly because they durst not yet trust the
citizens, who secretly detested this change, and partly because they
thought the Lacedaemonians, who always befriended the government of the
few, would be inclined to give them favorable terms.
The people in the city were terrified into submission, many of those
who had dared openly to oppose the four hundred having been put to
death. But those who were at Samos, indignant when they heard this
news, were eager to set sail instantly for the Piraeus; and, sending
for Alcibiades, they declared him general, requiring him to lead them
on to put down the tyrants. He, however, in that juncture, did not, as
it might have been thought a man would, on being suddenly exalted by
the favor of a multitude, think himself under an obligation to gratify
and submit to all the wishes of those who, from a fugitive and an
exile, had created him general of so great an army, and given him the
command of such a fleet. But, as became a great captain, he opposed
himself to the precipitate resolutions which their rage led them to,
and, by restraining them from the great error they were about to
commit, unequivocally saved the commonwealth. For if they then had
sailed to Athens, all Ionia and the islands and the Hellespont would
have fallen into the enemies' hands without opposition, while the
Athenians, involved in civil war, would have been fighting with one
another within the circuit of their own walls. It was Alcibiades alone,
or, at least, principally, who prevented all this mischief; for he not
only used persuasion to the whole army, and showed them the danger, but
applied himself to them, one by one, entreating some, and constraining
others. He was much assisted, however, by Thrasybulus of Stiria, who,
having the loudest voice, as we are told of all the Athenians, went
along with him, and cried out to those who were ready to be gone. A
second great service which Alcibiades did for them was, his undertaking
that the Phoenician fleet, which the Lacedaemonians expected to be sent
to them by the king of Persia, should either come in aid of the
Athenians, or otherwise should not come at all. He sailed off with all
expedition in order to perform this, and the ships, which had already
been seen as near as Aspendus, were not brought any further by
Tisaphernes, who thus deceived the Lacedaemonians; and it was by both
sides believed that they had been diverted by the procurement of
Alcibiades. The Lacedaemonians, in particular, accused him, that he had
advised the Barbarian to stand still, and suffer the Greeks to waste
and destroy one another, as it was evident that the accession of so
great a force to either party would enable them to take away the entire
dominion of the sea from the other side.
Soon after this, the four hundred usurpers were driven out, the friends
of Alcibiades vigorously assisting those who were for the popular
government. And now the people in the city not only desired, but
commanded Alcibiades to return home from his exile. He, however,
desired not to owe his return to the mere grace and commiseration of
the people, and resolved to come back, not with empty hands, but with
glory, and after some service done. To this end, he sailed from Samos
with a few ships, and cruised on the sea of Cnidos, and about the isle
of Cos; but receiving intelligence there that Mindarus, the Spartan
admiral, had sailed with his whole army into the Hellespont, and that
the Athenians had followed him, he hurried back to succor the Athenian
commanders, and, by good fortune, arrived with eighteen galleys at a
critical time. For both the fleets having engaged near Abydos, the
fight between them had lasted till night, the one side having the
advantage on one quarter, and the other on another. Upon his first
appearance, both sides formed a false impression; the enemy was
encouraged, and the Athenians terrified. But Alcibiades suddenly raised
the Athenian ensign in the admiral ship, and fell upon those galleys of
the Peloponnesians which had the advantage and were in pursuit. He soon
put these to flight, and followed them so close that he forced them on
shore, and broke the ships in pieces, the sailors abandoning them and
swimming away, in spite of all the efforts of Pharnabazus, who had come
down to their assistance by land, and did what he could to protect them
from the shore. In fine, the Athenians, having taken thirty of the
enemy's ships, and recovered all their own, erected a trophy. After the
gaining of so glorious a victory, his vanity made him eager to show
himself to Tisaphernes, and, having furnished himself with gifts and
presents, and an equipage suitable to his dignity, he set out to visit
him. But the thing did not succeed as he had imagined, for Tisaphernes
had been long suspected by the Lacedaemonians, and was afraid to fall
into disgrace with his king, upon that account, and therefore thought
that Alcibiades arrived very opportunely, and immediately caused him to
be seized, and sent away prisoner to Sardis; fancying, by this act of
injustice, to clear himself from all former imputations.
But about thirty days after, Alcibiades escaped from his keepers, and,
having got a horse, fled to Clazomenae, where he procured Tisaphernes'
additional disgrace by professing he was a party to his escape. From
there he sailed to the Athenian camp, and, being informed there that
Mindarus and Pharnabazus were together at Cyzicus, he made a speech to
the soldiers, telling them that sea-fighting, land-fighting, and, by
the gods, fighting against fortified cities too, must be all one for
them, as, unless they conquered everywhere, there was no money for
them. As soon as ever he got them on shipboard, he hasted to
Proconnesus, and gave command to seize all the small vessels they met,
and guard them safely in the interior of the fleet, that the enemy
might have no notice of his coming; and a great storm of rain,
accompanied with thunder and darkness, which happened at the same time,
contributed much to the concealment of his enterprise. Indeed, it was
not only undiscovered by the enemy, but the Athenians themselves were
ignorant of it, for he commanded them suddenly on board, and set sail
when they had abandoned all intention of it. As the darkness presently
passed away, the Peloponnesian fleet were seen riding out at sea in
front of the harbor of Cyzicus. Fearing, if they discovered the number
of his ships, they might endeavor to save themselves by land, he
commanded the rest of the captains to slacken, and follow him slowly,
whilst he, advancing with forty ships, showed himself to the enemy, and
provoked them to fight. The enemy, being deceived as to their numbers;
despised them, and, supposing they were to contend with those only,
made themselves ready and began the fight. But as soon as they were
engaged, they perceived the other part of the fleet coming down upon
them, at which they were so terrified that they fled immediately. Upon
that, Alcibiades, breaking through the midst of them with twenty of his
best ships, hastened to the shore, disembarked, and pursued those who
abandoned their ships and fled to land, and made a great slaughter of
them. Mindarus and Pharnabazus, coming to their succor, were utterly
defeated. Mindarus was slain upon the place, fighting valiantly;
Pharnabazus saved himself by flight. The Athenians slew great numbers
of their enemies, won much spoil, and took all their ships. They also
made themselves masters of Cyzicus, which was deserted by Pharnabazus,
and destroyed its Peloponnesian garrison, and thereby not only secured
to themselves the Hellespont, but by force drove the Lacedaemonians
from out of all the rest of the sea. They intercepted some letters
written to the ephors, which gave an account of this fatal overthrow,
after their short laconic manner. "Our hopes are at an end. Mindarus is
slain. The men starve. We know not what to do."
The soldiers who followed Alcibiades in this last fight were so exalted
with their success, and felt that degree of pride, that, looking on
themselves as invincible, they disdained to mix with the other
soldiers, who had been often overcome. For it happened not long before,
Thrasyllus had received a defeat near Ephesus, and, upon that occasion,
the Ephesians erected their brazen trophy to the disgrace of the
Athenians. The soldiers of Alcibiades reproached those who were under
the command of Thrasyllus with this misfortune, at the same time
magnifying themselves and their own commander, and it went so far that
they would not exercise with them, nor lodge in the same quarters. But
soon after, Pharnabazus, with a great force of horse and foot, falling
upon the soldiers of Thrasyllus, as they were laying waste the
territory of Abydos, Alcibiades came to their aid, routed Pharnabazus,
and, together with Thrasyllus, pursued him till it was night; and in
this action the troops united, and returned together to the camp,
rejoicing and congratulating one another. The next day he erected a
trophy, and then proceeded to lay waste with fire and sword the whole
province which was under Pharnabazus, where none ventured to resist;
and he took divers priests and priestesses, but released them without
ransom. He prepared next to attack the Chalcedonians, who had revolted
from the Athenians, and had received a Lacedaemonian governor and
garrison. But having intelligence that they had removed their corn and
cattle out of the fields, and were conveying it all to the Bithynians,
who were their friends, he drew down his army to the frontier of the
Bithynians, and then sent a herald to charge them with this proceeding.
The Bithynians, terrified at his approach, delivered up to him the
booty, and entered into alliance with him.
Afterwards he proceeded to the siege of Chalcedon, and enclosed it with
a wall from sea to sea. Pharnabazus advanced with his forces to raise
the siege, and Hippocrates, the governor of the town, at the same time,
gathering together all the strength he had, made a sally upon the
Athenians. Alcibiades divided his army so as to engage them both at
once, and not only forced Pharnabazus to a dishonorable flight, but
defeated Hippocrates, and killed him and a number of the soldiers with
him. After this he sailed into the Hellespont, in order to raise
supplies of money, and took the city of Selymbria, in which action,
through his precipitation, he exposed himself to great danger. For some
within the town had undertaken to betray it into his hands, and, by
agreement, were to give him a signal by a lighted torch about midnight.
But one of the conspirators beginning to repent himself of the design,
the rest, for fear of being discovered, were driven to give the signal
before the appointed hour. Alcibiades, as soon as he saw the torch
lifted up in the air, though his army was not in readiness to march,
ran instantly towards the walls, taking with him about thirty men only,
and commanding the rest of the army to follow him with all possible
speed. When he came thither, he found the gate opened for him, and
entered with his thirty men, and about twenty more light-armed men, who
were come up to them. They were no sooner in the city, but he perceived
the Selymbrians all armed, coming down upon him; so that there was no
hope of escaping if he stayed to receive them; and, on the other hand,
having been always successful till that day, wherever he commanded, he
could not endure to be defeated and fly. So, requiring silence by sound
of a trumpet, he commanded one of his men to make proclamation that the
Selymbrians should not take arms against the Athenians. This cooled
such of the inhabitants as were fiercest for the fight, for they
supposed that all their enemies were within the walls, and it raised
the hopes of others who were disposed to an accommodation. Whilst they
were parleying, and propositions making on one side and the other,
Alcibiades's whole army came up to the town. And now, conjecturing
rightly, that the Selymbrians were well inclined to peace, and fearing
lest the city might be sacked by the Thracians, who came in great
numbers to his army to serve as volunteers, out of kindness for him, he
commanded them all to retreat without the walls. And upon the
submission of the Selymbrians, he saved them from being pillaged, only
taking of them a sum of money, and, after placing an Athenian garrison
in the town, departed.
During this action, the Athenian captains who besieged Chalcedon
concluded a treaty with Pharnabazus upon these articles: that he should
give them a sum of money; that the Chalcedonians should return to the
subjection of Athens; and that the Athenians should make no inroad into
the province whereof Pharnabazus was governor; and Pharnabazus was also
to provide safe conducts for the Athenian ambassadors to the king of
Persia. Afterwards, when Alcibiades returned thither, Pharnabazus
required that he also should be sworn to the treaty; but he refused it,
unless Pharnabazus would swear at the same time. When the treaty was
sworn to on both sides Alcibiades went against the Byzantines, who had
revolted from the Athenians, and drew a line of circumvallation about
the city. But Anaxilaus and Lycurgus, together with some others, having
undertaken to betray the city to him upon his engagement to preserve
the lives and property of the inhabitants, he caused a report to be
spread abroad, as if, by reason of some unexpected movement in Ionia,
he should be obliged to raise the siege. And, accordingly, that day he
made a show to depart with his whole fleet; but returned the same
night, and went ashore with all his men at arms, and, silently and
undiscovered, marched up to the walls. At the same time, his ships
rowed into the harbor with all possible violence, coming on with much
fury, and with great shouts and outcries. The Byzantines, thus
surprised and astonished, while they all hurried to the defense of
their port and shipping, gave opportunity to those who favored the
Athenians, securely to receive Alcibiades into the city. Yet the
enterprise was not accomplished without fighting, for the
Peloponnesians, Boeotians, and Megarians not only repulsed those who
came out of the ships, and forced them on board again, but, hearing
that the Athenians were entered on the other side, drew up in order,
and went to meet them. Alcibiades, however, gained the victory after
some sharp fighting, in which he himself had the command of the right
wing, and Theramenes of the left, and took about three hundred, who
survived of the enemy, prisoners of war. After the battle, not one of
the Byzantines was slain, or driven out of the city, according to the
terms upon which the city was put into his hands, that they should
receive no prejudice in life or property. And thus Anaxilaus, being
afterwards accused at Lacedaemon for this treason, neither disowned nor
professed to be ashamed of the action; for he urged that he was not a
Lacedaemonian, but a Byzantine and saw not Sparta, but Byzantium, in
extreme danger; the city so blockaded that it was not possible to bring
in any new provisions, and the Peloponnesians and Boeotians, who were
in garrison, devouring the old stores, whilst the Byzantines, with
their wives and children, were starving; that he had not, therefore,
betrayed his country to enemies, but had delivered it from the
calamities of war, and had but followed the example of the most worthy
Lacedaemonians, who esteemed nothing to be honorable and just, but what
was profitable for their country. The Lacedaemonians, upon hearing his
defense, respected it, and discharged all that were accused.
And now Alcibiades began to desire to see his native country again, or
rather to show his fellow-citizens a person who had gained so many
victories for them. He set sail for Athens, the ships that accompanied
him being adorned with great numbers of shields and other spoils, and
towing after them many galleys taken from the enemy, and the ensigns
and ornaments of many others which he had sunk and destroyed; all of
them together amounting to two hundred. Little credit, perhaps, can be
given to what Duris the Samian, who professed to be descended from
Alcibiades, adds, that Chrysogonus, who had gained a victory at the
Pythian games, played upon his flute for the galleys, whilst the oars
kept time with the music; and that Callippides, the tragedian, attired
in his buskins, his purple robes, and other ornaments used in the
theater, gave the word to the rowers, and that the admiral galley
entered into the port with a purple sail. Neither Theopompus, nor
Ephorus, nor Xenophon, mention them. Nor, indeed, is it credible, that
one who returned from so long an exile, and such variety of
misfortunes, should come home to his countrymen in the style of
revelers breaking up from a drinking-party. On the contrary, he entered
the harbor full of fear, nor would he venture to go on shore, till,
standing on the deck, he saw Euryptolemus, his cousin, and others of
his friends and acquaintance, who were ready to receive him, and
invited him to land. As soon as he was landed, the multitude who came
out to meet him scarcely seemed so much as to see any of the other
captains, but came in throngs about Alcibiades, and saluted him with
loud acclamations, and still followed him; those who could press near
him crowned him with garlands, and they who could not come up so close
yet stayed to behold him afar off, and the old men pointed him out, and
showed him to the young ones. Nevertheless, this public joy was mixed
with some tears, and the present happiness was allayed by the
remembrance of the miseries they had endured. They made reflections,
that they could not have so unfortunately miscarried in Sicily, or been
defeated in any of their other expectations, if they had left the
management of their affairs formerly, and the command of their forces,
to Alcibiades, since, upon his undertaking the administration, when
they were in a manner driven from the sea, and could scarce defend the
suburbs of their city by land, and, at the same time, were miserably
distracted with intestine factions, he had raised them up from this low
and deplorable condition, and had not only restored them to their
ancient dominion of the sea, but had also made them everywhere
victorious over their enemies on land.
There had been a decree for recalling him from his banishment already
passed by the people, at the instance of Critias, the son of
Callaeschrus, as appears by his elegies, in which he puts Alcibiades in
mind of this service:--
From my proposal did that edict come,
Which from your tedious exile brought you home;
The public vote at first was moved by me,
And my voice put the seal to the decree.
The people being summoned to an assembly, Alcibiades came in amongst
them, and first bewailed and lamented his own sufferings, and, in
gentle terms complaining of the usage he had received, imputed all to
his hard fortune, and some ill genius that attended him: then he spoke
at large of their prospects, and exhorted them to courage and good
hope. The people crowned him with crowns of gold, and created him
general, both at land and sea, with absolute power. They also made a
decree that his estate should be restored to him, and that the
Eumolpidae and the holy heralds should absolve him from the curses
which they had solemnly pronounced against him by sentence of the
people. Which when all the rest obeyed, Theodorus, the high-priest,
excused himself, "For," said he, "if he is innocent, I never cursed
him."
But notwithstanding the affairs of Alcibiades went so prosperously, and
so much to his glory, yet many were still somewhat disturbed, and
looked upon the time of his arrival to be ominous. For on the day that
he came into the port, the feast of the goddess Minerva, which they
call the Plynteria, was kept. It is the twenty-fifth day of Thargelion,
when the Praxiergidae solemnize their secret rites, taking all the
ornaments from off her image, and keeping the part of the temple where
it stands close covered. Hence the Athenians esteem this day most
inauspicious and never undertake any thing of importance upon it; and,
therefore, they imagined that the goddess did not receive Alcibiades
graciously and propitiously, thus hiding her face and rejecting him.
Yet, notwithstanding, everything succeeded according to his wish. When
the one hundred galleys, that were to return with him, were fitted out
and ready to sail, an honorable zeal detained him till the celebration
of the mysteries was over. For ever since Decelea had been occupied, as
the enemy commanded the roads leading from Athens to Eleusis, the
procession, being conducted by sea, had not been performed with any
proper solemnity; they were forced to omit the sacrifices and dances
and other holy ceremonies, which had usually been performed in the way,
when they led forth Iacchus. Alcibiades, therefore, judged it would be
a glorious action, which would do honor to the gods and gain him esteem
with men, if he restored the ancient splendor to these rites, escorting
the procession again by land, and protecting it with his army in the
face of the enemy. For either, if Agis stood still and did not oppose,
it would very much diminish and obscure his reputation, or, in the
other alternative, Alcibiades would engage in a holy war, in the cause
of the gods, and in defense of the most sacred and solemn ceremonies;
and this in the sight of his country, where he should have all his
fellow- citizens witnesses of his valor. As soon as he had resolved
upon this design, and had communicated it to the Eumolpidae and
heralds, he placed sentinels on the tops of the hills, and at the break
of day sent forth his scouts. And then taking with him the priests and
Initiates and the Initiators, and encompassing them with his soldiers,
he conducted them with great order and profound silence; an august and
venerable procession, wherein all who did not envy him said, he
performed at once the office of a high-priest and of a general. The
enemy did not dare to attempt any thing against them, and thus he
brought them back in safety to the city. Upon which, as he was exalted
in his own thought, so the opinion which the people had of his conduct
was raised to that degree, that they looked upon their armies as
irresistible and invincible while he commanded them; and he so won,
indeed, upon the lower and meaner sort of people, that they
passionately desired to have him "tyrant" over them, and some of them
did not scruple to tell him so, and to advise him to put himself out of
the reach of envy, by abolishing the laws and ordinances of the people,
and suppressing the idle talkers that were ruining the state, that so
he might act and take upon him the management of affairs, without
standing in fear of being called to an account.
How far his own inclinations led him to usurp sovereign power, is
uncertain, but the most considerable persons in the city were so much
afraid of it, that they hastened him on ship-board as speedily as they
could, appointing the colleagues whom he chose, and allowing him all
other things as he desired. Thereupon he set sail with a fleet of one
hundred ships, and, arriving at Andros, he there fought with and
defeated as well the inhabitants as the Lacedaemonians who assisted
them. He did not, however, take the city; which gave the first occasion
to his enemies for all their accusations against him. Certainly, if
ever man was ruined by his own glory, it was Alcibiades. For his
continual success had produced such an idea of his courage and conduct,
that, if he failed in anything he undertook, it was imputed to his
neglect, and no one would believe it was through want of power. For
they thought nothing was too hard for him, if he went about it in good
earnest. They fancied, every day, that they should hear news of the
reduction of Chios, and of the rest of Ionia, and grew impatient that
things were not effected as fast and as rapidly as they could wish for
them. They never considered how extremely money was wanting, and that,
having to carry on war with an enemy who had supplies of all things
from a great king, he was often forced to quit his armament, in order
to procure money and provisions for the subsistence of his soldiers.
This it was which gave occasion for the last accusation which was made
against him. For Lysander, being sent from Lacedaemon with a commission
to be admiral of their fleet, and being furnished by Cyrus with a great
sum of money, gave every sailor four obols a day, whereas before they
had but three. Alcibiades could hardly allow his men three obols, and
therefore was constrained to go into Caria to furnish himself with
money. He left the care of the fleet, in his absence, to Antiochus, an
experienced seaman, but rash and inconsiderate, who had express orders
from Alcibiades not to engage, though the enemy provoked him. But he
slighted and disregarded these directions to that degree, that, having
made ready his own galley and another, he stood for Ephesus, where the
enemy lay, and, as he sailed before the heads of their galleys, used
every provocation possible, both in words and deeds. Lysander at first
manned out a few ships, and pursued him. But all the Athenian ships
coming in to his assistance, Lysander, also, brought up his whole
fleet, which gained an entire victory. He slew Antiochus himself, took
many men and ships, and erected a trophy.
As soon as Alcibiades heard this news, he returned to Samos, and
loosing from thence with his whole fleet, came and offered battle to
Lysander. But Lysander, content with the victory he had gained, would
not stir. Amongst others in the army who hated Alcibiades, Thrasybulus,
the son of Thrason, was his particular enemy, and went purposely to
Athens to accuse him, and to exasperate his enemies in the city against
him. Addressing the people, he represented that Alcibiades had ruined
their affairs and lost their ships by mere self-conceited neglect of
his duties, committing the government of the army, in his absence, to
men who gained his favor by drinking and scurrilous talking, whilst he
wandered up and down at pleasure to raise money, giving himself up to
every sort of luxury and excess amongst the courtesans of Abydos and
Ionia, at a time when the enemy's navy were on the watch close at hand.
It was also objected to him, that he had fortified a castle near
Bisanthe in Thrace, for a safe retreat for himself, as one that either
could not, or would not, live in his own country. The Athenians gave
credit to these informations, and showed the resentment and displeasure
which they had conceived against him, by choosing other generals.
As soon as Alcibiades heard of this, he immediately forsook the army,
afraid of what might follow; and, collecting a body of mercenary
soldiers, made war upon his own account against those Thracians who
called themselves free, and acknowledged no king. By this means he
amassed to himself a considerable treasure, and, at the same time,
secured the bordering Greeks from the incursions of the barbarians.
Tydeus, Menander, and Adimantus, the new-made generals, were at that
time posted at Aegospotami, with all the ships which the Athenians had
left. From whence they were used to go out to sea every morning, and
offer battle to Lysander, who lay near Lampsacus; and when they had
done so, returning back again, lay, all the rest of the day, carelessly
and without order, in contempt of the enemy. Alcibiades, who was not
far off, did not think so slightly of their danger, nor neglect to let
them know it, but, mounting his horse, came to the generals, and
represented to them that they had chosen a very inconvenient station,
where there was no safe harbor, and where they were distant from any
town; so that they were constrained to send for their necessary
provisions as far as Sestos. He also pointed out to them their
carelessness in suffering the soldiers, when they went ashore, to
disperse and wander up and down at their pleasure, while the enemy's
fleet, under the command of one general, and strictly obedient to
discipline, lay so very near them. He advised them to remove the fleet
to Sestos. But the admirals not only disregarded what he said, but
Tydeus, with insulting expressions; commanded him to be gone, saying,
that now not he, but others, had the command of the forces. Alcibiades,
suspecting something of treachery in them, departed, and told his
friends, who accompanied him out of the camp, that if the generals had
not used him with such insupportable contempt, he would within a few
days have forced the Lacedaemonians, however unwilling, either to have
fought the Athenians at sea, or to have deserted their ships. Some
looked upon this as a piece of ostentation only; others said, the thing
was probable, for that he might have brought down by land great numbers
of the Thracian cavalry and archers, to assault and disorder them in
their camp. The event however, soon made it evident how rightly he had
judged of the errors which the Athenians committed. For Lysander fell
upon them on a sudden, when they least suspected it, with such fury
that Conon alone, with eight galleys, escaped him; all the rest, which
were about two hundred, he took and carried away, together with three
thousand prisoners, whom he put to death. And within a short time
after, he took Athens itself, burnt all the ships which he found there,
and demolished their long walls.
After this, Alcibiades, standing in dread of the Lacedaemonians, who
were now masters both at sea and land, retired into Bithynia. He sent
thither great treasure before him, took much with him, but left much
more in the castle where he had before resided. But he lost great part
of his wealth in Bithynia, being robbed by some Thracians who lived in
those parts, and thereupon determined to go to the court of Artaxerxes,
not doubting but that the king, if he would make trial of his
abilities, would find him not inferior to Themistocles, besides that he
was recommended by a more honorable cause. For he went, not as
Themistocles did, to offer his service against his fellow-citizens, but
against their enemies, and to implore the king's aid for the defense of
his country. He concluded that Pharnabazus would most readily procure
him a safe conduct, and therefore went into Phrygia to him, and
continued to dwell there some time, paying him great respect, and being
honorably treated by him. The Athenians, in the meantime, were
miserably afflicted at their loss of empire, but when they were
deprived of liberty also, and Lysander set up thirty despotic rulers in
the city, in their ruin now they began to turn to those thoughts which,
while safety was yet possible, they would not entertain; they
acknowledged and bewailed their former errors and follies, and judged
this second ill-usage of Alcibiades to be of all the most inexcusable.
For he was rejected, without any fault committed by himself; and only
because they were incensed against his subordinate for having
shamefully lost a few ships, they much more shamefully deprived the
commonwealth of its most valiant and accomplished general. Yet in this
sad state of affairs, they had still some faint hopes left them, nor
would they utterly despair of the Athenian commonwealth, while
Alcibiades was safe. For they persuaded themselves that if before, when
he was an exile, he could not content himself to live idly and at ease,
much less now, if he could find any favorable opportunity, would he
endure the insolence of the Lacedaemonians, and the outrages of the
Thirty. Nor was it an absurd thing in the people to entertain such
imaginations, when the Thirty themselves were so very solicitous to be
informed and to get intelligence of all his actions and designs. In
fine, Critias represented to Lysander that the Lacedaemonians could
never securely enjoy the dominion of Greece, till the Athenian
democracy was absolutely destroyed; and though now the people of Athens
seemed quietly and patiently to submit to so small a number of
governors, yet so long as Alcibiades lived, the knowledge of this fact
would never suffer them to acquiesce in their present circumstances.
Yet Lysander would not be prevailed upon by these representations, till
at last he received secret orders from the magistrates of Lacedaemon,
expressly requiring him to get Alcibiades dispatched: whether it was
that they feared his energy and boldness in enterprising what was
hazardous, or that it was done to gratify king Agis. Upon receipt of
this order, Lysander sent away a messenger to Pharnabazus, desiring him
to put it in execution. Pharnabazus committed the affair to Magaeus,
his brother, and to his uncle Susamithres. Alcibiades resided at that
time in a small village in Phrygia, together with Timandra, a mistress
of his. As he slept, he had this dream: he thought himself attired in
his mistress's habit, and that she, holding him in her arms, dressed
his head and painted his face as if he had been a woman; others say, he
dreamed that he saw Magaeus cut off his head and burn his body; at any
rate, it was but a little while before his death that he had these
visions. Those who were sent to assassinate him had not courage enough
to enter the house, but surrounded it first, and set it on fire.
Alcibiades, as soon as he perceived it, getting together great
quantities of clothes and furniture, threw them upon the fire to choke
it, and, having wrapped his cloak about his left arm, and holding his
naked sword in his right, he cast himself into the middle of the fire,
and escaped securely through it, before his clothes were burnt. The
barbarians, as soon as they saw him, retreated, and none of them durst
stay to expect him, or to engage with him, but, standing at a distance,
they slew him with their darts and arrows. When he was dead, the
barbarians departed, and Timandra took up his dead body, and, covering
and wrapping it up in her own robes, she buried it as decently and as
honorably as her circumstances would allow. It is said, that the famous
Lais, who was called the Corinthian, though she was a native of
Hyccara, a small town in Sicily, from whence she was brought a captive,
was the daughter of this Timandra. There are some who agree with this
account of Alcibiades's death in all points, except that they impute
the cause of it neither to Pharnabazus, nor Lysander, nor the
Lacedaemonians: but, they say, he was keeping with him a young lady of
a noble house, whom he had debauched, and that her brothers, not being
able to endure the indignity, set fire by night to the house where he
was living, and, as he endeavored to save himself from the flames, slew
him with their darts, in the manner just related.
CORIOLANUS
The patrician house of the Marcii in Rome produced many men of
distinction, and among the rest, Ancus Marcius, grandson to Numa by his
daughter, and king after Tullus Hostilius. Of the same family were also
Publius and Quintus Marcius, which two conveyed into the city the best
and most abundant supply of water they have at Rome. As likewise
Censorinus, who, having been twice chosen censor by the people,
afterwards himself induced them to make a law that nobody should bear
that office twice. But Caius Marcius, of whom I now write, being left
an orphan, and brought up under the widowhood of his mother, has shown
us by experience, that, although the early loss of a father may be
attended with other disadvantages, yet it can hinder none from being
either virtuous or eminent in the world, and that it is no obstacle to
true goodness and excellence; however bad men may be pleased to lay the
blame of their corruptions upon that misfortune and the neglect of them
in their minority. Nor is he less an evidence to the truth of their
opinion, who conceive that a generous and worthy nature without proper
discipline, like a rich soil without culture, is apt, with its better
fruits, to produce also much that is bad and faulty. While the force
and vigor of his soul, and a persevering constancy in all he undertook,
led him successfully into many noble achievements, yet, on the other
side, also, by indulging the vehemence of his passion, and through all
obstinate reluctance to yield or accommodate his humors and sentiments
to those of people about him, he rendered himself incapable of acting
and associating with others. Those who saw with admiration how proof
his nature was against all the softnesses of pleasure, the hardships of
service, and the allurements of gain, while allowing to that universal
firmness of his the respective names of temperance, fortitude, and
justice, yet, in the life of the citizen and the statesman, could not
choose but be disgusted at the severity and ruggedness of his
deportment, and with his overbearing, haughty, and imperious temper.
Education and study, and the favors of the muses, confer no greater
benefit on those that seek them, than these humanizing and civilizing
lessons, which teach our natural qualities to submit to the limitations
prescribed by reason, and to avoid the wildness of extremes.
Those were times at Rome in which that kind of worth was most esteemed
which displayed itself in military achievements; one evidence of which
we find in the Latin word for virtue, which is properly equivalent to
manly courage. As if valor and all virtue had been the same thing, they
used as the common term the name of the particular excellence. But
Marcius, having a more passionate inclination than any of that age for
feats of war, began at once, from his very childhood, to handle arms;
and feeling that adventitious implements and artificial arms would
effect little, and be of small use to such as have not their native and
natural weapons well fixed and prepared for service, he so exercised
and inured his body to all sorts of activity and encounter, that,
besides the lightness of a racer, he had a weight in close seizures and
wrestlings with an enemy, from which it was hard for any to disengage
himself; so that his competitors at home in displays of bravery, loath
to own themselves inferior in that respect, were wont to ascribe their
deficiencies to his strength of body, which they said no resistance and
no fatigue could exhaust.
The first time he went out to the wars, being yet a stripling, was when
Tarquinius Superbus, who had been king of Rome and was afterwards
expelled, after many unsuccessful attempts, now entered upon his last
effort, and proceeded to hazard all as it were upon a single throw. A
great number of the Latins and other people of Italy joined their
forces, and were marching with him toward the city, to procure his
restoration; not, however, so much out of a desire to serve and oblige
Tarquin, as to gratify their own fear and envy at the increase of the
Roman greatness, which they were anxious to check and reduce. The
armies met and engaged in a decisive battle, in the vicissitudes of
which, Marcius, while fighting bravely in the dictator's presence, saw
a Roman soldier struck down at a little distance, and immediately
stepped in and stood before him, and slew his assailant. The general,
after having gained the victory, crowned him for this act, one of the
first, with a garland of oaken branches; it being the Roman custom thus
to adorn those who had saved the life of a citizen; whether that the
law intended some special honor to the oak, in memory of the Arcadians,
a people the oracle had made famous by the name of acorn-eaters; or
whether the reason of it was because they might easily, and in all
places where they fought, have plenty of oak for that purpose; or,
finally, whether the oaken wreath, being sacred to Jupiter, the
guardian of the city, might, therefore, be thought a propel ornament
for one who preserved a citizen. And the oak, in truth, is the tree
which bears the most and the prettiest fruit of any that grow wild, and
is the strongest of all that are under cultivation; its acorns were the
principal diet of the first mortals, and the honey found in it gave
them drink. I may say, too, it furnished fowl and other creatures as
dainties, in producing mistletoe for birdlime to ensnare them. In this
battle, meantime, it is stated that Castor and Pollux appeared, and,
immediately after the battle, were seen at Rome just by the fountain
where their temple now stands, with their horses foaming with sweat,
and told the news of the victory to the people in the Forum. The
fifteenth of July, being the day of this conquest, became consequently
a solemn holiday sacred to the Twin Brothers.
It may be observed in general, that when young men arrive early at fame
and repute, if they are of a nature but slightly touched with
emulation, this early attainment is apt to extinguish their thirst and
satiate their small appetite; whereas the first distinctions of more
solid and weighty characters do but stimulate and quicken them and take
them away, like a wind, in the pursuit of honor; they look upon these
marks and testimonies to their virtue not as a recompense received for
what they have already done, but as a pledge given by themselves of
what they will perform hereafter, ashamed now to forsake or underlive
the credit they have won, or, rather, not to exceed and obscure all
that is gone before by the luster of their following actions. Marcius,
having a spirit of this noble make, was ambitious always to surpass
himself, and did nothing, how extraordinary soever, but he thought he
was bound to outdo it at the next occasion; and ever desiring to give
continual fresh instances of his prowess he added one exploit to
another, and heaped up trophies upon trophies, so as to make it a
matter of contest also among his commanders, the later still vying with
the earlier, which should pay him the greatest honor and speak highest
in his commendation. Of all the numerous wars and conflicts in those
days, there was not one from which he returned without laurels and
rewards. And, whereas others made glory the end of their daring, the
end of his glory was his mother's gladness; the delight she took to
hear him praised and to see him crowned, and her weeping for joy in his
embraces, rendered him, in his own thoughts, the most honored and most
happy person in the world. Epaminondas is similarly said to have
acknowledged his feeling, that it was the greatest felicity of his
whole life that his father and mother survived to hear of his
successful generalship and his victory at Leuctra. And he had the
advantage, indeed, to have both his parents partake with him, and enjoy
the pleasure of his good fortune. But Marcius, believing himself bound
to pay his mother Volumnia all that gratitude and duty which would have
belonged to his father, had he also been alive, could never satiate
himself in his tenderness and respect to her. He took a wife, also, at
her request and wish, and continued, even after he had children, to
live still with his mother, without parting families.
The repute of his integrity and courage had, by this time, gained him a
considerable influence and authority in Rome, when the senate, favoring
the wealthier citizens, began to be at variance with the common people,
who made sad complaints of the rigorous and inhuman usage they received
from the money-lenders. For as many as were behind with them, and had
any sort of property, they stripped of all they had, by the way of
pledges and sales; and such as through former exactions were reduced
already to extreme indigence, and had nothing more to be deprived of,
these they led away in person and put their bodies under constraint,
notwithstanding the scars and wounds that they could show in
attestation of their public services in numerous campaigns; the last of
which had been against the Sabines, which they undertook upon a promise
made by their rich creditors that they would treat them with more
gentleness for the future, Marcus Valerius, the consul, having, by
order from the senate, engaged also for the performance of it. But
when, after they had fought courageously and beaten the enemy, there
was, nevertheless, no moderation or forbearance used, and the senate
also professed to remember nothing of that agreement, and sat without
testifying the least concern to see them dragged away like slaves and
their goods seized upon as formerly, there began now to be open
disorders and dangerous meetings in the city; and the enemy, also,
aware of the popular confusion, invaded and laid waste the country. And
when the consuls now gave notice, that all who were of an age to bear
arms should make their personal appearance, but found no one regard the
summons, the members of the government, then coming to consult what
course should be taken, were themselves again divided in opinion: some
thought it most advisable to comply a little in favor of the poor, by
relaxing their overstrained rights, and mitigating the extreme rigor of
the law, while others withstood this proposal; Marcius in particular,
with more vehemence than the rest, alleging that the business of money
on either side was not the main thing in question, urged that this
disorderly proceeding was but the first insolent step towards open
revolt against the laws, which it would become the wisdom of the
government to check at the earliest moment.
There had been frequent assemblies of the whole senate, within a small
compass of time, about this difficulty, but without any certain issue;
the poor commonalty, therefore, perceiving there was likely to be no
redress of their grievances, on a sudden collected in a body, and,
encouraging each other in their resolution, forsook the city with one
accord and seizing the hill which is now called the Holy Mount, sat
down by the river Anio, without committing any sort of violence or
seditious outrage, but merely exclaiming, as they went along, that they
had this long time past been, in fact, expelled and excluded from the
city by the cruelty of the rich; that Italy would everywhere afford
them the benefit of air and water and a place of burial, which was all
they could expect in the city, unless it were, perhaps, the privilege
of being wounded and killed in time of war for the defense of their
creditors. The senate, apprehending the consequences, sent the most
moderate and popular men of their own order to treat with them.
Menenius Agrippa, their chief spokesman, after much entreaty to the
people, and much plain speaking on behalf of the senate, concluded, at
length, with the celebrated fable. "It once happened," he said, "that
all the other members of a man mutinied against the stomach, which they
accused as the only idle, uncontributing part in the whole body, while
the rest were put to hardships and the expense of much labor to supply
and minister to its appetites. The stomach, however, merely ridiculed
the silliness of the members, who appeared not to be aware that the
stomach certainly does receive the general nourishment, but only to
return it again, and redistribute it amongst the rest. Such is the
case," he said, "ye citizens, between you and the senate. The counsels
and plans that are there duly digested, convey and secure to all of
you, your proper benefit and support."
A reconciliation ensued, the senate acceding to the request of the
people for the annual election of five protectors for those in need of
succor, the same that are now called the tribunes of the people; and
the first two they pitched upon were Junius Brutus and Sicinnius
Vellutus, their leaders in the secession.
The city being thus united, the commons stood presently to their arms,
and followed their commanders to the war with great alacrity. As for
Marcius, though he was not a little vexed himself to see the populace
prevail so far and gain ground of the senators, and might observe many
other patricians have the same dislike of the late concessions, he yet
besought them not to yield at least to the common people in the zeal
and forwardness they now allowed for their country's service, but to
prove that they were superior to them, not so much in power and riches
as in merit and worth.
The Romans were now at war with the Volscian nation, whose principal
city was Corioli; when, therefore, Cominius the consul had invested
this important place, the rest of the Volscians, fearing it would be
taken, mustered up whatever force they could from all parts, to relieve
it, designing to give the Romans battle before the city, and so attack
them on both sides. Cominius, to avoid this inconvenience, divided his
army, marching himself with one body to encounter the Volscians on
their approach from without, and leaving Titus Lartius, one of the
bravest Romans of his time, to command the other and continue the
siege. Those within Corioli, despising now the smallness of their
number, made a sally upon them, and prevailed at first, and pursued the
Romans into their trenches. Here it was that Marcius, flying out with a
slender company, and cutting those in pieces that first engaged him,
obliged the other assailants to slacken their speed; and then, with
loud cries, called upon the Romans to renew the battle. For he had,
what Cato thought a great point in a soldier, not only strength of hand
and stroke, but also a voice and look that of themselves were a terror
to an enemy. Divers of his own party now rallying and making up to him,
the enemies soon retreated; but Marcius, not content to see them draw
off and retire, pressed hard upon the rear, and drove them, as they
fled away in haste, to the very gates of their city; where, perceiving
the Romans to fall back from their pursuit, beaten off by the multitude
of darts poured in upon them from the walls, and that none of his
followers had the hardiness to think of falling in pellmell among the
fugitives and so entering a city full of enemies in arms, he,
nevertheless, stood and urged them to the attempt, crying out, that
fortune had now set open Corioli, not so much to shelter the
vanquished, as to receive the conquerors. Seconded by a few that were
willing to venture with him, he bore along through the crowd, made good
his passage, and thrust himself into the gate through the midst of
them, nobody at first daring to resist him. But when the citizens, on
looking about, saw that a very small number had entered, they now took
courage, and came up and attacked them. A combat ensued of the most
extraordinary description, in which Marcius, by strength of hand, and
swiftness of foot, and daring of soul, overpowering every one that he
assailed, succeeded in driving the enemy to seek refuge, for the most
part, in the interior of the town, while the remainder submitted, and
threw down their arms; thus affording Lartius abundant opportunity to
bring in the rest of the Romans with ease and safety.
Corioli being thus surprised and taken, the greater part of the
soldiers employed themselves in spoiling and pillaging it, while
Marcius indignantly reproached them, and exclaimed that it was a
dishonorable and unworthy thing, when the consul and their
fellow-citizens had now perhaps encountered the other Volscians, and
were hazarding their lives in battle, basely to misspend the time in
running up and down for booty, and, under a pretense of enriching
themselves, keep out of danger. Few paid him any attention, but,
putting himself at the head of these, he took the road by which the
consul's army had marched before him, encouraging his companions, and
beseeching them, as they went along, not to give up, and praying often
to the gods, too, that he might be so happy as to arrive before the
fight was over, and come seasonably up to assist Cominius, and partake
in the peril of the action.
It was customary with the Romans of that age, when they were moving
into battle array, and were on the point of taking up their bucklers,
and girding their coats about them, to make at the same time an
unwritten will, or verbal testament, and to name who should be their
heirs, in the hearing of three or four witnesses. In this precise
posture Marcius found them at his arrival, the enemy being advanced
within view.
They were not a little disturbed by his first appearance, seeing him
covered with blood and sweat, and attended with a small train; but when
he hastily made up to the consul with gladness in his looks, giving him
his hand, and recounting to him how the city had been taken, and when
they saw Cominius also embrace and salute him, every one took fresh
heart; those that were near enough hearing, and those that were at a
distance guessing, what had happened; and all cried out to be led to
battle. First, however, Marcius desired to know of him how the
Volscians had arrayed their army, and where they had placed their best
men, and on his answering that he took the troops of the Antiates in
the center to be their prime warriors, that would yield to none in
bravery, "Let me then demand and obtain of you," said Marcius, "that we
may be posted against them." The consul granted the request, with much
admiration of his gallantry. And when the conflict began by the
soldiers darting at each other, and Marcius sallied out before the
rest, the Volscians opposed to him were not able to make head against
him; wherever he fell in, he broke their ranks, and made a lane through
them; but the parties turning again, and enclosing him on each side
with their weapons, the consul, who observed the danger he was in,
dispatched some of the choicest men he had for his rescue. The conflict
then growing warm and sharp about Marcius, and many falling dead in a
little space, the Romans bore so hard upon the enemies, and pressed
them with such violence, that they forced them at length to abandon
their ground, and to quit the field. And, going now to prosecute the
victory, they besought Marcius, tired out with his toils, and faint and
heavy through the loss of blood, that he would retire to the camp. He
replied, however, that weariness was not for conquerors, and joined
with them in the pursuit. The rest of the Volscian army was in like
manner defeated, great numbers killed, and no less taken captive.
The day after, when Marcius, with the rest of the army, presented
themselves at the consul's tent, Cominius rose, and having rendered all
due acknowledgment to the gods for the success of that enterprise,
turned next to Marcius, and first of all delivered the strongest
encomium upon his rare exploits, which he had partly been an eyewitness
of himself, in the late battle, and had partly learned from the
testimony of Lartius. And then he required him to choose a tenth part
of all the treasure and horses and captives that had fallen into their
hands, before any division should be made to others; besides which, he
made him the special present of a horse with trappings and ornaments,
in honor of his actions. The whole army applauded; Marcius, however,
stepped forth, and declaring his thankful acceptance of the horse, and
his gratification at the praises of his general, said, that all other
things, which he could only regard rather as mercenary advantages than
any significations of honor, he must waive, and should be content with
the ordinary proportion of such rewards. "I have only," said he; "one
special grace to beg, and this I hope you will not deny me. There was a
certain hospitable friend of mine among the Volscians, a man of probity
and virtue, who is become a prisoner, and from former wealth and
freedom is now reduced to servitude. Among his many misfortunes let my
intercession redeem him from the one of being sold as a common slave."
Such a refusal and such a request on the part of Marcius were followed
with yet louder acclamations; and he had many more admirers of this
generous superiority to avarice, than of the bravery he had shown in
battle. The very persons who conceived some envy and despite to see him
so specially honored, could not but acknowledge, that one who so nobly
could refuse reward, was beyond others worthy to receive it; and were
more charmed with that virtue which made him despise advantage, than
with any of those former actions that had gained him his title to it.
It is the hither accomplishment to use money well than to use arms; but
not to need it is more noble than to use it.
When the noise of approbation and applause ceased, Cominius, resuming,
said, "It is idle, fellow-soldiers, to force and obtrude those other
gifts of ours on one who is unwilling to accept them ; let us,
therefore, give him one of such a kind that he cannot well reject it;
let us pass a vote, I mean, that he shall hereafter be called
Coriolanus, unless you think that his performance at Corioli has itself
anticipated any such resolution." Hence, therefore, he had his third
name of Coriolanus, making it all the plainer that Caius was a personal
proper name, and the second, or surname, Marcius, one common to his
house and family; the third being a subsequent addition which used to
be imposed either from some particular act or fortune, bodily
characteristic, or good quality of the bearer. Just as the Greeks, too,
gave additional names in old time, in some cases from some achievement,
Soter, for example, and Callinicus; or personal appearance, as Physcon
and Grypus; good qualities, Euergetes and Philadelphus; good fortune,
Eudaemon, the title of the second Battus. Several monarchs have also
had names given them in mockery, as Antigonus was called Doson, and
Ptolemy, Lathyrus. This sort of title was yet more common among the
Romans. One of the Metelli was surnamed Diadematus, because he walked
about for a long time with a bandage on his head, to conceal a scar;
and another, of the same family, got the name of Celer, from the
rapidity he displayed in giving a funeral entertainment of gladiators
within a few days after his father's death, his speed and energy in
doing which was thought extraordinary. There are some, too, who even at
this day take names from certain casual incidents at their nativity; a
child that is born when his father is away from home is called
Proculus; or Postumus, if after his decease; and when twins come into
the world, and one dies at the birth, the survivor has the name of
Vopiscus. From bodily peculiarities they derive not only their Syllas
and Nigers, but their Caeci and Claudii; wisely endeavoring to accustom
their people not to reckon either the loss of sight, or any other
bodily misfortune, as a matter of disgrace to them, but to answer to
such names without shame, as if they were really their own. But this
discussion better befits another place.
The war against the Volscians was no sooner at an end, than the popular
orators revived domestic troubles, and raised another sedition, without
any new cause of complaint or just grievance to proceed upon, but
merely turning the very mischiefs that unavoidably ensued from their
former contests into a pretext against the patricians. The greatest
part of their arable land had been left unsown and without tillage, and
the time of war allowing them no means or leisure to import provision
from other countries, there was an extreme scarcity. The movers of the
people then observing, that there was no corn to be bought, and that,
if there had been, they had no money to buy it, began to calumniate the
wealthy with false stories, and whisper it about, as if they, out of
malice, had purposely contrived the famine. Meanwhile, there came an
embassy from the Velitrani, proposing to deliver up their city to the
Romans, and desiring they would send some new inhabitants to people it,
as a late pestilential disease had swept away so many of the natives,
that there was hardly a tenth part remaining of their whole community.
This necessity of the Velitrani was considered by all more prudent
people as most opportune in the present state of affairs; since the
dearth made it needful to ease the city of its superfluous members, and
they were in hope also, at the same time, to dissipate the gathering
sedition by ridding themselves of the more violent and heated
partisans, and discharging, so to say, the elements of disease and
disorder in the state. The consuls, therefore, singled out such
citizens to supply the desolation at Velitrae, and gave notice to
others, that they should be ready to march against the Volscians, with
the politic design of preventing intestine broils by employment abroad,
and in the hope, that when rich as well as poor, plebeians and
patricians, should be mingled again in the same army and the same camp,
and engage in one common service for the public, it would mutually
dispose them to reconciliation and friendship.
But Sicinnius and Brutus, the popular orators, interposed, crying out,
that the consuls disguised the most cruel and barbarous action in the
world under that mild and plausible name of a colony, and were simply
precipitating so many poor citizens into a mere pit of destruction,
bidding them settle down in a country where the air was charged with
disease, and the ground covered with dead bodies, and expose themselves
to the evil influence of a strange and angered deity. And then, as if
it would not satisfy their hatred to destroy some by hunger, and offer
others to the mercy of a plague, they must proceed to involve them also
in a needless war of their own making, that no calamity might be
wanting to complete the punishment of the citizens for refusing to
submit to that of slavery to the rich.
By such addresses, the people were so possessed, that none of them
would appear upon the consular summons to be enlisted for the war; and
they showed entire aversion to the proposal for a new plantation; so
that the senate was at a loss what to say or do. But Marcius, who began
now to bear himself higher and to feel confidence in his past actions,
conscious, too, of the admiration of the best and greatest men of Rome,
openly took the lead in opposing the favorers of the people. The colony
was dispatched to Velitrae, those that were chosen by lot being
compelled to depart upon high penalties; and when they obstinately
persisted in refusing to enroll themselves for the Volscian service, he
mustered up his own clients, and as many others as could be wrought
upon by persuasion, and with these made an inroad into the territories
of the Antiates, where, finding a considerable quantity of corn, and
collecting much booty, both of cattle and prisoners, he reserved
nothing for himself in private, but returned safe to Rome, while those
that ventured out with him were seen laden with pillage, and driving
their prey before them. This sight filled those that had stayed at home
with regret for their perverseness, with envy at their fortunate
fellow-citizens, and with feelings of dislike to Marcius, and hostility
to his growing reputation and power, which might probably be used
against the popular interest.
Not long after he stood for the consulship; when, however, the people
began to relent and incline to favor him, being sensible what a shame
it would be to repulse and affront a man of his birth and merit, after
he had done them so many signal services. It was usual for those who
stood for offices among them to solicit and address themselves
personally to the citizens, presenting themselves in the forum with the
toga on alone, and no tunic under it; either to promote their
supplications by the humility of their dress, or that such as had
received wounds might more readily display those marks of their
fortitude. Certainly, it was not out of suspicion of bribery and
corruption that they required all such petitioners for their favor to
appear ungirt and open, without any close garment; as it was much
later, and many ages after this, that buying and selling crept in at
their elections, and money became an ingredient in the public
suffrages; proceeding thence to attempt their tribunals, and even
attack their camps, till, by hiring the valiant, and enslaving iron to
silver, it grew master of the state, and turned their commonwealth into
a monarchy. For it was well and truly said that the first destroyer of
the liberties of a people is he who first gave them bounties and
largesses. At Rome the mischief seems to have stolen secretly in, and
by little and little, not being at once discerned and taken notice of.
It is not certainly known who the man was that did there first either
bribe the citizens, or corrupt the courts; whereas, in Athens, Anytus,
the son of Anthemion, is said to have been the first that gave money to
the judges, when on his trial, toward the latter end of the
Peloponnesian war, for letting the fort of Pylos fall into the hands of
the enemy; in a period while the pure and golden race of men were still
in possession of the Roman forum.
Marcius, therefore, as the fashion of candidates was showing the scars
and gashes that were still visible on his body, from the many conflicts
in which he had signalized himself during a service of seventeen years
together they were, so to say, put out of countenance at this display
of merit, and told one another that they ought in common modesty to
create him consul. But when the day of election was now come, and
Marcius appeared in the forum, with a pompous train of senators
attending him; and the patricians all manifested greater concern, and
seemed to be exerting greater efforts, than they had ever done before
on the like occasion, the commons then fell off again from the kindness
they had conceived for him, and in the place of their late benevolence,
began to feel something of indignation and envy; passions assisted by
the fear they entertained, that if a man of such aristocratic temper,
and so influential among the patricians, should be invested with the
power which that office would give him, he might employ it to deprive
the people of all that liberty which was yet left them. In conclusion,
they rejected Marcius. Two other names were announced, to the great
mortification of the senators, who felt as if the indignity reflected
rather upon themselves than on Marcius. He, for his part, could not
bear the affront with any patience. He had always indulged his temper,
and had regarded the proud and contentious element of human nature as a
sort of nobleness and magnanimity; reason and discipline had not imbued
him with that solidity and equanimity which enters so largely into the
virtues of the statesman. He had never learned how essential it is for
any one who undertakes public business, and desires to deal with
mankind, to avoid above all things that self-will, which, as Plato
says, belongs to the family of solitude; and to pursue, above all
things, that capacity so generally ridiculed, of submission to ill
treatment. Marcius, straightforward and direct, and possessed with the
idea that to vanquish and overbear all apposition is the true part of
bravery, and never imagining that it was the weakness and womanishness
of his nature that broke out, so to say, in these ulcerations of anger,
retired, full of fury and bitterness against the people. The young
patricians, too, all that were proudest and most conscious of their
noble birth, had always been devoted to his interest, and, adhering to
him now, with a fidelity that did him no good, aggravated his
resentment with the expression of their indignation and condolence. He
had been their captain, and their willing instructor in the arts of
war, when out upon expeditions, and their model in that true emulation
and love of excellence which makes men extol, without envy or jealousy,
each other's brave achievements.
In the midst of these distempers, a large quantity of corn reached
Rome, a great part bought up in Italy, but an equal amount sent as a
present from Syracuse, from Gelo, then reigning there. Many began now
to hope well of their affairs, supposing the city, by this means, would
be delivered at once, both of its want and discord. A council,
therefore, being presently held, the people came flocking about the
senate-house, eagerly awaiting the issue of that deliberation,
expecting that the market prices would now be less cruel, and that what
had come as a gift would be distributed as such. There were some within
who so advised the senate; but Marcius, standing up, sharply inveighed
against those who spoke in favor of the multitude, calling them
flatterers of the rabble traitors to the nobility, and alleging, that,
by such gratifications, they did but cherish those ill seeds of
boldness and petulance that had been sown among the people, to their
own prejudice, which they should have done well to observe and stifle
at their first appearance, and not have suffered the plebeians to grow
so strong, by granting them magistrates of such authority as the
tribunes. They were, indeed, even now formidable to the state, since
everything they desired was granted them; no constraint was put on
their will; they refused obedience to the consuls, and, overthrowing
all law and magistracy, gave the title of magistrate to their private
factious leaders. "When things are come to such a pass, for us to sit
here and decree largesses and bounties for them, like those Greeks
where the populace is supreme and absolute, what would it be else,"
said he, "but to take their disobedience into pay, and maintain it for
the common ruin of us all? They certainly cannot look upon these
liberalities as a reward of public service, which they know they have
so often deserted; nor yet of those secessions, by which they openly
renounced their country; much less of the calumnies and slanders they
have been always so ready to entertain against the senate; but will
rather conclude that a bounty which seems to have no other visible
cause or reason, must needs be the effect of our fear and flattery; and
will, therefore, set no limit to their disobedience, nor ever cease
from disturbances and sedition. Concession is mere madness; if we have
any wisdom and resolution at all, we shall, on the contrary, never rest
till we have recovered from them that tribunician power they have
extorted from us; as being a plain subversion of the consulship, and a
perpetual ground of separation in our city, that is no longer one, as
heretofore, but has in this received such a wound and rupture, as is
never likely to close and unite again, or suffer us to be of one mind,
and to give over inflaming our distempers, and being a torment to each
other."
Marcius, with much more to this purpose, succeeded, to an extraordinary
degree, in inspiring the younger men with the same furious sentiments,
and had almost all the wealthy on his side, who cried him up as the
only person their city had, superior alike to force and flattery; some
of the older men, however, opposed him, suspecting the consequences.
As, indeed, there came no good of it; for the tribunes, who were
present, perceiving how the proposal of Marcius took, ran out into the
crowd with exclamations, calling on the plebeians to stand together,
and come in to their assistance. The assembly met, and soon became
tumultuous. The sum of what Marcius had spoken, having been reported to
the people, excited them to such fury, that they were ready to break in
upon the senate. The tribunes prevented this, by laying all the blame
on Coriolanus, whom, therefore, they cited by their messengers to come
before them, and defend himself. And when he contemptuously repulsed
the officers who brought him the summons, they came themselves, with
the Aediles, or overseers of the market, proposing to carry him away by
force, and, accordingly, began to lay hold on his person. The
patricians, however, coming to his rescue, not only thrust off the
tribunes, but also beat the Aediles, that were their seconds in the
quarrel; night, approaching, put an end to the contest. But, as soon as
it was day, the consuls, observing the people to be highly exasperated,
and that they ran from all quarters and gathered in the forum, were
afraid for the whole city, so that, convening the senate afresh, they
desired them to advise how they might best compose and pacify the
incensed multitude by equitable language and indulgent decrees; since,
if they wisely considered the state of things, they would find that it
was no time to stand upon terms of honor, and a mere point of glory;
such a critical conjuncture called for gentle methods, and for
temperate and humane counsels. The majority, therefore, of the senators
giving way, the consuls proceeded to pacify the people in the best
manner they were able, answering gently to such imputations and charges
as had been cast upon the senate, and using much tenderness and
moderation in the admonitions and reproof they gave them. On the point
of the price of provisions, they said, there should be no difference at
all between them. When a great part of the commonalty was grown cool,
and it appeared from their orderly and peaceful behavior that they had
been very much appeased by what they had heard, the tribunes, standing
up, declared, in the name of the people, that since the senate was
pleased to act soberly and do them reason, they, likewise, should be
ready to yield in all that was fair and equitable on their side; they
must insist, however, that Marcius should give in his answer to the
several charges as follows: first, could he deny that he instigated the
senate to overthrow the government and annul the privileges of the
people? and, in the next place, when called to account for it, did he
not disobey their summons? and, lastly, by the blows and other public
affronts to the Aediles, had he not done all he could to commence a
civil war?
These articles were brought in against him, with a design either to
humble Marcius, and show his submission if, contrary to his nature, he
should now court and sue the people; or, if he should follow his
natural disposition, which they rather expected from their judgment of
his character, then that he might thus make the breach final between
himself and the people.
He came, therefore, as it were, to make his apology, and clear himself;
in which belief the people kept silence, and gave him a quiet hearing.
But when, instead of the submissive and deprecatory language expected
from him, he began to use not only an offensive kind of freedom,
seeming rather to accuse than apologize, but, as well by the tone of
his voice as the air of his countenance, displayed a security that was
not far from disdain and contempt of them, the whole multitude then
became angry, and gave evident signs of impatience and disgust; and
Sicinnius, the most violent of the tribunes, after a little private
conference with his colleagues, proceeded solemnly to pronounce before
them all, that Marcius was condemned to die by the tribunes of the
people, and bid the Aediles take him to the Tarpeian rock, and without
delay throw him headlong from the precipice. When they, however, in
compliance with the order, came to seize upon his body, many, even of
the plebeian party, felt it to be a horrible and extravagant act; the
patricians, meantime, wholly beside themselves with distress and
horror, hurried up with cries to the rescue; and while some made actual
use of their hands to hinder the arrest, and, surrounding Marcius, got
him in among them, others, as in so great a tumult no good could be
done by words, stretched out theirs, beseeching the multitude that they
would not proceed to such furious extremities; and at length, the
friends and acquaintance of the tribunes, wisely perceiving how
impossible it would be to carry off Marcius to punishment without much
bloodshed and slaughter of the nobility, persuaded them to forbear
everything unusual and odious; not to dispatch him by any sudden
violence, or without regular process, but refer the cause to the
general suffrage of the people. Sicinnius then, after a little pause,
turning to the patricians, demanded what their meaning was, thus
forcibly to rescue Marcius out of the people's hands, as they were
going to punish him; when it was replied by them, on the other side,
and the question put, "Rather, how came it into your minds, and what is
it you design, thus to drag one of the worthiest men of Rome, without
trial, to a barbarous and illegal execution?" "Very well," said
Sicinnius, "you shall have no ground in this respect for quarrel or
complaint against the people. The people grant your request, and your
partisan shall be tried. We appoint you, Marcius," directing his speech
to him, "the third market-day ensuing, to appear and defend yourself,
and to try if you can satisfy the Roman citizens of your innocence, who
will then judge your case by vote." The patricians were content with
such a truce and respite for that time, and gladly returned home,
having for the present brought off Marcius in safety.
During the interval before the appointed time (for the Romans hold
their sessions every ninth day, which from that cause are called
nundinae in Latin), a war fell out with the Antiates, likely to be of
some continuance, which gave them hope they might one way or other
elude the judgment. The people, they presumed, would become tractable,
and their indignation lessen and languish by degrees in so long a
space, if occupation and war did not wholly put it out of their mind.
But when, contrary to expectation, they made a speedy agreement with
the people of Antium, and the army came back to Rome, the patricians
were again in great perplexity, and had frequent meetings to consider
how things might be arranged, without either abandoning Marcius, or yet
giving occasion to the popular orators to create new disorders. Appius
Claudius, whom they counted among the senators most averse to the
popular interest, made a solemn declaration, and told them beforehand,
that the senate would utterly destroy itself and betray the government,
if they should once suffer the people to assume the authority of
pronouncing sentence upon any of the patricians; but the oldest
senators and most favorable to the people maintained, on the other
side, that the people would not be so harsh and severe upon them, as
some were pleased to imagine, but rather become more gentle and humane
upon the concession of that power, since it was not contempt of the
senate, but the impression of being contemned by it, which made them
pretend to such a prerogative. Let that be once allowed them as a mark
of respect and kind feeling, and the mere possession of this power of
voting would at once dispossess them of their animosity.
When, therefore, Marcius saw that the senate was in pain and suspense
upon his account, divided, as it were, betwixt their kindness for him
and their apprehensions from the people, he desired to know of the
tribunes what the crimes were they intended to charge him with, and
what the heads of the indictment they would oblige him to plead to
before the people; and being told by them that he was to be impeached
for attempting usurpation, and that they would prove him guilty of
designing to establish arbitrary government, stepping forth upon this,
"Let me go then," he said, "to clear myself from that imputation before
an assembly of them; I freely offer myself to any sort of trial, nor do
I refuse any kind of punishment whatsoever; only," he continued, "let
what you now mention be really made my accusation, and do not you play
false with the senate." On their consenting to these terms, he came to
his trial. But when the people met together, the tribunes, contrary to
all former practice, extorted first, that votes should be taken, not by
centuries, but tribes; a change, by which the indigent and factious
rabble, that had no respect for honesty and justice, would be sure to
carry it against those who were rich and well known, and accustomed to
serve the state in war. In the next place, whereas they had engaged to
prosecute Marcius upon no other head but that of tyranny, which could
never be made out against him, they relinquished this plea, and urged
instead, his language in the senate against an abatement of the price
of corn, and for the overthrow of the tribunician power; adding
further, as a new impeachment, the distribution that was made by him of
the spoil and booty he had taken from the Antiates, when he overran
their country, which he had divided among those that had followed him,
whereas it ought rather to have been brought into the public treasury;
which last accusation did, they say, more discompose Marcius than all
the rest, as he had not anticipated he should ever be questioned on
that subject, and, therefore, was less provided with any satisfactory
answer to it on the sudden. And when, by way of excuse, he began to
magnify the merits of those who had been partakers with him in the
action, those that had stayed at home, being more numerous than the
other, interrupted him with outcries. In conclusion, when they came to
vote, a majority of three tribes condemned him; the penalty being
perpetual banishment. The sentence of his condemnation being
pronounced, the people went away with greater triumph and exultation
than they had ever shown for any victory over enemies; while the senate
was in grief and deep dejection, repenting now and vexed to the soul
that they had not done and suffered all things rather than give way to
the insolence of the people, and permit them to assume and abuse so
great an authority. There was no need then to look at men's dresses, or
other marks of distinction, to know one from another: any one who was
glad was, beyond all doubt, a plebeian; any one who looked sorrowful, a
patrician.
Marcius alone, himself, was neither stunned nor humiliated. In mien,
carriage, and countenance, he bore the appearance of entire composure,
and while all his friends were full of distress, seemed the only man
that was not touched with his misfortune. Not that either reflection
taught him, or gentleness of temper made it natural for him, to submit:
he was wholly possessed, on the contrary, with a profound and deep-
seated fury, which passes with many for no pain at all. And pain, it is
true, transmuted, so to say, by its own fiery heat into anger, loses
every appearance of depression and feebleness; the angry man makes a
show of energy, as the man in a high fever does of natural heat, while,
in fact, all this action of the soul is but mere diseased palpitation,
distention, and inflammation. That such was his distempered state
appeared presently plainly enough in his actions. On his return home,
after saluting his mother and his wife, who were all in tears and full
of loud lamentations, and exhorting them to moderate the sense they had
of his calamity, he proceeded at once to the city gates, whither all
the nobility came to attend him; and so, not so much as taking anything
with him, or making any request to the company, he departed from them,
having only three or four clients with him. He continued solitary for a
few days in a place in the country, distracted with a variety of
counsels, such as rage and indignation suggested to him; and proposing
to himself no honorable or useful end, but only how he might best
satisfy his revenge on the Romans, he resolved at length to raise up a
heavy war against them from their nearest neighbors. He determined,
first to make trial of the Volscians, whom he knew to be still vigorous
and flourishing, both in men and treasure, and he imagined their force
and power was not so much abated, as their spite and auger increased,
by the late overthrows they had received from the Romans.
There was a man of Antium, called Tullus Aufidius, who, for his wealth
and bravery and the splendor of his family, had the respect and
privilege of a king among the Volscians, but whom Marcius knew to have
a particular hostility to himself, above all other Romans. Frequent
menaces and challenges had passed in battle between them, and those
exchanges of defiance to which their hot and eager emulation is apt to
prompt young soldiers had added private animosity to their national
feelings of opposition. Yet for all this, considering Tullus to have a
certain generosity of temper, and knowing that no Volscian, so much as
he, desired an occasion to requite upon the Romans the evils they had
done, he did what much confirms the saying, that
Hard and unequal is with wrath the strife, Which makes us buy its
pleasure with our life.
Putting on such a dress as would make him appear to any whom he might
meet most unlike what he really was, thus, like Ulysses, --
The town he entered of his mortal foes.
His arrival at Antium was about evening, and though several met him in
the streets, yet he passed along without being known to any, and went
directly to the house of Tullus, and, entering undiscovered, went up to
the fire-hearth, and seated himself there without speaking a word,
covering up his head. Those of the family could not but wonder, and yet
they were afraid either to raise or question him, for there was a
certain air of majesty both in his posture and silence, but they
recounted to Tullus, being then at supper, the strangeness of this
accident. He immediately rose from table and came in, and asked him who
he was, and for what business he came thither; and then Marcius,
unmuffling himself, and pausing awhile, "If," said he, "you cannot yet
call me to mind, Tullus, or do not believe your eyes concerning me, I
must of necessity be my own accuser. I am Caius Marcius, the author of
so much mischief to the Volscians; of which, were I seeking to deny it,
the surname of Coriolanus I now bear would be a sufficient evidence
against me. The one recompense I received for all the hardships and
perils I have gone through, was the title that proclaims my enmity to
your nation, and this is the only thing which is still left me. Of all
other advantages, I have been stripped and deprived by the envy and
outrage of the Roman people, and the cowardice and treachery of the
magistrates and those of my own order. I am driven out as an exile, and
become an humble suppliant at your hearth, not so much for safety and
protection (should I have come hither, had I been afraid to die?), as
to seek vengeance against those that expelled me; which, methinks, I
have already obtained, by putting myself into your hands. If,
therefore, you have really a mind to attack your enemies, come then,
make use of that affliction you see me in to assist the enterprise, and
convert my personal infelicity into a common blessing to the Volscians;
as, indeed, I am likely to be more serviceable in fighting for than
against you, with the advantage, which I now possess, of knowing all
the secrets of the enemy that I am attacking. But if you decline to
make any further attempts, I am neither desirous to live myself, nor
will it be well in you to preserve a person who has been your rival and
adversary of old, and now, when he offers you his service, appears
unprofitable and useless to you."
Tullus, on hearing this, was extremely rejoiced, and giving him his
right hand, exclaimed, "Rise, Marcius, and be of good courage; it is a
great happiness you bring to Antium, in the present you make us of
yourself; expect everything that is good from the Volscians." He then
proceeded to feast and entertain him with every display of kindness,
and for several days after they were in close deliberation together on
the prospects of a war.
While this design was forming, there were great troubles and commotions
at Rome, from the animosity of the senators against the people,
heightened just now by the late condemnation of Marcius. Besides that,
their soothsayers and priests, and even private persons, reported signs
and prodigies not to be neglected; one of which is stated to have
occurred as follows: Titus Latinus, a man of ordinary condition, but of
a quiet and virtuous character, free from all superstitious fancies,
and yet more from vanity and exaggeration, had an apparition in his
sleep, as if Jupiter came and bade him tell the senate, that it was
with a bad and unacceptable dancer that they had headed his procession.
Having beheld the vision, he said, he did not much attend to it at the
first appearance; but after he had seen and slighted it a second and
third time, he had lost a hopeful son, and was himself struck with
palsy. He was brought into the senate on a litter to tell this, and the
story goes, that he had no sooner delivered his message there, but he
at once felt his strength return, and got upon his legs, and went home
alone, without need of any support. The senators, in wonder and
surprise, made a diligent search into the matter. That which his dream
alluded to was this: some citizen had, for some heinous offense, given
up a servant of his to the rest of his fellows, with charge to whip him
first through the market, and then to kill him; and while they were
executing this command, and scourging the wretch, who screwed and
turned himself into all manner of shapes and unseemly motions, through
the pain he was in, the solemn procession in honor of Jupiter chanced
to follow at their heels. Several of the attendants on which were,
indeed, scandalized at the sight, yet no one of them interfered, or
acted further in the matter than merely to utter some common reproaches
and execrations on a master who inflicted so cruel a punishment. For
the Romans treated their slaves with great humanity in these times,
when, working and laboring themselves, and living together among them,
they naturally were more gentle and familiar with them. It was one of
the severest punishments for a slave who had committed a fault, to have
to take the piece of wood which supports the pole of a wagon, and carry
it about through the neighborhood; a slave who had once undergone the
shame of this, and been thus seen by the household and the neighbors,
had no longer any trust or credit among them, and had the name of
furcifer; furca being the Latin word for a prop, or support.
When, therefore, Latinus had related his dream, and the senators were
considering who this disagreeable and ungainly dancer could be, some of
the company, having been struck with the strangeness of the punishment,
called to mind and mentioned the miserable slave who was lashed through
the streets and afterward put to death. The priests, when consulted,
confirmed the conjecture; the master was punished; and orders given for
a new celebration of the procession and the spectacles in honor of the
god. Numa, in other respects also a wise arranger of religious offices,
would seem to have been especially judicious in his direction, with a
view to the attentiveness of the people, that, when the magistrates or
priests performed any divine worship, a herald should go before, and
proclaim with a loud voice, Hoc age, Do this you are about, and so warn
them to mind whatever sacred action they were engaged in, and not
suffer any business or worldly avocation to disturb and interrupt it;
most of the things which men do of this kind, being in a manner forced
from them, and effected by constraint. It is usual with the Romans to
recommence their sacrifices and processions and spectacles, not only
upon such a cause as this, but for any slighter reason. If but one of
the horses which drew the chariots called Tensae, upon which the images
of their gods were placed, happened to fail and falter, or if the
driver took hold of the reins with his left hand, they would decree
that the whole operation should commence anew; and, in latter ages, one
and the same sacrifice was performed thirty times over, because of the
occurrence of some defect or mistake or accident in the service. Such
was the Roman reverence and caution in religious matters.
Marcius and Tullus were now secretly discoursing of their project with
the chief men of Antium, advising them to invade the Romans while they
were at variance among themselves. And when shame appeared to hinder
them from embracing the motion, as they had sworn to a truce and
cessation of arms for the space of two years, the Romans themselves
soon furnished them with a pretense, by making proclamation, out of
some jealousy or slanderous report, in the midst of the spectacles,
that all the Volscians who had come to see them should depart the city
before sunset. Some affirm that this was a contrivance of Marcius, who
sent a man privately to the consuls, falsely to accuse the Volscians of
intending to fall upon the Romans during the games, and to set the city
on fire. This public affront roused and inflamed their hostility to the
Romans, and Tullus, perceiving it, made his advantage of it,
aggravating the fact, and working on their indignation, till he
persuaded them, at last, to dispatch ambassadors to Rome, requiring the
Romans to restore that part of their country and those towns which they
had taken from the Volscians in the late war. When the Romans heard the
message, they indignantly replied, that the Volscians were the first
that took up arms, but the Romans would be the last to lay them down.
This answer being brought back, Tullus called a general assembly of the
Volscians; and the vote passing for a war, he then proposed that they
should call in Marcius, laying aside the remembrance of former grudges,
and assuring themselves that the services they should now receive from
him as a friend and associate, would abundantly outweigh any harm or
damage he had done them when he was their enemy. Marcius was
accordingly summoned, and having made his entrance, and spoken to the
people, won their good opinion of his capacity, his skill, counsel, and
boldness, not less by his present words than by his past actions. They
joined him in commission with Tullus, to have full power as general of
their forces in all that related to the war. And he, fearing lest the
time that would be requisite to bring all the Volscians together in
full preparation might be so long as to lose him the opportunity of
action, left order with the chief persons and magistrates of the city
to provide other things, while he himself, prevailing upon the most
forward to assemble and march out with him as volunteers without
staying to be enrolled, made a sudden inroad into the Roman confines,
when nobody expected him, and possessed himself of so much booty, that
the Volscians found they had more than they could either carry away or
use in the camp. The abundance of provision which he gained, and the
waste and havoc of the country which he made, were, however, of
themselves and in his account, the smallest results of that invasion;
the great mischief he intended, and his special object in all, was to
increase at Rome the suspicions entertained of the patricians, and to
make them upon worse terms with the people. With this view, while
spoiling all the fields and destroying the property of other men, he
took special care to preserve their farms and lands untouched, and
would not allow his soldiers to ravage there, or seize upon anything
which belonged to them. From hence their invectives and quarrels
against one another broke out afresh, and rose to a greater height than
ever; the senators reproaching those of the commonalty with their late
injustice to Marcius; while the plebeians, on their side, did not
hesitate to accuse them of having, out of spite and revenge, solicited
him to this enterprise, and thus, when others were involved in the
miseries of a war by their means, they sat like unconcerned spectators,
as being furnished with a guardian and protector abroad of their wealth
and fortunes, in the very person of the public enemy. After this
incursion and exploit, which was of great advantage to the Volscians,
as they learned by it to grow more hardy and to contemn their enemy,
Marcius drew them off, and returned in safety.
But when the whole strength of the Volscians was brought together into
the field, with great expedition and alacrity, it appeared so
considerable a body, that they agreed to leave part in garrison, for
the security of their towns, and with the other part to march against
the Romans. Marcius now desired Tullus to choose which of the two
charges would be most agreeable to him. Tullus answered, that since he
knew Marcius to be equally valiant with himself, and far more
fortunate, he would have him take the command of those that were going
out to the war, while he made it his care to defend their cities at
home, and provide all conveniences for the army abroad. Marcius thus
reinforced, and much stronger than before, moved first towards the city
called Circaeum, a Roman colony. He received its surrender, and did the
inhabitants no injury; passing thence, he entered and laid waste the
country of the Latins, where he expected the Romans would meet him, as
the Latins were their confederates and allies, and had often sent to
demand succors from them. The people, however, on their part, showing
little inclination for the service, and the consuls themselves being
unwilling to run the hazard of a battle, when the time of their office
was almost ready to expire, they dismissed the Latin ambassadors
without any effect; so that Marcius, finding no army to oppose him,
marched up to their cities, and, having taken by force Toleria, Lavici,
Peda, and Bola, all of which offered resistance, not only plundered
their houses, but made a prey likewise of their persons. Meantime, he
showed particular regard for all such as came over to his party, and,
for fear they might sustain any damage against his will, encamped at
the greatest distance he could, and wholly abstained from the lands of
their property.
After, however, that he had made himself master of Bola, a town not
above ten miles from Rome, where he found great treasure, and put
almost all the adults to the sword; and when, on this, the other
Volscians that were ordered to stay behind and protect their cities,
hearing of his achievements and success, had not patience to remain any
longer at home, but came hastening in their arms to Marcius, saying
that he alone was their general and the sole commander they would own;
with all this, his name and renown spread throughout all Italy, and
universal wonder prevailed at the sudden and mighty revolution in the
fortunes of two nations which the loss and the accession of a single
man had effected.
All at Rome was in great disorder; they were utterly averse from
fighting, and spent their whole time in cabals and disputes and
reproaches against each other; until news was brought that the enemy
had laid close siege to Lavinium, where were the images and sacred
things of their tutelar gods, and from whence they derived the origin
of their nation, that being the first city which Aeneas built in Italy.
These tidings produced a change as universal as it was extraordinary in
the thoughts inclinations of the people, but occasioned a yet stranger
revulsion of feeling among the patricians. The people now were for
repealing the sentence against Marcius, an calling him back into the
city; whereas the senate, being assembled to preconsider the decree,
opposed and finally rejected the proposal, either out of the mere humor
of contradicting and withstanding the people in whatever they should
desire, or because they were unwilling, perhaps, that he should owe his
restoration to their kindness or having now conceived a displeasure
against Marcius himself, who was bringing distress upon all alike,
though he had not been ill treated by all, and was become, declared
enemy to his whole country, though he knew well enough that the
principal and all the better men condoled with him, and suffered in his
injuries.
This resolution of theirs being made public, the people could proceed
no further, having no authority to pass anything by suffrage, and enact
it for a law, without a previous decree from the senate. When Marcius
heard of this, he was more exasperated than ever, and, quitting the
seige of Lavinium, marched furiously towards Rome, and encamped at a
place called the Cluilian ditches, about five miles from the city. The
nearness of his approach did, indeed, create much terror and
disturbance, yet it also ended their dissensions for the present; as
nobody now, whether consul or senator, durst any longer contradict the
people in their design of recalling Marcius but, seeing their women
running affrighted up and down the streets, and the old men at prayer
in every temple with tears and supplications, and that, in short, there
was a general absence among them both of courage and wisdom to provide
for their own safety, they came at last to be all of one mind, that the
people had been in the right to propose as they did a reconciliation
with Marcius, and that the senate was guilty of a fatal error to begin
a quarrel with him when it was a time to forget offenses, and they
should have studied rather to appease him. It was, therefore,
unanimously agreed by all parties, that ambassadors should be
dispatched, offering him return to his country, and desiring he would
free them from the terrors and distresses of the war. The persons sent
by the senate with this message were chosen out of his kindred and
acquaintance, who naturally expected a very kind reception at their
first interview, upon the score of that relation and their old
familiarity and friendship with him; in which, however, they were much
mistaken. Being led through the enemy's camp, they found him sitting in
state amidst the chief men of the Volscians, looking insupportably
proud and arrogant. He bade them declare the cause of their coming,
which they did in the most gentle and tender terms, and with a behavior
suitable to their language. When they had made an end of speaking, he
returned them a sharp answer, full of bitterness and angry resentment,
as to what concerned himself, and the ill usage he had received from
them; but as general of the Volscians, he demanded restitution of the
cities and the lands which had been seized upon during the late war,
and that the same rights and franchises should be granted them at Rome,
which had been before accorded to the Latins; since there could be no
assurance that a peace would be firm and lasting, without fair and just
conditions on both sides. He allowed them thirty days to consider and
resolve.
The ambassadors being departed, he withdrew his forces out of the Roman
territory. This, those of the Volscians who had long envied his
reputation, and could not endure to see the influence he had with the
people laid hold of, as the first matter of complaint against him.
Among them was also Tullus himself, not for any wrong done him
personally by Marcius, but through the weakness incident to human
nature. He could not help feeling mortified to find his own glory thus
totally obscured, and himself overlooked and neglected now by the
Volscians, who had so great an opinion of their new leader that he
alone was all to them, while other captains, they thought, should be
content with that share of power, which he might think fit to accord.
From hence the first seeds of complaint and accusation were scattered
about in secret, and the malcontents met and heightened each other's
indignation, saying, that to retreat as he did was in effect to betray
and deliver up, though not their cities and their arms, yet what was as
bad, the critical times and opportunities for action, on which depend
the preservation or the loss of everything else; since in less than
thirty days' space, for which he had given a respite from the war,
there might happen the greatest changes in the world. Yet Marcius spent
not any part of the time idly, but attacked the confederates of the
enemy ravaged their land, and took from them seven great and populous
cities in that interval. The Romans, in the meanwhile, durst not
venture out to their relief; but were utterly fearful, and showed no
more disposition or capacity for action, than if their bodies had been
struck with a palsy, and become destitute of sense and motion. But when
the thirty days were expired, and Marcius appeared again with his whole
army, they sent another embassy- to beseech him that he would moderate
his displeasure, and would withdraw the Volscian army, and then make
any proposals he thought best for both parties; the Romans would make
no concessions to menaces, but if it were his opinion that the
Volscians ought to have any favor shown them, upon laying down their
arms they might obtain all they could in reason desire.
The reply of Marcius was, that he should make no answer to this as
general of the Volscians, but, in the quality still of a Roman citizen,
he would advise and exhort them, as the case stood, not to carry it so
high, but think rather of just compliance, and return to him, before
three days were at an end, with a ratification of his previous demands;
otherwise, they must understand that they could not have any further
freedom of passing through his camp upon idle errands.
When the ambassadors were come back, and had acquainted the senate with
the answer, seeing the whole state now threatened as it were by a
tempest, and the waves ready to overwhelm them, they were forced, as we
say in extreme perils, to let down the sacred anchor. A decree was
made, that the whole order of their priests, those who initiated in the
mysteries or had the custody of them, and those who, according to the
ancient practice of the country, divined from birds, should all and
every one of them go in full procession to Marcius with their
pontifical array, and the dress and habit which they respectively used
in their several functions, and should urge him, as before, to withdraw
his forces, and then treat with his countrymen in favor of the
Volscians. He consented so far, indeed, as to give the deputation an
admittance into his camp, but granted nothing at all, nor so much as
expressed himself more mildly; but, without capitulating or receding,
bade them once for all choose whether they would yield or fight, since
the old terms were the only terms of peace. When this solemn
application proved ineffectual, the priests, too, returning
unsuccessful, they determined to sit still within the city, and keep
watch about their walls, intending only to repulse the enemy, should he
offer to attack them, and placing their hopes chiefly in time and in
extraordinary accidents of fortune; as to themselves, they felt
incapable of doing any thing for their own deliverance; mere confusion
and terror and ill-boding reports possessed the whole city; till at
last a thing happened not unlike what we so often find represented,
without, however, being accepted as true by people in general, in
Homer. On some great and unusual occasion we find him say: --
But him the blue-eyed goddess did inspire;
and elsewhere: --
But some immortal turned my mind away,
To think what others of the deed would say;
and again: --
Were 't his own thought or were 't a god's command.
People are apt, in such passages, to censure and disregard the poet, as
if, by the introduction of mere impossibilities and idle fictions, he
were denying the action of a man's own deliberate thought and free
choice; which is not, in the least, the case in Homer's representation,
where the ordinary, probable, and habitual conclusions that common
reason leads to are continually ascribed to our own direct agency. He
certainly says frequently enough: --
But I consulted with my own great soul;
or, as in another passage: --
He spoke. Achilles, with quick pain possessed,
Revolved two purposes in his strong breast;
and in a third: --
-- Yet never to her wishes won
The just mind of the brave Bellerophon.
But where the act is something out of the way and extraordinary, and
seems in a manner to demand some impulse of divine possession and
sudden inspiration to account for it here he does introduce divine
agency, not to destroy, but to prompt the human will; not to create in
us another agency, but offering images to stimulate our own; images
that in no sort or kind make our action involuntary, but give occasion
rather to spontaneous action, aided and sustained by feelings of
confidence and hope. For either we must totally dismiss and exclude
divine influences from every kind of causality and origination in what
we do, or else what other way can we conceive in which divine aid and
cooperation can act? Certainly we cannot suppose that the divine beings
actually and literally turn our bodies and direct our hands and our
feet this way or that, to do what is right: it is obvious that they
must actuate the practical and elective element of our nature, by
certain initial occasions, by images presented to the imagination, and
thoughts suggested to the mind, such either as to excite it to, or
avert and withhold it from, any particular course.
In the perplexity which I have described, the Roman women went, some to
other temples, but the greater part, and the ladies of highest rank, to
the altar of Jupiter Capitolinus. Among these suppliants was Valeria,
sister to the great Poplicola, who did the Romans eminent service both
in peace and war. Poplicola himself was now deceased, as is told in the
history of his life; but Valeria lived still, and enjoyed great respect
and honor at Rome, her life and conduct no way disparaging her birth.
She, suddenly seized with the sort of instinct or emotion of mind which
I have described, and happily lighting, not without divine guidance, on
the right expedient, both rose herself, and bade the others rise, and
went directly with them to the house of Volumnia, the mother of
Marcius. And coming in and finding her sitting with her daughter-in-
law, and with her little grandchildren on her lap, Valeria, then
surrounded by her female companions, spoke in the name of them all:--
"We that now make our appearance, O Volumnia, and you, Vergilia, are
come as mere women to women, not by direction of the senate, or an order
from the consuls, or the appointment of any other magistrate; but the
divine being himself, as I conceive, moved to compassion by prayers,
prompted us to visit you in a body, and request a thing on which our own
and the common safety depends, and which, if you consent to it, will
raise your glory above that of the daughters of the Sabines, who won
over their fathers and their husbands from mortal enmity to peace and
friendship. Arise and come with us to Marcius; join in our
supplication, and bear for your country this true and just testimony on
her behalf: that, notwithstanding the many mischiefs that have
been
done her, yet she has never outraged you, nor so much as thought of
treating you ill, in all her resentment, but does now restore you safe
into his hands, though there be small likelihood she should obtain from
him any equitable terms."
The words of Valeria were seconded by the acclamations of the other
women, to which Volumnia made answer:--
"I and Vergilia, my countrywomen, have an equal share with you all in
the common miseries, and we have the additional sorrow, which is wholly
ours, that we have lost the merit and good fame of Marcius, and see his
person confined, rather than protected, by the arms of the enemy.
Yet I
account this the greatest of all misfortunes, if indeed the affairs of
Rome be sunk to so feeble a state as to have their last dependence upon
us. For it is hardly imaginable he should have any consideration
left
for us, when he has no regard for the country which he was wont to
prefer before his mother and wife and children. Make use,
however, of
our service; and lead us, if you please, to him; we are able, if nothing
more, at least to spend our last breath in making suit to him for our
country."
Having spoken thus, she took Vergilia by the hand, and the young
children, and so accompanied them to the Volscian camp. So lamentable a
sight much affected the enemies themselves, who viewed them in
respectful silence. Marcius was then sitting in his place, with his
chief officers about him, and, seeing the party of women advance toward
them, wondered what should be the matter; but perceiving at length that
his mother was at the head of them, he would fain have hardened himself
in his former inexorable temper, but, overcome by his feelings, and
confounded at what he saw, he did not endure they should approach him
sitting in state, but came down hastily to meet them, saluting his
mother first, and embracing her a long time, and then his wife and
children, sparing neither tears nor caresses, but suffering himself to
be borne away and carried headlong, as it were, by the impetuous
violence of his passion.
When he had satisfied himself, and observed that his mother Volumnia
was desirous to say something, the Volscian council being first called
in, he heard her to the following effect: "Our dress and our very
persons, my son, might tell you, though we should say nothing
ourselves, in how forlorn a condition we have lived at home since your
banishment and absence from us; and now consider with yourself, whether
we may not pass for the most unfortunate of all women, to have that
sight, which should be the sweetest that we could see, converted,
through I know not what fatality, to one of all others the most
formidable and dreadful, -- Volumnia to behold her son, and Vergilia
her husband, in arms against the walls of Rome. Even prayer itself,
whence others gain comfort and relief in all manner of misfortunes, is
that which most adds to our confusion and distress; since our best
wishes are inconsistent with themselves, nor can we at the same time
petition the gods for Rome's victory and your preservation, but what
the worst of our enemies would imprecate as a curse, is the very object
of our vows. Your wife and children are under the sad necessity, that
they must either be deprived of you, or of their native soil. As for
myself, I am resolved not to wait till war shall determine this
alternative for me; but if I cannot prevail with you to prefer amity
and concord to quarrel and hostility, and to be the benefactor to both
parties, rather than the destroyer of one of them, be assured of this
from me, and reckon steadfastly upon it, that you shall not be able to
reach your country, unless you trample first upon the corpse of her
that brought you into life. For it will be ill in me to wait and loiter
in the world till the day come wherein I shall see a child of mine,
either led in triumph by his own countrymen, or triumphing over them.
Did I require you to save your country by ruining the Volscians, then,
I confess, my son, the case would be hard for you to solve. It is base
to bring destitution on our fellow- citizens; it is unjust to betray
those who have placed their confidence in us. But, as it is, we do but
desire a deliverance equally expedient for them and us; only more
glorious and honorable on the Volscian side, who, as superior in arms,
will be thought freely to bestow the two greatest of blessings, peace
and friendship, even when they themselves receive the same. If we
obtain these, the common thanks will be chiefly due to you as the
principal cause; but if they be not granted, you alone must expect to
bear the blame from both nations. The chance of all war is uncertain,
yet thus much is certain in the present, that you, by conquering Rome,
will only get the reputation of having undone your country; but if the
Volscians happen to be defeated under your conduct, then the world will
say, that, to satisfy a revengeful humor, you brought misery on your
friends and patrons."
Marcius listened to his mother while she spoke, without answering her a
word; and Volumnia, seeing him stand mute also for a long time after
she had ceased, resumed: "O my son," said she, "what is the meaning of
this silence? Is it a duty to postpone everything to a sense of
injuries, and wrong to gratify a mother in a request like this? Is it
the characteristic of a great man to remember wrongs that have been
done him, and not the part of a great and good man to remember benefits
such as those that children receive from parents, and to requite them
with honor and respect? You, methinks, who are so relentless in the
punishment of the ungrateful, should not be more careless than others
to be grateful yourself. You have punished your country already; you
have not yet paid your debt to me. Nature and religion, surely,
unattended by any constraint, should have won your consent to petitions
so worthy and so just as these; but if it must be so, I will even use
my last resource." Having said this, she threw herself down at his
feet, as did also his wife and children; upon which Marcius, crying
out, "O mother! what is it you have done to me?" raised her up from the
ground, and pressing her right hand with more than ordinary vehemence,
"You have gained a victory," said he, "fortunate enough for the Romans,
but destructive to your son; whom you, though none else, have
defeated." After which, and a little private conference with his mother
and his wife, he sent them back again to Rome, as they desired of him.
The next morning, he broke up his camp, and led the Volscians homeward,
variously affected with what he had done; some of them complaining of
him and condemning his act, others, who were inclined to a peaceful
conclusion, unfavorable to neither. A third party, while much disliking
his proceedings, yet could not look upon Marcius as a treacherous
person, but thought it pardonable in him to be thus shaken and driven
to surrender at last, under such compulsion. None, however, opposed his
commands; they all obediently followed him, though rather from
admiration of his virtue, than any regard they now had to his
authority. The Roman people, meantime, more effectually manifested how
much fear and danger they had been in while the war lasted, by their
deportment after they were freed from it. Those that guarded the walls
had no sooner given notice that the Volscians were dislodged and drawn
off, but they set open all their temples in a moment, and began to
crown themselves with garlands and prepare for sacrifice, as they were
wont to do upon tidings brought of any signal victory. But the joy and
transport of the whole city was chiefly remarkable in the honors and
marks of affection paid to the women, as well by the senate as the
people in general; every one declaring that they were, beyond all
question, the instruments of the public safety. And the senate having
passed a decree that whatsoever they would ask in the way of any favor
or honor should be allowed and done for them by the magistrates, they
demanded simply that a temple might be erected to Female Fortune, the
expense of which they offered to defray out of their own contributions,
if the city would be at the cost of sacrifices, and other matters
pertaining to the due honor of the gods, out of the common treasury.
The senate, much commending their public spirit, caused the temple to
be built and a statue set up in it at the public charge; they, however,
made up a sum among themselves, for a second image of Fortune, which
the Romans say uttered, as it was putting up, words to this effect,
"Blessed of the gods, O women, is your gift."
These words they profess were repeated a second time, expecting our
belief for what seems pretty nearly an impossibility. It may be
possible enough, that statues may seem to sweat, and to run with tears,
and to stand with certain dewy drops of a sanguine color; for timber
and stones are frequently known to contract a kind of scurf and
rottenness, productive of moisture; and various tints may form on the
surfaces, both from within and from the action of the air outside; and
by these signs it is not absurd to imagine that the deity may forewarn
us. It may happen, also, that images and statues may sometimes make a
noise not unlike that of a moan or groan, through a rupture or violent
internal separation of the parts; but that an articulate voice, and
such express words, and language so clear and exact and elaborate,
should proceed from inanimate things, is, in my judgment, a thing
utterly out of possibility. For it was never known that either the soul
of man, or the deity himself, uttered vocal sounds and language, alone,
without an organized body and members fitted for speech. But where
history seems in a manner to force our assent by the concurrence of
numerous and credible witnesses, we are to conclude that an impression
distinct from sensation affects the imaginative part of our nature, and
then carries away the judgment, so as to believe it to be a sensation:
just as in sleep we fancy we see and hear, without really doing either.
Persons, however, whose strong feelings of reverence to the deity, and
tenderness for religion, will not allow them to deny or invalidate
anything of this kind, have certainly a strong argument for their
faith, in the wonderful and transcendent character of the divine power;
which admits no manner of comparison with ours, either in its nature or
its action, the modes or the strength of its operations. It is no
contradiction to reason that it should do things that we cannot do, and
effect what for us is impracticable: differing from us in all respects,
in its acts yet more than in other points we may well believe it to be
unlike us and remote from us. Knowledge of divine things for the most
part, as Heraclitus says, is lost to us by incredulity.
When Marcius came back to Antium, Tullus, who thoroughly hated and
greatly feared him, proceeded at once to contrive how he might
immediately dispatch him; as, if he escaped now, he was never likely to
give him such another advantage. Having, therefore, got together and
suborned several partisans against him, he required Marcius to resign
his charge, and give the Volscians all account of his administration.
He, apprehending the danger of a private condition, while Tullus held
the office of general and exercised the greatest power among his
fellow- citizens, made answer, that he was ready to lay down his
commission, whenever those from whose common authority he had received
it, should think fit to recall it; and that in the meantime he was
ready to give the Antiates satisfaction, as to all particulars of his
conduct, if they were desirous of it.
An assembly was called, and popular speakers, as had been concerted,
came forward to exasperate and incense the multitude; but when Marcius
stood up to answer, the more unruly and tumultuous part of the people
became quiet on a sudden, and out of reverence allowed him to speak
without the least disturbance; while all the better people, and such as
were satisfied with a peace, made it evident by their whole behavior,
that they would give him a favorable hearing, and judge and pronounce
according to equity.
Tullus, therefore, began to dread the issue of the defense he was going
to make for himself; for he was an admirable speaker, and the former
services he had done the Volscians had procured and still preserved for
him greater kindness than could be outweighed by any blame for his late
conduct. Indeed, the very accusation itself was a proof and testimony
of the greatness of his merits, since people could never have
complained or thought themselves wronged, because Rome was not brought
into their power, but that by his means they had come so near to taking
it. For these reasons, the conspirators judged it prudent not to make
any further delays, nor to test the general feeling; but the boldest of
their faction, crying out that they ought not to listen to a traitor,
nor allow him still to retain office and play the tyrant among them,
fell upon Marcius in a body, and slew him there, none of those that
were present offering to defend him. But it quickly appeared that the
action was in nowise approved by the majority of the Volscians, who
hurried out of their several cities to show respect to his corpse; to
which they gave honorable interment, adorning his sepulchre with arms
and trophies, as the monument of a noble hero and a famous general.
When the Romans heard tidings of his death, they gave no other
signification either of honor or of anger towards him, but simply
granted the request of the women, that they might put themselves into
mourning and bewail him for ten months, as the usage was upon the loss
of a father or a son or a brother; that being the period fixed for the
longest lamentation by the laws of Numa Pompilius, as is more amply
told in the account of him.
Marcius was no sooner deceased, but the Volscians felt the need of his
assistance. They quarreled first with the Aequians, their confederates
and their friends, about the appointment of the general of their joint
forces, and carried their dispute to the length of bloodshed and
slaughter; and were then defeated by the Romans in a pitched battle,
where not only Tullus lost his life, but the principal flower of their
whole army was cut in pieces; so that they were forced to submit and
accept of peace upon very dishonorable terms, becoming subjects of
Rome, and pledging themselves to submission.
COMPARISON OF ALCIBIADES WITH CORIOLANUS
Having described all their actions that seem to deserve commemoration,
their military ones, we may say, incline the balance very decidedly
upon neither side. They both, in pretty equal measure, displayed on
numerous occasions the daring and courage of the soldier, and the skill
and foresight of the general; unless, indeed, the fact that Alcibiades
was victorious and successful in many contests both by sea and land,
ought to gain him the title of a more complete commander. That so long
as they remained and held command in their respective countries, they
eminently sustained, and when they were driven into exile, yet more
eminently damaged the fortunes of those countries, is common to both.
All the sober citizens felt disgust at the petulance, the low flattery,
and base seductions which Alcibiades, in his public life, allowed
himself to employ with the view of winning the people's favor; and the
ungraciousness, pride, and oligarchical haughtiness which Marcius, on
the other hand, displayed in his, were the abhorrence of the Roman
populace. Neither of these courses can be called commendable; but a man
who ingratiates himself by indulgence and flattery, is hardly so
censurable as one who, to avoid the appearance of flattering, insults.
To seek power by servility to the people is a disgrace, but to maintain
it by terror, violence, and oppression, is not a disgrace only, but an
injustice.
Marcius, according to our common conceptions of his character, was
undoubtedly simple and straightforward; Alcibiades, unscrupulous as a
public man, and false. He is more especially blamed for the
dishonorable and treacherous way in which, as Thucydides relates, he
imposed upon the Lacedaemonian ambassadors, and disturbed the
continuance of the peace. Yet this policy, which engaged the city again
in war, nevertheless placed it in a powerful and formidable position,
by the accession, which Alcibiades obtained for it, of the alliance of
Argos and Mantinea. And Coriolanus also, Dionysius relates, used unfair
means to excite war between the Romans and the Volscians, in the false
report which he spread about the visitors at the Games; and the motive
of this action seems to make it the worse of the two; since it was not
done, like the other, out of ordinary political jealousy, strife, and
competition. Simply to gratify anger, from which, as Ion says, no one
ever yet got any return, he threw whole districts of Italy into
confusion, and sacrificed to his passion against his country numerous
innocent cities. It is true, indeed, that Alcibiades also, by his
resentment, was the occasion of great disasters to his country, but he
relented as soon as he found their feelings to be changed; and after he
was driven out a second time, so far from taking pleasure in the errors
and inadvertencies of their commanders, or being indifferent to the
danger they were thus incurring, he did the very thing that Aristides
is so highly commended for doing to Themistocles: he came to the
generals who were his enemies, and pointed out to them what they ought
to do. Coriolanus, on the other hand, first of all attacked the whole
body of his countrymen, though only one portion of them had done him
any wrong, while the other, the better and nobler portion, had actually
suffered, as well as sympathized, with him. And, secondly, by the
obduracy with which he resisted numerous embassies and supplications,
addressed in propitiation of his single anger and offense, he showed
that it had been to destroy and overthrow, not to recover and regain
his country, that he had excited bitter and implacable hostilities
against it. There is, indeed, one distinction that may be drawn.
Alcibiades, it may be said, was not safe among the Spartans, and had
the inducements at once of fear and of hatred to lead him again to
Athens; whereas Marcius could not honorably have left the Volscians,
when they were behaving so well to him: he, in the command of their
forces and the enjoyment of their entire confidence, was in a very
different position from Alcibiades, whom the Lacedaemonians did not so
much wish to adopt into their service, as to use, and then abandon.
Driven about from house to house in the city, and from general to
general in the camp, the latter had no resort but to place himself in
the hands of Tisaphernes; unless, indeed, we are to suppose that his
object in courting favor with him was to avert the entire destruction
of his native city, whither he wished himself to return.
As regards money, Alcibiades, we are told, was often guilty of
procuring it by accepting bribes, and spent it in in luxury and
dissipation. Coriolanus declined to receive it, even when pressed upon
him by his commanders as all honor; and one great reason for the odium
he incurred with the populace in the discussions about their debts was,
that he trampled upon the poor, not for money's sake, but out of pride
and insolence.
Antipater, in a letter written upon the death of Aristotle the
philosopher, observes, "Amongst his other gifts he had that of
persuasiveness;" and the absence of this in the character of Marcius
made all his great actions and noble qualities unacceptable to those
whom they benefited: pride, and self-will, the consort, as Plato calls
it, of solitude, made him insufferable. With the skill which Alcibiades
on the contrary, possessed to treat every one in the way most agreeable
to him, we cannot wonder that all his successes were attended with the
most exuberant favor and honor; his very errors, at times, being
accompanied by something of grace and felicity. And so, in spite of
great and frequent hurt that he had done the city, he was repeatedly
appointed to office and command; while Coriolanus stood in vain for a
place which his great services had made his due. The one, in spite of
the harm he occasioned, could not make himself hated, nor the other,
with all the admiration he attracted, succeed in being beloved by his
countrymen.
Coriolanus, moreover, it should be said, did not as a general obtain
any successes for his country, but only for his enemies against his
country. Alcibiades was often of service to Athens, both as a soldier
and as a commander. So long as he was personally present, he had the
perfect mastery of his political adversaries; calumny only succeeded in
his absence. Coriolanus was condemned in person at Rome; and in like
manner killed by the Volscians, not indeed with any right or justice,
yet not without some pretext occasioned by his own acts; since, after
rejecting all conditions of peace in public, in private he yielded to
the solicitations of the women, and, without establishing peace, threw
up the favorable chances of war. He ought, before retiring, to have
obtained the consent of those who had placed their trust in him; if
indeed he considered their claims on him to be the strongest. Or, if we
say that he did not care about the Volscians, but merely had prosecuted
the war, which he now abandoned, for the satisfaction of his own
resentment, then the noble thing would have been, not to spare his
country for his mother's sake, but his mother in and with his country;
since both his mother and his wife were part and parcel of that
endangered country. After harshly repelling public supplications, the
entreaties of ambassadors, and the prayers of priests, to concede all
as a private favor to his mother was less an honor to her than a
dishonor to the city which thus escaped, in spite, it would seem, of
its own demerits, through the intercession of a single woman. Such a
grace could, indeed, seem merely invidious, ungracious, and
unreasonable in the eyes of both parties; he retreated without
listening to the persuasions of his opponents, or asking the consent of
his friends. The origin of all lay in his unsociable, supercilious, and
self-willed disposition, which, in all cases, is offensive to most
people; and when combined with a passion for distinction passes into
absolute savageness and mercilessness. Men decline to ask favors of the
people, professing not to need any honors from them; and then are
indignant if they do not obtain them. Metellus, Aristides, and
Epaminondas certainly did not beg favors of the multitude; but that was
because they, in real truth, did not value the gifts which a popular
body can either confer or refuse; and when they were more than once
driven into exile, rejected at elections, and condemned in courts of
justice, they showed no resentment at the ill-humor of their
fellow-citizens, but were willing and contented to return and be
reconciled when the feeling altered and they were wished for. He who
least likes courting favor, ought also least to think of resenting
neglect: to feel wounded at being refused a distinction can only arise
from an overweening appetite to have it.
Alcibiades never professed to deny that it was pleasant to him to be
honored, and distasteful to him to be overlooked; and, accordingly, he
always tried to place himself upon good terms with all that he met;
Coriolanus's pride forbade him to pay attentions to those who could
have promoted his advancement, and yet his love of distinction made him
feel hurt and angry when he was disregarded. Such are the faulty parts
of his character, which in all other respects was a noble one. For his
temperance, continence, and probity, he might claim to be compared with
the best and purest of the Greeks; not in any sort or kind with
Alcibiades, the least scrupulous and most entirely careless of human
beings in all these points.
TIMOLEON
It was for the sake of others that I first commenced writing
biographies; but I find myself proceeding and attaching myself to it
for my own; the virtues of these great men serving me as a sort of
looking-glass, in which I may see how to adjust and adorn my own life.
Indeed, it can be compared to nothing but daily living and associating
together; we receive, as it were, in our inquiry, and entertain each
successive guest, view
Their stature and their qualities,
and select from their actions all that is noblest and worthiest to know.
Ah, and what greater pleasure could one have?
or, what more effective means to one's moral improvement? Democritus
tells us we ought to pray that of the phantasms appearing in the
circumambient air, such may present themselves to us as are propitious,
and that we may rather meet with those that are agreeable to our
natures and are good, than the evil and unfortunate; which is simply
introducing into philosophy a doctrine untrue in itself, and leading to
endless superstitions. My method, on the contrary, is, by the study of
history, and by the familiarity acquired in writing, to habituate my
memory to receive and retain images of the best and worthiest
characters. I thus am enabled to free myself from any ignoble, base, or
vicious impressions, contracted from the contagion of ill company that
I may be unavoidably engaged in, by the remedy of turning my thoughts
in a happy and calm temper to view these noble examples. Of this kind
are those of Timoleon the Corinthian, and Paulus Aemilius, to write
whose lives is my present business; men equally famous, not only for
their virtues, but success; insomuch that they have left it doubtful
whether they owe their greatest achievements to good fortune, or their
own prudence and conduct.
The affairs of the Syracusans, before Timoleon was sent into Sicily,
were in this posture: after Dion had driven out Dionysius the tyrant,
he was slain by treachery, and those that had assisted him in
delivering Syracuse were divided among themselves; and thus the city,
by a continual change of governors, and a train of mischiefs that
succeeded each other, became almost abandoned; while of the rest of
Sicily, part was now utterly depopulated and desolate through long
continuance of war, and most of the cities that had been left standing
were in the hands of barbarians and soldiers out of employment, that
were ready to embrace every turn of government. Such being the state of
things, Dionysius takes the opportunity, and in the tenth year of his
banishment, by the help of some mercenary troops he had got together,
forces out Nysaeus, then master of Syracuse, recovers all afresh, and
is again settled in his dominion; and as at first he had been strangely
deprived of the greatest and most absolute power that ever was, by a
very small party, so now in a yet stranger manner; when in exile and of
mean condition, he became the sovereign of those who had ejected him.
All, therefore, that remained in Syracuse, had to serve under a tyrant,
who at the best was of an ungentle nature, and exasperated now to a
degree of savageness by the late misfortunes and calamities he had
suffered. The better and more distinguished citizens, having timely
retired thence to Hicetes, ruler of the Leontines, put themselves under
his protection, and chose him for their general in the war; not that he
was much preferable to any open and avowed tyrant; but they had no
other sanctuary at present, and it gave them some ground of confidence,
that he was of a Syracusan family, and had forces able to encounter
those of Dionysius.
In the meantime, the Carthaginians appeared before Sicily with a great
navy, watching when and where they might make a descent upon the
island; and terror at this fleet made the Sicilians incline to send an
embassy into Greece to demand succors from the Corinthians, whom they
confided in rather than others, not only upon the account of their near
kindred, and the great benefits they had often received by trusting
them, but because Corinth had ever shown herself attached to freedom
and averse from tyranny, and had engaged in many noble wars, not for
empire or aggrandizement, but for the sole liberty of the Greeks. But
Hicetes, who made it the business of his command not so much to deliver
the Syracusans from other tyrants, as to enslave them to himself, had
already entered into some secret conferences with those of Carthage,
while in public he commended the design of his Syracusan clients, and
dispatched ambassadors from himself, together with theirs, into
Peloponnesus; not that he really desired any relief to come from there,
but, in case the Corinthians, as was likely enough, on account of the
troubles of Greece and occupation at home, should refuse their
assistance, hoping then he should be able with less difficulty to
dispose and incline things for the Carthaginian interest, and so make
use of these foreign pretenders, as instruments and auxiliaries for
himself, either against the Syracusans or Dionysius, as occasion
served. This was discovered a while after.
The ambassadors being arrived, and their request known, the
Corinthians, who had always a great concern for all their colonies and
plantations, but especially for Syracuse, since by good fortune there
was nothing to molest them in their own country, where they were
enjoying peace and leisure at that time, readily and with one accord
passed a vote for their assistance. And when they were deliberating
about the choice of a captain for the expedition, and the magistrates
were urging the claims of various aspirants for reputation, one of the
crowd stood up and named Timoleon, son of Timodemus, who had long
absented himself from public business, and had neither any thoughts of,
nor the least pretension to, an employment of that nature. Some god or
other, it might rather seem, had put it in the man's heart to mention
him; such favor and good-will on the part of Fortune seemed at once to
be shown in his election, and to accompany all his following actions,
as though it were on purpose to commend his worth, and add grace and
ornament to his personal virtues. As regards his parentage, both
Timodemus his father, and his mother Demariste, were of high rank in
the city; and as for himself, he was noted for his love of his country,
and his gentleness of temper, except in his extreme hatred to tyrants
and wicked men. His natural abilities for war were so happily tempered,
that while a rare prudence might be seen in all the enterprises of his
younger years, an equal courage showed itself in the last exploits of
his declining age. He had an elder brother, whose name was Timophanes,
who was every way unlike him, being indiscreet and rash, and infected
by the suggestions of some friends and foreign soldiers, whom he kept
always about him, with a passion for absolute power. He seemed to have
a certain force and vehemence in all military service, and even to
delight in dangers, and thus he took much with the people, and was
advanced to the highest charges, as a vigorous and effective warrior;
in the obtaining of which offices and promotions, Timoleon much
assisted him, helping to conceal or at least to extenuate his errors,
embellishing by his praise whatever was commendable in him, and setting
off his good qualities to the best advantage.
It happened once in the battle fought by the Corinthians against the
forces of Argos and Cleonae, that Timoleon served among the infantry,
when Timophanes, commanding their cavalry, was brought into extreme
danger; as his horse being wounded fell forward, and threw him headlong
amidst the enemies, while part of his companions dispersed at once in a
panic, and the small number that remained, bearing up against a great
multitude, had much ado to maintain any resistance. As soon, therefore,
as Timoleon was aware of the accident, he ran hastily in to his
brother's rescue, and covering the fallen Timophanes with his buckler,
after having received abundance of darts, and several strokes by the
sword upon his body and his armor, he at length with much difficulty
obliged the enemies to retire, and brought off his brother alive and
safe. But when the Corinthians, for fear of losing their city a second
time, as they had once before, by admitting their allies, made a decree
to maintain four hundred mercenaries for its security, and gave
Timophanes the command over them, he, abandoning all regard to honor
and equity, at once proceeded to put into execution his plans for
making himself absolute, and bringing the place under his own power;
and having cut off many principal citizens, uncondemned and without
trial, who were most likely to hinder his design, he declared himself
tyrant of Corinth; a procedure that infinitely afflicted Timoleon, to
whom the wickedness of such a brother appeared to be his own reproach
and calamity. He undertook to persuade him by reasoning, that,
desisting from that wild and unhappy ambition, he would bethink himself
how he should make the Corinthians some amends, and find out an
expedient to remedy and correct the evils he had done them. When his
single admonition was rejected and contemned by him, he makes a second
attempt, taking with him Aeschylus his kinsman, brother to the wife of
Timophanes, and a certain diviner, that was his friend, whom Theopompus
in his history calls Satyrus, but Ephorus and Timaeus mention in theirs
by the name of Orthagoras. After a few days, then, he returns to his
brother with this company, all three of them surrounding and earnestly
importuning him upon the same subject, that now at length he would
listen to reason, and be of another mind. But when Timophanes began
first to laugh at the men's simplicity, and presently broke out into
rage and indignation against them, Timoleon stepped aside from him and
stood weeping with his face covered, while the other two, drawing out
their swords, dispatched him in a moment.
On the rumor of this act being soon scattered about, the better and
more generous of the Corinthians highly applauded Timoleon for the
hatred of wrong and the greatness of soul that had made him, though of
a gentle disposition and full of love and kindness for his family,
think the obligations to his country stronger than the ties of
consanguinity, and prefer that which is good and just before gain and
interest and his own particular advantage. For the same brother, who
with so much bravery had been saved by him when he fought valiantly in
the cause of Corinth, he had now as nobly sacrificed for enslaving her
afterward by a base and treacherous usurpation. But then, on the other
side, those that knew not how to live in a democracy, and had been used
to make their humble court to the men of power, though they openly
professed to rejoice at the death of the tyrant, nevertheless, secretly
reviling Timoleon, as one that had committed an impious and abominable
act, drove him into melancholy and dejection. And when he came to
understand how heavily his mother took it, and that she likewise
uttered the saddest complaints and most terrible imprecations against
him, he went to satisfy and comfort her as to what had happened; and
finding that she would not endure so much as to look upon him, but
caused her doors to be shut, that he might have no admission into her
presence, with grief at this he grew so disordered in his mind and so
disconsolate, that he determined to put an end to his perplexity with
his life, by abstaining from all manner of sustenance. But through the
care and diligence of his friends, who were very instant with him, and
added force to their entreaties, he came to resolve and promise at
last, that he would endure living, provided it might be in solitude,
and remote from company; so that, quitting all civil transactions and
commerce with the world, for a long while after his first retirement he
never came into Corinth, but wandered up and down the fields, full of
anxious and tormenting thoughts, and spent his time in desert places,
at the farthest distance from society and human intercourse. So true it
is that the minds of men are easily shaken and carried off from their
own sentiments through the casual commendation or reproof of others,
unless the judgments that we make, and the purposes we conceive, be
confirmed by reason and philosophy, and thus obtain strength and
steadiness. An action must not only be just and laudable in its own
nature, but it must proceed likewise from solid motives and a lasting
principle, that so we may fully and constantly approve the thing, and
be perfectly satisfied in what we do; for otherwise, after having put
our resolution into practice, we shall out of pure weakness come to be
troubled at the performance, when the grace and goodliness, which
rendered it before so amiable and pleasing to us, begin to decay and
wear out of our fancy; like greedy people, who, seizing on the more
delicious morsels of any dish with a keen appetite, are presently
disgusted when they grow full, and find themselves oppressed and uneasy
now by what they before so greedily desired. For a succeeding dislike
spoils the best of actions, and repentance makes that which was never
so well done, become base and faulty; whereas the choice that is
founded upon knowledge and wise reasoning, does not change by
disappointment, or suffer us to repent, though it happen perchance to
be less prosperous in the issue. And thus Phocion, of Athens, having
always vigorously opposed the measures of Leosthenes, when success
appeared to attend them, and he saw his countrymen rejoicing and
offering sacrifice in honor of their victory, "I should have been as
glad," said he to them, "that I myself had been the author of what
Leosthenes has achieved for you, as I am that I gave you my own counsel
against it." A more vehement reply is recorded to have been made by
Aristides the Locrian, one of Plato's companions, to Dionysius the
elder, who demanded one of his daughters in marriage: "I had rather,"
said he to him, "see the virgin in her grave, than in the palace of a
tyrant." And when Dionysius, enraged at the affront, made his sons be
put to death a while after, and then again insultingly asked, whether
he were still in the same mind as to the disposal of his daughters, his
answer was, "I cannot but grieve at the cruelty of your deeds, but am
not sorry for the freedom of my own words." Such expressions as these
may belong perhaps to a more sublime and accomplished virtue.
The grief, however, of Timoleon at what had been done, whether it arose
from commiseration of his brother's fate, or the reverence he bore his
mother, so shattered and broke his spirits, that for the space of
almost twenty years, he had not offered to concern himself in any
honorable or public action. When, therefore, he was pitched upon for a
general, and joyfully accepted as such by the suffrages of the people,
Teleclides, who was at that time the most powerful and distinguished
man in Corinth, began to exhort him that he would act now like a man of
worth and gallantry: "For," said he, "if you do bravely in this
service, we shall believe that you delivered us from a tyrant; but if
otherwise, that you killed your brother." While he was yet preparing to
set sail, and enlisting soldiers to embark with him, there came letters
to the Corinthians from Hicetes, plainly disclosing his revolt and
treachery. For his ambassadors were no sooner gone for Corinth, but he
openly joined the Carthaginians, negotiating that they might assist him
to throw out Dionysius, and become master of Syracuse in his room. And
fearing he might be disappointed of his aim, if troops and a commander
should come from Corinth before this were effected, he sent a letter of
advice thither, in all haste, to prevent their setting out, telling
them they need not be at any cost and trouble upon his account, or run
the hazard of a Sicilian voyage, especially since the Carthaginians,
alliance with whom against Dionysius the slowness of their motions had
compelled him to embrace, would dispute their passage, and lay in wait
to attack them with a numerous fleet. This letter being publicly read,
if any had been cold and indifferent before as to the expedition in
hand, the indignation they now conceived against Hicetes so exasperated
and inflamed them all, that they willingly contributed to supply
Timoleon, and endeavored, with one accord, to hasten his departure.
When the vessels were equipped, and his soldiers every way provided
for, the female priests of Proserpina had a dream or vision, wherein
she and her mother Ceres appeared to them in a traveling garb, and were
heard to say that they were going to sail with Timoleon into Sicily;
whereupon the Corinthians, having built a sacred galley, devoted it to
them, and called it the galley of the goddesses. Timoleon went in
person to Delphi, where he sacrificed to Apollo, and, descending into
the place of prophecy, was surprised with the following marvelous
occurrence. A riband with crowns and figures of victory embroidered
upon it, slipped off from among the gifts that were there consecrated
and hung up in the temple, and fell directly down upon his head; so
that Apollo seemed already to crown him with success, and send him
thence to conquer and triumph. He put to sea only with seven ships of
Corinth, two of Corcyra, and a tenth which was furnished by the
Leucadians; and when he was now entered into the deep by night, and
carried with a prosperous gale, the heaven seemed all on a sudden to
break open, and a bright spreading flame to issue forth from it, and
hover over the ship he was in; and, having formed itself into a torch,
not unlike those that are used in the mysteries, it began to steer the
same course, and run along in their company, guiding them by its light
to that quarter of Italy where they designed to go ashore. The
soothsayers affirmed, that this apparition agreed with the dream of the
holy women, since the goddesses were now visibly joining in the
expedition, and sending this light from heaven before them: Sicily
being thought sacred to Proserpina, as poets feign that the rape was
committed there, and that the island was given her in dowry when she
married Pluto.
These early demonstrations of divine favor greatly encouraged his whole
army; so that, making all the speed they were able, by a voyage across
the open sea, they were soon passing along the coast of Italy. But the
tidings that came from Sicily much perplexed Timoleon, and disheartened
his soldiers. For Hicetes, having already beaten Dionysius out of the
field, and reduced most of the quarters of Syracuse itself, now hemmed
him in and besieged him in the citadel and what is called the Island,
whither he was fled for his last refuge; while the Carthaginians, by
agreement, were to make it their business to hinder Timoleon from
landing in any port of Sicily; so that he and his party being driven
back, they might with ease and at their own leisure divide the island
among themselves. In pursuance of which design, the Carthaginians sent
away twenty of their galleys to Rhegium, having aboard them certain
ambassadors from Hicetes to Timoleon, who carried instructions suitable
to these proceedings, specious amusements and plausible stories, to
color and conceal dishonest purposes. They had order to propose and
demand that Timoleon himself, if he liked the offer, should come to
advise with Hicetes, and partake of all his conquests, but that he
might send back his ships and forces to Corinth, since the war was in a
manner finished, and the Carthaginians had blocked up the passage,
determined to oppose them if they should try to force their way towards
the shore. When, therefore, the Corinthians met with these envoys at
Rhegium, and received their message, and saw the Phoenician vessels
riding at anchor in the bay, they became keenly sensible of the abuse
that was put upon them, and felt a general indignation against Hicetes,
and great apprehensions for the Siceliots, whom they now plainly
perceived to be as it were a prize and recompense to Hicetes on one
side for his perfidy, and to the Carthaginians on the other for the
sovereign power they secured to him. For it seemed utterly impossible
to force and overbear the Carthaginian ships that lay before them and
were double their number, as also to vanquish the victorious troops
which Hicetes had with him in Syracuse, to take the lead of which very
troops they had undertaken their voyage.
The case being thus, Timoleon, after some conference with the envoys of
Hicetes and the Carthaginian captains, told them he should readily
submit to their proposals (to what purpose would it be to refuse
compliance?): he was desirous only, before his return to Corinth, that
what had passed between them in private might be solemnly declared
before the people of Rhegium, a Greek city, and a common friend to the
parties; this, he said, would very much conduce to his own security and
discharge; and they likewise would more strictly observe articles of
agreement, on behalf of the Syracusans, which they had obliged
themselves to in the presence of so many witnesses. The design of all
which was, only to divert their attention, while he got an opportunity
of slipping away from their fleet: a contrivance that all the principal
Rhegians were privy and assisting to, who had a great desire that the
affairs of Sicily should fall into Corinthian hands, and dreaded the
consequences of having barbarian neighbors. An assembly was therefore
called, and the gates shut, that the citizens might have no liberty to
turn to other business; and a succession of speakers came forward,
addressing the people at great length, to the same effect, without
bringing the subject to any conclusion, making way each for another and
purposely spinning out the time, till the Corinthian galleys should get
clear of the haven; the Carthaginian commanders being detained there
without any suspicion, as also Timoleon still remained present, and
gave signs as if he were just preparing to make an oration. But upon
secret notice that the rest of the galleys were already gone on, and
that his alone remained waiting for him, by the help and concealment of
those Rhegians that were about the hustings and favored his departure,
he made shift to slip away through the crowd, and, running down to the
port, set sail with all speed; and having reached his other vessels,
they came all safe to Tauromenium in Sicily, whither they had been
formerly invited, and where they were now kindly received by
Andromachus, then ruler of the city. This man was father of Timaeus the
historian, and incomparably the best of all those that bore sway in
Sicily at that time, governing his citizens according to law and
justice, and openly professing an aversion and enmity to all tyrants;
upon which account he gave Timoleon leave to muster up his troops
there, and to make that city the seat of war, persuading the
inhabitants to join their arms with the Corinthian forces, and assist
them in the design of delivering Sicily.
But the Carthaginians who were left in Rhegium perceiving, when the
assembly was dissolved, that Timoleon had given them the go by, were
not a little vexed to see themselves outwitted, much to the amusement
of the Rhegians, who could not but smile to find Phoenicians complain
of being cheated. However, they dispatched a messenger aboard one of
their galleys to Tauromenium, who, after much blustering in the
insolent barbaric way, and many menaces to Andromachus if he did not
forthwith send the Corinthians off, stretched out his hand with the
inside upward, and then turning it down again, threatened he would
handle their city even so, and turn it topsy-turvy in as little time,
and with as much ease. Andromachus, laughing at the man's confidence,
made no other reply, but, imitating his gesture, bid him hasten his own
departure, unless he had a mind to see that kind of dexterity practiced
first upon the galley which brought him thither.
Hicetes, informed that Timoleon had made good his passage, was in great
fear of what might follow, and sent to desire the Carthaginians that a
large number of galleys might be ordered to attend and secure the
coast. And now it was that the Syracusans began wholly to despair of
safety, seeing the Carthaginians possessed of their haven, Hicetes
master of the town, and Dionysius supreme in the citadel; while
Timoleon had as yet but a slender hold of Sicily, as it were by the
fringe or border of it, in the small city of the Tauromenians, with a
feeble hope and a poor company; having but a thousand soldiers at the
most, and no more provisions, either of corn or money, than were just
necessary for the maintenance and the pay of that inconsiderable
number. Nor did the other towns of Sicily confide in him, overpowered
as they were with violence and outrage, and embittered against all that
should offer to lead armies, by the treacherous conduct chiefly of
Callippus, an Athenian, and Pharax, a Lacedaemonian captain, both of
whom, after giving out that the design of their coming was to introduce
liberty and depose tyrants, so tyrannized themselves, that the reign of
former oppressors seemed to be a golden age in comparison, and the
Sicilians began to consider those more happy who had expired in
servitude, than any that had lived to see such a dismal freedom.
Looking, therefore, for no better usage from the Corinthian general,
but imagining that it was only the same old course of things once more,
specious presences and false professions to allure them by fair hopes
and kind promises into the obedience of a new master, they all, with
one accord, unless it were the people of Adranum, suspected the
exhortations, and rejected the overtures that were made them in his
name. These were inhabitants of a small city, consecrated to Adranus, a
certain god that was in high veneration throughout Sicily, and, as it
happened, they were then at variance among themselves, insomuch that
one party called in Hicetes and the Carthaginians to assist them, while
the other sent proposals to Timoleon. It so fell out that these
auxiliaries, striving which should be soonest, both arrived at Adranum
about the same time; Hicetes bringing with him at least five thousand
fighting men, while all the force Timoleon could make did not exceed
twelve hundred. With these he marched out of Tauromenium, which was
about three hundred and forty furlongs distant from that city. The
first day he moved but slowly, and took up his quarters betimes after a
short journey; but the day following he quickened his pace, and, having
passed through much difficult ground, towards evening received advice
that Hicetes was just approaching Adranum, and pitching his camp before
it; upon which intelligence, his captains and other officers caused the
vanguard to halt, that the army being refreshed, and having reposed a
while, might engage the enemy with better heart. But Timoleon, coming
up in haste, desired them not to stop for that reason, but rather use
all possible diligence to surprise the enemy, whom probably they would
now find in disorder, as having lately ended their march, and being
taken up at present in erecting tents and preparing supper; which he
had no sooner said, but laying hold of his buckler and putting himself
in the front, he led them on as it were to certain victory. The
braveness of such a leader made them all follow him with like courage
and assurance. They were now within less than thirty furlongs of
Adranum, which they quickly traversed, and immediately fell in upon the
enemy, who were seized with confusion, and began to retire at their
first approaches; one consequence of which was that amidst so little
opposition, and so early and general a flight, there were not many more
than three hundred slain, and about twice the number made prisoners.
Their camp and baggage, however, was all taken. The fortune of this
onset soon induced the Adranitans to unlock their gates, and embrace
the interest of Timoleon, to whom they recounted, with a mixture of
affright and admiration, how, at the very minute of the encounter, the
doors of their temple flew open of their own accord, that the javelin
also, which their god held in his hand, was observed to tremble at the
point, and that drops of sweat had been seen running down his face:
prodigies that not only presaged the victory then obtained, but were an
omen, it seems, of all his future exploits, to which this first happy
action gave the occasion.
For now the neighboring cities and potentates sent deputies, one upon
another, to seek his friendship and make offer of their service. Among
the rest, Mamercus, the tyrant of Catana, an experienced warrior and a
wealthy prince, made proposals of alliance with him, and, what was of
greater importance still, Dionysius himself being now grown desperate,
and wellnigh forced to surrender, despising Hicetes who had been thus
shamefully baffled, and admiring the valor of Timoleon, found means to
advertise him and his Corinthians that he should be content to deliver
up himself and the citadel into their hands. Timoleon, gladly embracing
this unlooked for advantage, sends away Euclides and Telemachus, two
Corinthian captains, with four hundred men, for the seizure and custody
of the castle, with directions to enter not all at once, or in open
view, that being impracticable so long as the enemy kept guard, but by
stealth, and in small companies. And so they took possession of the
fortress, and the palace of Dionysius, with all the stores and
ammunition he had prepared and laid up to maintain the war. They found
a good number of horses, every variety of engines, a multitude of
darts, and weapons to arm seventy thousand men (a magazine that had
been formed from ancient time), besides two thousand soldiers that were
then with him, whom he gave up with the rest for Timoleon's service.
Dionysius himself, putting his treasure aboard, and taking a few
friends, sailed away unobserved by Hicetes, and being brought to the
camp of Timoleon, there first appeared in the humble dress of a private
person, and was shortly after sent to Corinth with a single ship and a
small sum of money. Born and educated in the most splendid court and
the most absolute monarchy that ever was, which he held and kept up for
the space of ten years succeeding his father's death, he had, after
Dion's expedition, spent twelve other years in a continual agitation of
wars and contests, and great variety of fortune, during which time all
the mischiefs he had committed in his former reign were more than
repaid by the ills he himself then suffered; since he lived to see the
deaths of his sons in the prime and vigor of their age, and the rape of
his daughters in the flower of their virginity, and the wicked abuse of
his sister and his wife, who, after being first exposed to all the
lawless insults of the soldiery, was then murdered with her children,
and cast into the sea; the particulars of which are more exactly given
in the life of Dion.
Upon the news of his landing at Corinth, there was hardly a man in
Greece who had not the curiosity to come and view the late formidable
tyrant, and say some words to him; part, rejoicing at his disasters,
were led thither out of mere spite and hatred, that they might have the
pleasure of trampling, as it were, on the ruins of his broken fortune;
but others, letting their attention and their sympathy turn rather to
the changes and revolutions of his life, could not but see in them a
proof of the strength and potency with which divine and unseen causes
operate amidst the weakness of human and visible things. For neither
art nor nature did in that age produce anything comparable to this work
and wonder of fortune, which showed the very same man, that was not
long before supreme monarch of Sicily, loitering about perhaps in the
fish-market, or sitting in a perfumer's shop, drinking the diluted wine
of taverns, or squabbling in the street with common women, or
pretending to instruct the singing women of the theater, and seriously
disputing with them about the measure and harmony of pieces of music
that were performed there. Such behavior on his part was variously
criticized. He was thought by many to act thus out of pure compliance
with his own natural indolent and vicious inclinations; while finer
judges were of opinion, that in all this he was playing a politic part,
with a design to be contemned among them, and that the Corinthians
might not feel any apprehension or suspicion of his being uneasy under
his reverse of fortune, or solicitous to retrieve it; to avoid which
dangers, he purposely and against his true nature affected an
appearance of folly and want of spirit in his private life and
amusements.
However it be, there are sayings and repartees of his left still upon
record, which seem to show that he not ignobly accommodated himself to
his present circumstances; as may appear in part from the ingenuousness
of the avowal he made on coming to Leucadia, which, as well as
Syracuse, was a Corinthian colony, where he told the inhabitants, that
he found himself not unlike boys who have been in fault, who can talk
cheerfully with their brothers, but are ashamed to see their father;
so, likewise, he, he said, could gladly reside with them in that
island, whereas he felt a certain awe upon his mind, which made him
averse to the sight of Corinth, that was a common mother to them both.
The thing is further evident from the reply he once made to a stranger
in Corinth, who deriding him in a rude and scornful manner about the
conferences he used to have with philosophers, whose company had been
one of his pleasures while yet a monarch, and demanding, in fine, what
he was the better now for all those wise and learned discourses of
Plato, "Do you think," said he, "I have made no profit of his
philosophy, when you see me bear my change of fortune as I do?" And
when Aristoxenus the musician, and several others, desired to know how
Plato offended him, and what had been the ground of his displeasure
with him, he made answer, that, of the many evils attaching to the
condition of sovereignty, the one greatest infelicity was that none of
those who were accounted friends would venture to speak freely, or tell
the plain truth; and that by means of such he had been deprived of
Plato's kindness. At another time, when one of those pleasant
companions that are desirous to pass for wits, in mockery to Dionysius,
as if he were still the tyrant, shook out the folds of his cloak, as he
was entering into the room where he was, to show there were no
concealed weapons about him, Dionysius, by way of retort, observed,
that he would prefer he would do so on leaving the room, as a security
that he was carrying nothing off with him. And when Philip of Macedon,
at a drinking party, began to speak in banter about the verses and
tragedies which his father, Dionysius the elder, had left behind him,
and pretended to wonder how he could get any time from his other
business to compose such elaborate and ingenious pieces, he replied,
very much to the purpose, "It was at those leisurable hours, which such
as you and I, and those we call happy men, bestow upon our cups." Plato
had not the opportunity to see Dionysius at Corinth, being already dead
before he came thither; but Diogenes of Sinope, at their first meeting
in the street there, saluted him with the ambiguous expression, "O
Dionysius, how little you deserve your present life!" Upon which
Dionysius stopped and replied, "I thank you, Diogenes, for your
condolence." "Condole with you!" replied Diogenes; "do you not suppose
that, on the contrary, I am indignant that such a slave as you, who, if
you had your due, should have been let alone to grow old, and die in
the state of tyranny, as your father did before you, should now enjoy
the ease of private persons, and be here to sport and frolic it in our
society?" So that when I compare those sad stories of Philistus,
touching the daughters of Leptines, where he makes pitiful moan on
their behalf, as fallen from all the blessings and advantages of
powerful greatness to the miseries of a humble life, they seem to me
like the lamentations of a woman who has lost her box of ointment, her
purple dresses, and her golden trinkets. Such anecdotes will not, I
conceive, be thought either foreign to my purpose of writing Lives, or
unprofitable in themselves, by such readers as are not in too much
haste, or busied and taken up with other concerns.
But if the misfortune of Dionysius appear strange and extraordinary, we
shall have no less reason to wonder at the good fortune of Timoleon,
who, within fifty days after his landing in Sicily, both recovered the
citadel of Syracuse, and sent Dionysius an exile into Peloponnesus.
This lucky beginning so animated the Corinthians, that they ordered him
a supply of two thousand foot and two hundred horse, who, reaching
Thurii, intended to cross over thence into Sicily; but finding the
whole sea beset with Carthaginian ships, which made their passage
impracticable, they were constrained to stop there, and watch their
opportunity: which time, however, was employed in a noble action. For
the Thurians, going out to war against their Bruttian enemies, left
their city in charge with these Corinthian strangers, who defended it
as carefully as if it had been their own country, and faithfully
resigned it up again.
Hicetes, in the interim, continued still to besiege the castle of
Syracuse, and hindered all provisions from coming in by sea to relieve
the Corinthians that were in it. He had engaged also, and dispatched
towards Adranum, two unknown foreigners to assassinate Timoleon, who at
no time kept any standing guard about his person, and was then
altogether secure, diverting himself, without any apprehension, among
the citizens of the place, it being a festival in honor of their gods.
The two men that were sent, having casually heard that Timoleon was
about to sacrifice, came directly into the temple with poniards under
their cloaks, and pressing in among the crowd, by little and little got
up close to the altar; but, as they were just looking for a sign from
each other to begin the attempt, a third person struck one of them over
the head with a sword, upon whose sudden fall, neither he that gave the
blow, nor the partisan of him that received it, kept their stations any
longer; but the one, making way with his bloody sword, put no stop to
his flight, till he gained the top of a certain lofty precipice, while
the other, laying hold of the altar, besought Timoleon to spare his
life, and he would reveal to him the whole conspiracy. His pardon being
granted, he confessed that both himself and his dead companion were
sent thither purposely to slay him. While this discovery was made, he
that killed the other conspirator had been fetched down from his
sanctuary of the rock, loudly and often protesting, as he came along,
that there was no injustice in the fact, as he had only taken righteous
vengeance for his father's blood, whom this man had murdered before in
the city of Leontini; the truth of which was attested by several there
present, who could not choose but wonder too at the strange dexterity
of fortune's operations, the facility with which she makes one event
the spring and motion to something wholly different, uniting every
scattered accident and lose particular and remote action, and
interweaving them together to serve her purposes; so that things that
in themselves seem to have no connection or interdependence whatsoever,
become in her hands, so to say, the end and the beginning of each
other. The Corinthians, satisfied as to the innocence of this
seasonable feat, honored and rewarded the author with a present of ten
pounds in their money, since he had, as it were, lent the use of his
just resentment to the tutelar genius that seemed to be protecting
Timoleon, and had not preexpended this anger, so long ago conceived,
but had reserved and deferred, under fortune's guidance, for his
preservation, the revenge of a private quarrel.
But this fortunate escape had effects and consequences beyond the
present, as it inspired the highest hopes and future expectations of
Timoleon, making people reverence and protect him as a sacred person
sent by heaven to avenge and redeem Sicily. Hicetes, having missed his
aim in this enterprise, and perceiving, also, that many went off and
sided with Timoleon, began to chide himself for his foolish modesty,
that, when so considerable a force of the Carthaginians lay ready to be
commanded by him, he had employed them hitherto by degrees and in small
numbers, introducing their reinforcements by stealth and clandestinely,
as if he had been ashamed of the action. Therefore, now laying aside
his former nicety, he calls in Mago, their admiral, with his whole
navy, who presently set sail, and seized upon the port with a
formidable fleet of at least a hundred and fifty vessels, landing there
sixty thousand foot which were all lodged within the city of Syracuse;
so that, in all men's opinion, the time anciently talked of and long
expected, wherein Sicily should be subjugated by barbarians, was now
come to its fatal period. For in all their preceding wars and many
desperate conflicts with Sicily, the Carthaginians had never been able,
before this, to take Syracuse; whereas Hicetes now receiving them, and
putting the city into their hands, you might see it become now as it
were a camp of barbarians. By this means, the Corinthian soldiers that
kept the castle found themselves brought into great danger and
hardship; as, besides that their provision grew scarce, and they began
to be in want, because the havens were strictly guarded and blocked up,
the enemy exercised them still with skirmishes and combats about their
walls, and they were not only obliged to be continually in arms, but to
divide and prepare themselves for assaults and encounters of every
kind, and to repel every variety of the means of offense employed by a
besieging army.
Timoleon made shift to relieve them in these straits, sending corn from
Catana by small fishing-boats and little skiffs, which commonly gained
a passage through the Carthaginian galleys in times of storm, stealing
up when the blockading ships were driven apart and dispersed by the
stress of weather; which Mago and Hicetes observing, they agreed to
fall upon Catana, from whence these supplies were brought in to the
besieged, and accordingly put off from Syracuse, taking with them the
best soldiers in their whole army. Upon this, Neon the Corinthian, who
was captain of those that kept the citadel, taking notice that the
enemies who stayed there behind were very negligent and careless in
keeping guard, made a sudden sally upon them as they lay scattered,
and, killing some and putting others to flight, he took and possessed
himself of that quarter which they call Acradina, and was thought to be
the strongest and most impregnable part of Syracuse, a city made up and
compacted as it were, of several towns put together. Having thus stored
himself with corn and money, he did not abandon the place, nor retire
again into the castle, but fortifying the precincts of Acradina, and
joining it by works to the citadel, he undertook the defense of both.
Mago and Hicetes were now come near to Catana, when a horseman,
dispatched from Syracuse, brought them tidings that Acradina was taken;
upon which they returned, in all haste, with great disorder and
confusion, having neither been able to reduce the city they went
against, nor to preserve that they were masters of.
These successes, indeed, were such as might leave foresight and courage
a pretence still of disputing it with fortune, which contributed most
to the result. But the next following event can scarcely be ascribed to
anything but pure felicity. The Corinthian soldiers who stayed at
Thurii, partly for fear of the Carthaginian galleys which lay in wait
for them under the command of Hanno, and partly because of tempestuous
weather which had lasted for many days, and rendered the sea dangerous,
took a resolution to march by land over the Bruttian territories, and,
what with persuasion and force together, made good their passage
through those barbarians to the city of Rhegium, the sea being still
rough and raging as before. But Hanno, not expecting the Corinthians
would venture out, and supposing it would be useless to wait there any
longer, bethought himself, as he imagined, of a most ingenious and
clever stratagem apt to delude and ensnare the enemy; in pursuance of
which he commanded the seamen to crown themselves with garlands, and,
adorning his galleys with bucklers both of the Greek and Carthaginian
make, he sailed away for Syracuse in this triumphant equipage, and
using all his oars as he passed under the castle with much shouting and
laughter, cried out, on purpose to dishearten the besieged, that he was
come from vanquishing and taking the Corinthian succors, which he fell
upon at sea as they were passing over into Sicily. While he was thus
biding and playing his tricks before Syracuse, the Corinthians, now
come as far as Rhegium, observing the coast clear, and that the wind
was laid as it were by miracle, to afford them in all appearance a
quiet and smooth passage, went immediately aboard on such little barks
and fishing-boats as were then at hand, and got over to Sicily with
such complete safety and in such an extraordinary calm, that they drew
their horses by the reins, swimming along by them as the vessels went
across.
When they were all landed, Timoleon came to receive them, and by their
means at once obtained possession of Messena, from whence he marched in
good order to Syracuse, trusting more to his late prosperous
achievements than his present strength, as the whole army he had then
with him did not exceed the number of four thousand; Mago, however, was
troubled and fearful at the first notice of his coming, and grew more
apprehensive and jealous still upon the following occasion. The marshes
about Syracuse, that receive a great deal of fresh water, as well from
springs as from lakes and rivers discharging themselves into the sea,
breed abundance of eels, which may be always taken there in great
quantities by any that will fish for them. The mercenary soldiers that
served on both sides, were wont to follow the sport together at their
vacant hours, and upon any cessation of arms, who being all Greeks, and
having no cause of private enmity to each other, as they would venture
bravely in fight, so in times of truce used to meet and converse
amicably together. And at this present time, while engaged about this
common business of fishing, they fell into talk together; and some
expressing their admiration of the neighboring sea, and others telling
how much they were taken with the convenience and commodiousness of the
buildings and public works, one of the Corinthian party took occasion
to demand of the others: "And is it possible that you who are Grecians
born, should be so forward to reduce a city of this greatness, and
enjoying so many rare advantages, into the state of barbarism; and lend
your assistance to plant Carthaginians, that are the worst and
bloodiest of men, so much the nearer to us? whereas you should rather
wish there were many more Sicilies to lie between them and Greece. Have
you so little sense as to believe, that they come hither with an army,
from the Pillars of Hercules and the Atlantic Sea, to hazard themselves
for the establishment of Hicetes? who, if he had had the consideration
which becomes a general, would never have thrown out his ancestors and
founders to bring in the enemies of his country in the room of them,
when he might have enjoyed all suitable honor and command, with consent
of Timoleon and the rest of Corinth." The Greeks that were in pay with
Hicetes, noising these discourses about their camp, gave Mago some
ground to suspect, as indeed he had long sought for a pretence to be
gone, that there was treachery contrived against him; so that, although
Hicetes entreated him to tarry, and made it appear how much stronger
they were than the enemy, yet, conceiving they came far more short of
Timoleon in respect of courage and fortune, than they surpassed him in
number, he presently went aboard, and set sail for Africa, letting
Sicily escape out of his hands with dishonor to himself, and for such
uncertain causes, that no human reason could give an account of his
departure.
The day after he went away, Timoleon came up before the city, in array
for a battle. But when he and his company heard of this sudden flight,
and saw the docks all empty, they could not forbear laughing at the
cowardice of Mago, and in mockery caused proclamation to be made
through the city, that a reward would be given to any one who could
bring them tidings whither the Carthaginian fleet had conveyed itself
from them. However, Hicetes resolving to fight it out alone, and not
quitting his hold of the city, but sticking close to the quarters he
was in possession of, places that were well fortified and not easy to
be attacked, Timoleon divided his forces into three parts, and fell
himself upon the side where the river Anapus ran, which was most strong
and difficult of access; and he commanded those that were led by Isias,
a Corinthian captain, to make their assault from the post of Acradina,
while Dinarchus and Demaretus, that brought him the last supply from
Corinth, were, with a third division, to attempt the quarter called
Epipolae. A considerable impression being made from every side at once,
the soldiers of Hicetes were beaten off and put to flight; and this, --
that the city came to be taken by storm, and fall suddenly into their
hands, upon the defeat and rout of the enemy, -- we must in all justice
ascribe to the valor of the assailants, and the wise conduct of their
general; but that not so much as a man of the Corinthians was either
slain or wounded in the action, this the good fortune of Timoleon seems
to challenge for her own work, as though, in a sort of rivalry with his
own personal exertions, she made it her aim to exceed and obscure his
actions by her favors, that those who heard him commended for his noble
deeds might rather admire the happiness, than the merit of them. For
the fame of what was done not only passed through all Sicily, and
filled Italy with wonder, but even Greece itself, after a few days,
came to ring with the greatness of his exploit; insomuch that those of
Corinth, who had as yet no certainty that their auxiliaries were landed
on the island, had tidings brought them at the same time that they were
safe and were conquerors. In so prosperous a course did affairs run,
and such was the speed and celerity of execution with which fortune, as
with a new ornament, set off the native lustres of the performance.
Timoleon, being master of the citadel, avoided the error which Dion had
been guilty of. He spared not the place for the beauty and
sumptuousness of its fabric, and, keeping clear of those suspicions
which occasioned first the unpopularity and afterwards the fall of
Dion, made a public crier give notice, that all the Syracusans who were
willing to have a hand in the work, should bring pick-axes and
mattocks, and other instruments, and help him to demolish the
fortifications of the tyrants. When they all came up with one accord,
looking upon that order and that day as the surest foundation of their
liberty, they not only pulled down the castle, but overturned the
palaces and monuments adjoining, and whatever else might preserve any
memory of former tyrants. Having soon leveled and cleared the place, he
there presently erected courts for administration of justice,
gratifying the citizens by this means, and building popular government
on the fall and ruin of tyranny. But since he had recovered a city
destitute of inhabitants, some of them dead in civil wars and
insurrections, and others being fled to escape tyrants, so that through
solitude and want of people the great marketplace of Syracuse was
overgrown with such quantity of rank herbage that it became a pasture
for their horses, the grooms lying along in the grass as they fed by
them; while also other towns, very few excepted, were become full of
stags and wild boars, so that those who had nothing else to do went
frequently a hunting, and found game in the suburbs and about the
walls; and not one of those who had possessed themselves of castles, or
made garrisons in the country, could be persuaded to quit their present
abode, or would accept an invitation to return back into the city, so
much did they all dread and abhor the very name of assemblies and forms
of government and public speaking, that had produced the greater part
of those usurpers who had successively assumed a dominion over them, --
Timoleon, therefore, with the Syracusans that remained, considering
this vast desolation, and how little hope there was to have it
otherwise supplied, thought good to write to the Corinthians,
requesting that they would send a colony out of Greece to repeople
Syracuse. For else the land about it would lie unimproved; and besides
this, they expected to be involved in a greater war from Africa, having
news brought them that Mago had killed himself, and that the
Carthaginians, out of rage for his ill conduct in the late expedition,
had caused his body to be nailed upon a cross, and that they were
raising a mighty force, with design to make their descent upon Sicily
the next summer.
These letters from Timoleon being delivered at Corinth, and the
ambassadors of Syracuse beseeching them at the same time, that they
would take upon them the care of their poor city, and once again become
the founders of it, the Corinthians were not tempted by any feeling of
cupidity to lay hold of the advantage. Nor did they seize and
appropriate the city to themselves, but going about first to the games
that are kept as sacred in Greece, and to the most numerously attended
religious assemblages, they made publication by heralds, that the
Corinthians, having destroyed the usurpation at Syracuse and driven out
the tyrant, did thereby invite the Syracusan exiles, and any other
Siceliots, to return and inhabit the city, with full enjoyment of
freedom under their own laws, the land being divided among them in just
and equal proportions. And after this, sending messengers into Asia and
the several islands where they understood that most of the scattered
fugitives were then residing, they bade them all repair to Corinth,
engaging that the Corinthians would afford them vessels and commanders,
and a safe convoy, at their own charges, to Syracuse. Such generous
proposals, being thus spread about, gained them the just and honorable
recompense of general praise and benediction, for delivering the
country from oppressors, and saving it from barbarians, and restoring
it at length to the rightful owners of the place. These, when they were
assembled at Corinth, and found how insufficient their company was,
besought the Corinthians that they might have a supplement of other
persons, as well out of their city as the rest of Greece, to go with
them as joint-colonists; and so raising themselves to the number of ten
thousand, they sailed together to Syracuse. By this time great
multitudes, also, from Italy and Sicily, had flocked in to Timoleon, so
that, as Athanis reports, their entire body amounted now to sixty
thousand men. Among these he divided the whole territory, and sold the
houses for a thousand talents; by which method, he both left it in the
power of the old Syracusans to redeem their own, and made it a means
also for raising a stock for the community, which had been so much
impoverished of late, and was so unable to defray other expenses, and
especially those of a war, that they exposed their very statues to
sale, a regular process being observed, and sentence of auction passed
upon each of them by majority of votes, as if they had been so many
criminals taking their trial: in the course of which it is said that
while condemnation was pronounced upon all other statues, that of the
ancient usurper Gelo was exempted, out of admiration and honor and for
the sake of the victory he gained over the Carthaginian forces at the
river Himera.
Syracuse being thus happily revived, and replenished again by the
general concourse of inhabitants from all parts, Timoleon was desirous
now to rescue other cities from the like bondage, and wholly and once
for all to extirpate arbitrary government out of Sicily. And for this
purpose, marching into the territories of those that used it, he
compelled Hicetes first to renounce the Carthaginian interest, and,
demolishing the fortresses which were held by him, to live henceforth
among the Leontinians as a private person. Leptines, also, the tyrant
of Apollonia and divers other little towns, after some resistance made,
seeing the danger he was in of being taken by force, surrendered
himself; upon which Timoleon spared his life, and sent him away to
Corinth, counting it a glorious thing that the mother city should
expose to the view of other Greeks these Sicilian tyrants, living now
in an exiled and a low condition. After this he returned to Syracuse,
that he might have leisure to attend to the establishment of the new
constitution, and assist Cephalus and Dionysius, who were sent from
Corinth to make laws, in determining the most important points of it.
In the meanwhile, desirous that his hired soldiers should not want
action, but might rather enrich themselves by some plunder from the
enemy, he dispatched Dinarchus and Demaretus with a portion of them
into the part of the island belonging to the Carthaginians, where they
obliged several cities to revolt from the barbarians, and not only
lived in great abundance themselves, but raised money from their spoil
to carry on the war.
Meantime, the Carthaginians landed at the promontory of Lilybaeum,
bringing with them an army of seventy thousand men on board two hundred
galleys, besides a thousand other vessels laden with engines of
battery, chariots, corn, and other military stores, as if they did not
intend to manage the war by piecemeal and in parts as heretofore, but
to drive the Greeks altogether and at once out of all Sicily. And
indeed it was a force sufficient to overpower the Siceliots, even
though they had been at perfect union among themselves, and had never
been enfeebled by intestine quarrels. Hearing that part of their
subject territory was suffering devastation, they forthwith made toward
the Corinthians with great fury, having Asdrubal and Hamilcar for their
generals; the report of whose numbers and strength coming suddenly to
Syracuse, the citizens were so terrified, that hardly three thousand,
among so many myriads of them, had the courage to take up arms and join
Timoleon. The foreigners, serving for pay, were not above four thousand
in all, and about a thousand of these grew fainthearted by the way, and
forsook Timoleon in his march towards the enemy, looking on him as
frantic and distracted, destitute of the sense which might have been
expected from his time of life, thus to venture out against an army of
seventy thousand men, with no more than five thousand foot and a
thousand horse; and, when he should have kept those forces to defend
the city, choosing rather to remove them eight days' journey from
Syracuse, so that if they were beaten from the field, they would have
no retreat, nor any burial if they fell upon it. Timoleon, however,
reckoned it some kind of advantage, that these had thus discovered
themselves before the battle, and, encouraging the rest, led them with
all speed to the river Crimesus, where it was told him the
Carthaginians were drawn together.
As he was marching up an ascent, from the top of which they expected to
have a view of the army and of the strength of the enemy, there met him
by chance a train of mules loaded with parsley; which his soldiers
conceived to be an ominous occurrence or ill-boding token, because this
is the herb with which we not unfrequently adorn the sepulchres of the
dead; and there is a proverb derived from the custom, used of one who
is dangerously sick, that he has need of nothing but parsley. So, to
ease their minds, and free them from any superstitious thoughts or
forebodings of evil, Timoleon halted, and concluded an address,
suitable to the occasion, by saying, that a garland of triumph was here
luckily brought them, and had fallen into their hands of its own
accord, as an anticipation of victory: the same with which the
Corinthians crown the victors in the Isthmian games, accounting
chaplets of parsley the sacred wreath proper to their country; parsley
being at that time still the emblem of victory at the Isthmian, as it
is now at the Nemean sports; and it is not so very long ago that the
pine first began to be used in its place.
Timoleon, therefore, having thus bespoke his soldiers, took part of the
parsley, and with it made himself a chaplet first, his captains and
their companies all following the example of their leader. The
soothsayers then, observing also two eagles on the wing towards them,
one of which bore a snake struck through with her talons, and the
other, as she flew, uttered a loud cry indicating boldness and
assurance, at once showed them to the soldiers, who with one consent
fell to supplicate the gods, and call them in to their assistance. It
was now about the beginning of summer, and conclusion of the month
called Thargelion, not far from the solstice; and the river sending up
a thick mist, all the adjacent plain was at first darkened with the
fog, so that for a while they could discern nothing from the enemy's
camp; only a confused buzz and undistinguished mixture of voices came
up to the hill from the distant motions and clamors of so vast a
multitude. When the Corinthians had mounted, and stood on the top, and
had laid down their bucklers to take breath and repose themselves, the
sun coming round and drawing up the vapors from below, the gross foggy
air that was now gathered and condensed above formed in a cloud upon
the mountains; and, all the under places being clear and open, the
river Crimesus appeared to them again, and they could descry the
enemies passing over it, first with their formidable four horse
chariots of war, and then ten thousand footmen bearing white shields,
whom they guessed to be all Carthaginians, from the splendor of their
arms, and the slowness and order of their march. And when now the
troops of various other nations, flowing in behind them, began to
throng for passage in a tumultuous and unruly manner, Timoleon,
perceiving that the river gave them opportunity to single off whatever
number of their enemies they had a mind to engage at once, and bidding
his soldiers observe how their forces were divided into two separate
bodies by the intervention of the stream, some being already over, and
others still to ford it, gave Demaretus command to fall in upon the
Carthaginians with his horse, and disturb their ranks before they
should be drawn up into form of battle; and coming down into the plain
himself, forming his right and left wing of other Sicilians,
intermingling only a few strangers in each, he placed the natives of
Syracuse in the middle, with the stoutest mercenaries he had about his
own person; and, waiting a little to observe the action of his horse,
when he saw they were not only hindered from grappling with the
Carthaginians by the armed chariots that ran to and fro before the
army, but forced continually to wheel about to escape having their
ranks broken, and so to repeat their charges anew, he took his buckler
in his hand, and crying out to the foot that they should follow him
with courage and confidence, he seemed to speak with a more than human
accent, and a voice stronger than ordinary; whether it were that he
naturally raised it so high in the vehemence and ardor of his mind to
assault the enemy, or else, as many then thought, some god or other
spoke with him. When his soldiers quickly gave an echo to it, all
besought him to lead them on without any further delay, he made a sign
to the horse, that they should draw off from the front where the
chariots were, and pass sidewards to attack their enemies in the flank;
then, making his vanguard firm by joining man to man and buckler to
buckler, he caused the trumpet to sound, and so bore in upon the
Carthaginians.
They, for their part, stoutly received and sustained his first onset;
and having their bodies armed with breastplates of iron, and helmets of
brass on their heads, besides great bucklers to cover and secure them,
they could easily repel the charge of the Greek spears. But when the
business came to a decision by the sword, where mastery depends no less
upon art than strength, all on a sudden from the mountain tops violent
peals of thunder and vivid dashes of lightning broke out; following
upon which the darkness, that had been hovering about the higher
grounds and the crests of the hills, descending to the place of battle
and bringing a tempest of rain and of wind and hail along with it, was
driven upon the Greeks behind, and fell only at their backs, but
discharged itself in the very faces of the barbarians, the rain beating
on them, and the lightning dazzling them without cessation; annoyances
that in many ways distressed at any rate the inexperienced, who had not
been used to such hardships, and, in particular, the claps of thunder,
and the noise of the rain and hail beating on their arms, kept them
from hearing the commands of their officers. Besides which, the very
mud also was a great hindrance to the Carthaginians, who were not
lightly equipped, but, as I said before, loaded with heavy armor; and
then their shirts underneath getting drenched, the foldings about the
bosom filled with water, grew unwieldy and cumbersome to them as they
fought, and made it easy for the Greeks to throw them down, and, when
they were once down, impossible for them, under that weight, to
disengage themselves and rise again with weapons in their hand. The
river Crimesus, too, swollen partly by the rain, and partly by the
stoppage of its course with the numbers that were passing through,
overflowed its banks; and the level ground by the side of it, being so
situated as to have a number of small ravines and hollows of the
hill-side descending upon it, was now filled with rivulets and currents
that had no certain channel, in which the Carthaginians stumbled and
rolled about, and found themselves in great difficulty. So that, in
fine, the storm bearing still upon them, and the Greeks having cut in
pieces four hundred men of their first ranks, the whole body of their
army began to fly. Great numbers were overtaken in the plain, and put
to the sword there; and many of them, as they were making their way
back through the river, falling foul upon others that were yet coming
over, were borne away and overwhelmed by the waters; but the major
part, attempting to get up the hills and so make their escape, were
intercepted and destroyed by the light-armed troops. It is said, that
of ten thousand who lay dead after the fight, three thousand, at least,
were Carthaginian citizens; a heavy loss and great grief to their
countrymen; those that fell being men inferior to none among them as to
birth, wealth, or reputation. Nor do their records mention that so many
native Carthaginians were ever cut off before in any one battle; as
they usually employed Africans, Spaniards, and Numidians in their wars,
so that if they chanced to be defeated, it was still at the cost and
damage of other nations.
The Greeks easily discovered of what condition and account the slain
were, by the richness of their spoils; for when they came to collect
the booty, there was little reckoning made either of brass or iron, so
abundant were better metals, and so common were silver and gold Passing
over the river, they became masters of their camp and carriages. As for
captives, a great many of them were stolen away, and sold privately by
the soldiers, but about five thousand were brought in and delivered up
for the benefit of the public; two hundred of their chariots of war
were also taken. The tent of Timoleon then presented a most glorious
and magnificent appearance, being heaped up and hung round with every
variety of spoils and military ornaments, among which there were a
thousand breastplates of rare workmanship and beauty, and bucklers to
the number of ten thousand. The victors being but few to strip so many
that were vanquished, and having such valuable booty to occupy them, it
was the third day after the fight before they could erect and finish
the trophy of their conquest. Timoleon sent tidings of his victory to
Corinth, with the best and goodliest arms he had taken as a proof of
it; that he thus might render his country an object of emulation to the
whole world, when, of all the cities of Greece, men should there alone
behold the chief temples adorned, not with Grecian spoils, nor
offerings obtained by the bloodshed and plunder of their own countrymen
and kindred, and attended, therefore, with sad and unhappy
remembrances, but with such as had been stripped from barbarians and
enemies to their nation, with the noblest titles inscribed upon them,
titles telling of the justice as well as fortitude of the conquerors;
namely, that the people of Corinth, and Timoleon their general, having
redeemed the Greeks of Sicily from Carthaginian bondage, made oblation
of these to the gods, in grateful acknowledgment of their favor.
Having done this, he left his hired soldiers in the enemy's country, to
drive and carry away all they could throughout the subject-territory of
Carthage, and so marched with the rest of his army to Syracuse, where
he issued an edict for banishing the thousand mercenaries who had
basely deserted him before the battle, and obliged them to quit the
city before sunset. They, sailing into Italy, lost their lives there by
the hands of the Bruttians, in spite of a public assurance of safety
previously given them; thus receiving, from the divine power, a just
reward of their own treachery. Mamercus, however, the tyrant of Catana,
and Hicetes, after all, either envying Timoleon the glory of his
exploits, or fearing him as one that would keep no agreement, nor have
any peace with tyrants, made a league with the Carthaginians, and
pressed them much to send a new army and commander into Sicily, unless
they would be content to hazard all, and to be wholly ejected out of
that island. And in consequence of this, Gisco was dispatched with a
navy of seventy sail. He took numerous Greek mercenaries also into pay,
that being the first time they had ever been enlisted for the
Carthaginian service; but then it seems the Carthaginians began to
admire them, as the most irresistible soldiers of all mankind. Uniting
their forces in the territory of Messena, they cut off four hundred of
Timoleon's paid soldiers, and within the dependencies of Carthage, at a
place called Hierae, destroyed, by an ambuscade, the whole body of
mercenaries that served under Euthymus the Leucadian; which accidents,
however, made the good fortune of Timoleon accounted all the more
remarkable, as these were the men that, with Philomelus of Phocis and
Onomarchus, had forcibly broken into the temple of Apollo at Delphi,
and were partakers with them in the sacrilege; so that, being hated and
shunned by all, as persons under a curse, they were constrained to
wander about in Peloponnesus; when, for want of others, Timoleon was
glad to take them into service in his expedition for Sicily, where they
were successful in whatever enterprise they attempted under his
conduct. But now, when all the important dangers were past, on his
sending them out for the relief and defense of his party in several
places, they perished and were destroyed at a distance from him, not
all together, but in small parties; and the vengeance which was
destined for them, so accommodating itself to the good fortune which
guarded Timoleon as not to allow any harm or prejudice for good men to
arise from the punishment of the wicked, the benevolence and kindness
which the gods had for Timoleon was thus as distinctly recognized in
his disasters as in his successes.
What most annoyed the Syracusans was their being insulted and mocked by
the tyrants; as, for example, by Mamercus, who valued himself much upon
his gift for writing poems and tragedies, and took occasion, when
coming to present the gods with the bucklers of the hired soldiers whom
he had killed, to make a boast of his victory in an insulting elegiac
inscription:
These shields, with purple, gold, and ivory wrought, Were won by us
that but with poor ones fought.
After this, while Timoleon marched to Calauria, Hicetes made an inroad
into the borders of Syracuse, where he met with considerable booty, and
having done much mischief and havoc, returned back by Calauria itself,
in contempt of Timoleon, and the slender force he had then with him.
He, suffering Hicetes to pass forward, pursued him with his horsemen
and light infantry, which Hicetes perceiving, crossed the river
Damyrias, and then stood in a posture to receive him; the difficulty of
the passage, and the height and steepness of the bank on each side,
giving advantage enough to make him confident. A strange contention and
dispute, meantime, among the officers of Timoleon, a little retarded
the conflict; no one of them was willing to let another pass over
before him to engage the enemy; each man claiming it as a right, to
venture first and begin the onset; so that their fording was likely to
be tumultuous and without order, a mere general struggle which should
be the foremost. Timoleon, therefore, desiring to decide the quarrel by
lot, took a ring from each of the pretenders, which he cast into his
own cloak, and, after he had shaken all together, the first he drew out
had, by good fortune, the figure of a trophy engraved as a seal upon
it; at the sight of which the young captains all shouted for joy, and,
without waiting any longer to see how chance would determine it for the
rest, took every man his way through the river with all the speed they
could make, and fell to blows with the enemies, who were not able to
bear up against the violence of their attack, but fled in haste and
left their arms behind them all alike, and a thousand dead upon the
place.
Not long after, Timoleon, marching up to the city of the Leontines,
took Hicetes alive, and his son Eupolemus, and Euthymus, the commander
of his horse, who were bound and brought to him by their own soldiers.
Hicetes and the stripling his son were then executed as tyrants and
traitors; and Euthymus, though a brave man, and one of singular
courage, could obtain no mercy, because he was charged with
contemptuous language in disparagement of the Corinthians when they
first sent their forces into Sicily: it is said that he told the
Leontini in a speech, that the news did not sound terrible, nor was any
great danger to be feared because of
Corinthian women coming out of doors.
So true is it that men are usually more stung and galled by reproachful
words than hostile actions; and they bear an affront with less patience
than an injury: to do harm and mischief by deeds is counted pardonable
from enemies, as nothing less can be expected in a state of war whereas
virulent and contumelious words appear to be the expression of needless
hatred, and to proceed from an excess of rancor.
When Timoleon came back to Syracuse, the citizens brought the wives and
daughters of Hicetes and his son to a public trial, and condemned and
put them to death. This seems to be the least pleasing action of
Timoleon's life; since if he had interposed, the unhappy women would
have been spared. He would appear to have disregarded the thing, and to
have given them up to the citizens, who were eager to take vengeance
for the wrongs done to Dion, who expelled Dionysius; since it was this
very Hicetes, who took Arete the wife, and Aristomache the sister of
Dion, with a son that had not yet passed his childhood, and threw them
all together into the sea alive, as related in the life of Dion.
After this, he moved towards Catana against Mamercus, who gave him
battle near the river Abolus, and was overthrown and put to flight,
losing above two thousand men, a considerable part of whom were the
Phoenician troops sent by Gisco to his assistance. After this defeat,
the Carthaginians sued for peace; which was granted on the conditions
that they should confine themselves to the country within the river
Lycus,@ that those of the inhabitants who wished to remove to the
Syracusan territories should be allowed to depart with their whole
families and fortunes, and, lastly, that Carthage should renounce all
engagements to the tyrants. Mamercus, now forsaken and despairing of
success, took ship for Italy with the design of bringing in the
Lucanians against Timoleon and the people of Syracuse; but the men in
his galleys turning back and landing again and delivering up Catana to
Timoleon, thus obliged him to fly for his own safety to Messena, where
Hippo was tyrant. Timoleon, however, coming up against them, and
besieging the city both by sea and land, Hippo, fearful of the event,
endeavored to slip away in a vessel; which the people of Messena
surprised as it was putting off, and seizing on his person, and
bringing all their children from school into the theater, to witness
the glorious spectacle of a tyrant punished, they first publicly
scourged and then put him to death. Mamercus made surrender of himself
to Timoleon, with the proviso, that he should be tried at Syracuse, and
Timoleon should take no part in his accusation. Thither he was brought
accordingly, and presenting himself to plead before the people, he
essayed to pronounce an oration he had long before composed in his own
defense; but finding himself interrupted by noise and clamors, and
observing from their aspect and demeanor that the assembly was
inexorable, he threw off his upper garment, and running across the
theater as hard as he could, dashed his head against one of the stones
under the seats with intention to have killed himself; but he had not
the fortune to perish, as he designed, but was taken up alive, and
suffered the death of a robber.
Thus did Timoleon cut the nerves of tyranny, and put a period to their
wars; and, whereas, at his first entering upon Sicily, the island was
as it were become wild again, and was hateful to the very natives on
account of the evils and miseries they suffered there, he so civilized
and restored it, and rendered it so desirable to all men, that even
strangers now came by sea to inhabit those towns and places which their
own citizens had formerly forsaken and left desolate. Agrigentum and
Gela, two famous cities that had been ruined and laid waste by the
Carthaginians after the Attic war, were then peopled again, the one by
Megellus and Pheristus from Elea, the other by Gorgus, from the island
of Ceos, partly with new settlers, partly with the old inhabitants whom
they collected again from various parts; to all of whom Timoleon not
only afforded a secure and peaceable abode after so obstinate a war,
but was further so zealous in assisting and providing for them that he
was honored among them as their founder. Similar feelings also
possessed to such a degree all the rest of the Sicilians, that there
was no proposal for peace, nor reformation of laws, nor assignation of
land, nor reconstitution of government, which they could think well of,
unless he lent his aid as a chief architect, to finish and adorn the
work, and superadd some touches from his own hand, which might render
it pleasing both to God and man.
Although Greece had in his time produced several persons of
extraordinary worth, and much renowned for their achievements, such as
Timotheus and Agesilaus and Pelopidas and (Timoleon's chief model)
Epaminondas, yet the lustre of their best actions was obscured by a
degree of violence and labor, insomuch that some of them were matter of
blame and of repentance; whereas there is not any one act of
Timoleon's, setting aside the necessity he was placed under in
reference to his brother, to which, as Timaeus observes, we may not
fitly apply that exclamation of Sophocles:
O gods! what Venus, or what grace divine, Did here with human
workmanship combine?
For as the poetry of Antimachus, and the painting of Dionysius, the
artists of Colophon, though full of force and vigor, yet appeared to be
strained and elaborate in comparison with the pictures of Nicomachus
and the verses of Homer, which, besides their general strength and
beauty, have the peculiar charm of seeming to have been executed with
perfect ease and readiness; so the expeditions and acts of Epaminondas
or Agesilaus, that were full of toil and effort, when compared with the
easy and natural as well as noble and glorious achievements of
Timoleon, compel our fair and unbiased judgment to pronounce the latter
not indeed the effect of fortune, but the success of fortunate merit.
Though he himself indeed ascribed that success to the sole favor of
fortune; and both in the letters which he wrote to his friends at
Corinth, and in the speeches he made to the people of Syracuse, he
would say, that he was thankful unto God, who, designing to save
Sicily, was pleased to honor him with the name and title of the
deliverance he vouchsafed it. And having built a chapel in his house,
he there sacrificed to Good Hap, as a deity that had favored him, and
devoted the house itself to the Sacred Genius; it being a house which
the Syracusans had selected for him, as a special reward and monument
of his brave exploits, granting him together with it the most agreeable
and beautiful piece of land in the whole country, where he kept his
residence for the most part, and enjoyed a private life with his wife
and children, who came to him from Corinth. For he returned thither no
more, unwilling to be concerned in the broils and tumults of Greece, or
to expose himself to public envy (the fatal mischief which great
commanders continually run into, from the insatiable appetite for
honors and authority); but wisely chose to spend the remainder of his
days in Sicily, and there partake of the blessings he himself had
procured, the greatest of which was, to behold so many cities flourish,
and so many thousands of people live happy through his means.
As, however, not only, as Simonides says, "On every lark must grow a
crest," but also in every democracy there must spring up a false
accuser, so was it at Syracuse: two of their popular spokesmen,
Laphystius and Demaenetus by name, fell to slander Timoleon. The former
of whom requiring him to put in sureties that he would answer to an
indictment that would be brought against him, Timoleon would not suffer
the citizens, who were incensed at this demand, to oppose it or hinder
the proceeding, since he of his own accord had been, he said, at all
that trouble, and run so many dangerous risks for this very end and
purpose, that every one who wished to try matters by law should freely
have recourse to it. And when Demaenetus, in a full audience of the
people, laid several things to his charge which had been done while he
was general, he made no other reply to him, but only said he was much
indebted to the gods for granting the request he had so often made
them, namely, that he might live to see the Syracusans enjoy that
liberty of speech which they now seemed to be masters of.
Timoleon, therefore, having by confession of all done the greatest and
the noblest things of any Greek of his age, and alone distinguished
himself in those actions to which their orators and philosophers, in
their harangues and panegyrics at their solemn national assemblies,
used to exhort and incite the Greeks, and being withdrawn beforehand by
happy fortune, unspotted and without blood, from the calamities of
civil war, in which ancient Greece was soon after involved; having also
given full proof, as of his sage conduct and manly courage to the
barbarians and tyrants, so of his justice and gentleness to the Greeks,
and his friends in general; having raised, too, the greater part of
those trophies he won in battle, without any tears shed or any mourning
worn by the citizens either of Syracuse or Corinth, and within less
than eight years' space delivered Sicily from its inveterate grievances
and intestine distempers, and given it up free to the native
inhabitants, began, as he was now growing old, to find his eyes fail,
and awhile after became perfectly blind. Not that he had done anything
himself which might occasion this defect, or was deprived of his sight
by any outrage of fortune; it seems rather to have been some inbred and
hereditary weakness that was founded in natural causes, which by length
of time came to discover itself. For it is said, that several of his
kindred and family were subject to the like gradual decay, and lost all
use of their eyes, as he did, in their declining years. Athanis the
historian tells us, that even during the war against Hippo and
Mamercus, while he was in his camp at Mylae, there appeared a white
speck within his eye, from whence all could foresee the deprivation
that was coming on him; this, however, did not hinder him then from
continuing the siege, and prosecuting the war, till he got both the
tyrants into his power; but upon his coming back to Syracuse, he
presently resigned the authority of sole commander, and besought the
citizens to excuse him from any further service, since things were
already brought to so fair an issue. Nor is it so much to be wondered,
that he himself should bear the misfortune without any marks of
trouble; but the respect and gratitude which the Syracusans showed him
when he was entirely blind, may justly deserve our admiration. They
used to go themselves to visit him in troops, and brought all the
strangers that traveled through their country to his house and manor,
that they also might have the pleasure to see their noble benefactor;
making it the great matter of their joy and exultation, that when,
after so many brave and happy exploits, he might have returned with
triumph into Greece, he should disregard all the glorious preparations
that were there made to receive him, and choose rather to stay here and
end his days among them. Of the various things decreed and done in
honor of Timoleon, I consider one most signal testimony to have been
the vote which they passed, that, whenever they should be at war with
any foreign nation, they should make use of none but a Corinthian
general. The method, also, of their proceeding in council, was a noble
demonstration of the same deference for his person. For, determining
matters of less consequence themselves, they always called him to
advise in the more difficult cases, and such as were of greater moment.
He was, on these occasions, carried through the market-place in a
litter, and brought in, sitting, into the theater, where the people
with one voice saluted him by his name; and then, after returning the
courtesy, and pausing for a time, till the noise of their gratulations
and blessings began to cease, he heard the business in debate, and
delivered his opinion. This being confirmed by a general suffrage, his
servants went back with the litter through the midst of the assembly,
the people waiting on him out with acclamations and applauses, and then
returning to consider other public matters, which they could dispatch
in his absence. Being thus cherished in his old age, with all the
respect and tenderness due to a common father, he was seized with a
very slight indisposition, which however was sufficient, with the aid
of time, to put a period to his life. There was an allotment then of
certain days given, within the space of which the Syracusans were to
provide whatever should be necessary for his burial, and all the
neighboring country people and strangers were to make their appearance
in a body; so that the funeral pomp was set out with great splendor and
magnificence in all other respects, and the bier, decked with ornaments
and trophies, was borne by a select body of young men over that ground
where the palace and castle of Dionysius stood, before they were
demolished by Timoleon. There attended on the solemnity several
thousands of men and women, all crowned with flowers, and arrayed in
fresh and clean attire, which made it look like the procession of a
public festival; while the language of all, and their tears mingling
with their praise and benediction of the dead Timoleon, manifestly
showed that it was not any superficial honor, or commanded homage,
which they paid him, but the testimony of a just sorrow for his death,
and the expression of true affection. The bier at length being placed
upon the pile of wood that was kindled to consume his corpse,
Demetrius, one of their loudest criers, proceeded to read a
proclamation to the following purpose: "The people of Syracuse has made
a special decree to inter Timoleon, the son of Timodemus, the
Corinthian, at the common expense of two hundred minas, and to honor
his memory forever, by the establishment of annual prizes to be
competed for in music, and horse races, and all sorts of bodily
exercise; and this, because he suppressed the tyrants, overthrew the
barbarians, replenished the principal cities, that were desolate, with
new inhabitants, and then restored the Sicilian Greeks to the privilege
of living by their own laws." Besides this, they made a tomb for him in
the marketplace, which they afterwards built round with colonnades, and
attached to it places of exercise for the young men, and gave it the
name of the Timoleonteum. And keeping to that form and order of civil
policy and observing those laws and constitutions which he left them,
they lived themselves a long time in great prosperity.
AEMILIUS PAULUS
Almost all historians agree that the Aemilii were one of the ancient
and patrician houses in Rome; and those authors who affirm that king
Numa was pupil to Pythagoras, tell us that the first who gave the name
to his posterity was Mamercus, the son of Pythagoras, who, for his
grace and address in speaking, was called Aemilius. Most of this race
that have risen through their merit to reputation, also enjoyed good
fortune; and even the misfortune of Lucius Paulus at the battle of
Cannae, gave testimony to his wisdom and valor. For, not being able to
persuade his colleague not to hazard the battle, he, though against his
judgment, joined with him in the contest, but was no companion in his
flight: on the contrary, when he that was so resolute to engage
deserted him in the midst of danger, he kept the field, and died
fighting. This Aemilius had a daughter named Aemilia, who was married
to Scipio the Great, and a son Paulus, who is the subject of my present
history.
In his early manhood, which fell at a time when Rome was flourishing
with illustrious characters, he was distinguished for not attaching
himself to the studies usual with the young men of mark of that age,
nor treading the same paths to fame. For he did not practice oratory
with a view to pleading causes, nor would he stoop to salute, embrace,
and entertain the vulgar, which were the usual insinuating arts by
which many grew popular. Not that he was incapable of either, but he
chose to purchase a much more lasting glory by his valor, justice, and
integrity, and in these virtues he soon outstripped all his equals.
The first honorable office he aspired to was that of aedile, which he
carried against twelve competitors of such merit, that all of them in
process of time were consuls. Being afterwards chosen into the number
of priests called augurs, appointed amongst the Romans to observe and
register divinations made by the flight of birds or prodigies in the
air, he so carefully studied the ancient customs of his country, and so
thoroughly understood the religion of his ancestors, that this office,
which was before only esteemed a title of honor and merely upon that
account sought after, by his means rose to the rank of one of the
highest arts, and gave a confirmation to the correctness of the
definition which some philosophers have given of religion, that it is
the science of worshiping the gods. When he performed any part of his
duty, he did it with great skill and utmost care, making it, when he
was engaged in it, his only business, not omitting any one ceremony, or
adding the least circumstance, but always insisting, with his
companions of the same order, even on points that might seem
inconsiderable, and urging upon them, that though they might think the
deity was easily pacified, and ready to forgive faults of inadvertency,
yet any such laxity was a very dangerous thing for a commonwealth to
allow: because no man ever began the disturbance of his country's peace
by a notorious breach of its laws; and those who are careless in
trifles, give a precedent for remissness in important duties. Nor was
he less severe, in requiring and observing the ancient Roman discipline
in military affairs; not endeavoring, when he had the command, to
ingratiate himself with his soldiers by popular flattery, though this
custom prevailed at that time amongst many, who, by favor and
gentleness to those that were under them in their first employment,
sought to be promoted to a second; but, by instructing them in the laws
of military discipline with the same care and exactness a priest would
use in teaching ceremonies and dreadful mysteries, and by severity to
such as transgressed and contemned those laws, he maintained his
country in its former greatness, esteeming victory over enemies itself
but as an accessory to the proper training and disciplining of the
citizens.
Whilst the Romans were engaged in war with Antiochus the Great, against
whom their most experienced commanders were employed, there arose
another war in the west, and they were all up in arms in Spain. Thither
they sent Aemilius, in the quality of praetor, not with six axes, which
number other praetors were accustomed to have carried before them, but
with twelve; so that in his praetorship he was honored with the dignity
of a consul. He twice overcame the barbarians in battle, thirty
thousand of whom were slain: successes chiefly to be ascribed to the
wisdom and conduct of the commander, who by his great skill in choosing
the advantage of the ground, and making the onset at the passage of a
river, gave his soldiers an easy victory. Having made himself master of
two hundred and fifty cities, whose inhabitants voluntarily yielded,
and bound themselves by oath to fidelity, he left the province in
peace, and returned to Rome, not enriching himself a drachma by the
war. And, indeed, in general, he was but remiss in making money; though
he always lived freely and generously on what he had, which was so far
from being excessive, that after his death there was but barely enough
left to answer his wife's dowry.
His first wife was Papiria, the daughter of Maso, who had formerly been
consul. With her he lived a considerable time in wedlock, and then
divorced her, though she had made him the father of noble children;
being mother of the renowned Scipio, and Fabius Maximus. The reason of
this separation has not come to our knowledge; but there seems to be a
truth conveyed in the account of another Roman's being divorced from
his wife, which may be applicable here. This person being highly blamed
by his friends, who demanded, Was she not chaste? was she not fair? was
she not fruitful? holding out his shoe, asked them, Whether it was not
new? and well made? Yet, added he, none of you can tell where it
pinches me. Certain it is, that great and open faults have often led to
no separation; while mere petty repeated annoyances, arising from
unpleasantness or incongruity of character, have been the occasion of
such estrangement as to make it impossible for man and wife to live
together with any content.
Aemilius, having thus put away Papiria, married a second wife, by whom
he had two sons, whom he brought up in his own house, transferring the
two former into the greatest and most noble families of Rome. The elder
was adopted into the house of Fabius Maximus, who was five times
consul; the younger, by the son of Scipio Africanus, his cousin-german,
and was by him named Scipio.
Of the daughters of Aemilius, one was married to the son of Cato, the
other to Aelius Tubero, a most worthy man, and the one Roman who best
succeeded in combining liberal habits with poverty. For there were
sixteen near relations, all of them of the family of the Aelii,
possessed of but one farm, which sufficed them all, whilst one small
house, or rather cottage, contained them, their numerous offspring, and
their wives; amongst whom was the daughter of our Aemilius, who,
although her father had been twice consul, and had twice triumphed, was
not ashamed of her husband's poverty, but proud of his virtue that kept
him poor. Far otherwise it is with the brothers and relations of this
age, who, unless whole tracts of land, or at least walls and rivers,
part their inheritances, and keep them at a distance, never cease from
mutual quarrels. History suggests a variety of good counsel of this
sort, by the way, to those who desire to learn and improve.
To proceed: Aemilius, being chosen consul, waged war with the
Ligurians, or Ligustines, a people near the Alps. They were a bold and
warlike nation, and their neighborhood to the Romans had begun to give
them skill in the arts of war. They occupy the further parts of Italy
ending under the Alps, and those parts of the Alps themselves which are
washed by the Tuscan sea and face towards Africa, mingled there with
Gauls and Iberians of the coast. Besides, at that time they had turned
their thoughts to the sea, and sailing as far as the Pillars of
Hercules in light vessels fitted for that purpose, robbed and destroyed
all that trafficked in those parts. They, with an army of forty
thousand, waited the coming of Aemilius, who brought with him not above
eight thousand, so that the enemy was five to one when they engaged;
yet he vanquished and put them to flight, forcing them to retire into
their walled towns, and in this condition offered them fair conditions
of accommodation; it being the policy of the Romans not utterly to
destroy the Ligurians, because they were a sort of guard and bulwark
against the frequent attempts of the Gauls to overrun Italy. Trusting
wholly therefore to Aemilius, they delivered up their towns and
shipping into his hands. He, at the utmost, razed only the
fortifications, and delivered their towns to them again, but took away
all their shipping with him, leaving them no vessels bigger than those
of three oars, and set at liberty great numbers of prisoners they had
taken both by sea and land, strangers as well as Romans. These were the
acts most worthy of remark in his first consulship.
Afterwards he frequently intimated his desire of being a second time
consul, and was once candidate; but, meeting with a repulse and being
passed by, he gave up all thought of it, and devoted himself to his
duties as augur, and to the education of his children, whom he not only
brought up, as he himself had been, in the Roman and ancient
discipline, but also with unusual zeal in that of Greece. To this
purpose he not only procured masters to teach them grammar, logic, and
rhetoric, but had for them also preceptors in modeling and drawing,
managers of horses and dogs, and instructors in field sports, all from
Greece. And, if he was not hindered by public affairs, he himself would
be with them at their studies, and see them perform their exercises,
being the most affectionate father in Rome.
This was the time, in public matters, when the Romans were engaged in
war with Perseus, king of the Macedonians, and great complaints were
made of their commanders, who, either through their want of skill or
courage, were conducting matters so shamefully, that they did less hurt
to the enemy than they received from him. They that not long before had
forced Antiochus the Great to quit the rest of Asia, to retire beyond
Mount Taurus, and confine himself to Syria, glad to buy his peace with
fifteen thousand talents; they that not long since had vanquished king
Philip in Thessaly, and freed the Greeks from the Macedonian yoke; nay,
had overcome Hannibal himself, who far surpassed all kings in daring
and power,—thought it scorn that Perseus should think himself an enemy
fit to match the Romans, and to be able to wage war with them so long
on equal terms, with the remainder only of his father's routed forces;
not being aware that Philip after his defeat had greatly improved both
the strength and discipline of the Macedonian army. To make which
appear, I shall briefly recount the story from the beginning.
Antigonus, the most powerful amongst the captains and successors of
Alexander, having obtained for himself and his posterity the title of
king, had a son named Demetrius, father to Antigonus, called Gonatas,
and he had a son Demetrius, who, reigning some short time, died and
left a young son called Philip. The chief men of Macedon, fearing great
confusion might arise in his minority, called in Antigonus,
cousin-german to the late king, and married him to the widow, the
mother of Philip. At first they only styled him regent and general,
but, when they found by experience that he governed the kingdom with
moderation and to general advantage, gave him the title of king. This
was he that was surnamed Doson, as if he was a great promiser, and a
bad performer. To him succeeded Philip, who in his youth gave great
hopes of equaling the best of kings, and that he one day would restore
Macedon to its former state and dignity, and prove himself the one man
able to check the power of the Romans, now rising and extending over
the whole world. But, being vanquished in a pitched battle by Titus
Flamininus near Scotussa, his resolution failed, and he yielded himself
and all that he had to the mercy of the Romans, well contented that he
could escape with paying a small tribute. Yet afterwards, recollecting
himself, he bore it with great impatience, and thought he lived rather
like a slave that was pleased with ease, than a man of sense and
courage, whilst he held his kingdom at the pleasure of his conquerors;
which made him turn his whole mind to war, and prepare himself with as
much cunning and privacy as possible. To this end, he left his cities
on the high roads and sea-coast ungarrisoned, and almost desolate, that
they might seem inconsiderable; in the mean time, collecting large
forces up the country, and furnishing his inland posts, strongholds,
and towns, with arms, money, and men fit for service, he thus provided
himself for war, and yet kept his preparations close. He had in his
armory arms for thirty thousand men; in granaries in places of
strength, eight millions of bushels of corn, and as much ready money as
would defray the charge of maintaining ten thousand mercenary soldiers
for ten years in defense of the country. But before he could put these
things into motion, and carry his designs into effect, he died for
grief and anguish of mind, being sensible he had put his innocent son
Demetrius to death, upon the calumnies of one that was far more guilty.
Perseus, his son that survived, inherited his hatred to the Romans as
well as his kingdom, but was incompetent to carry out his designs,
through want of courage, and the viciousness of a character in which,
among faults and diseases of various sorts, covetousness bore the chief
place. There is a statement also of his not being true born; that the
wife of king Philip took him from his mother Gnathaenion (a woman of
Argos, that earned her living as a seamstress), as soon as he was born,
and passed him upon her husband as her own. And this might be the chief
cause of his contriving the death of Demetrius; as he might well fear,
that so long as there was a lawful successor in the family, there was
no security that his spurious birth might not be revealed.
Notwithstanding all this, and though his spirit was so mean, and temper
so sordid, yet, trusting to the strength of his resources, he engaged
in a war with the Romans, and for a long time maintained it; repulsing
and even vanquishing some generals of consular dignity, and some great
armies and fleets. He routed Publius Licinius, who was the first that
invaded Macedonia, in a cavalry battle, slew twenty-five hundred
practiced soldiers, and took six hundred prisoners; and, surprising
their fleet as they rode at anchor before Oreus, he took twenty ships
of burden with all their lading, sunk the rest that were freighted with
corn, and, besides this, made himself master of four galleys with five
banks of oars. He fought a second battle with Hostilius, a consular
officer, as he was making his way into the country at Elimiae, and
forced him to retreat; and, when he afterwards by stealth designed an
invasion through Thessaly, challenged him to fight, which the other
feared to accept. Nay more, to show his contempt of the Romans, and
that he wanted employment, as a war by the by, he made an expedition
against the Dardanians, in which he slew ten thousand of those
barbarian people, and brought a great spoil away. He privately,
moreover, solicited the Gauls (also called Basternae), a warlike
nation, and famous for horsemen, dwelling near the Danube; and incited
the Illyrians, by the means of Genthius their king, to join with him in
the war. It was also reported, that the barbarians, allured by promise
of rewards, were to make an irruption into Italy, through the lower
Gaul by the shore of the Adriatic Sea.
The Romans, being advertised of these things, thought it necessary no
longer to choose their commanders by favor or solicitation, but of
their own motion to select a general of wisdom and capacity for the
management of great affairs. And such was Paulus Aemilius, advanced in
years, being nearly threescore, yet vigorous in his own person, and
rich in valiant sons and sons-in-law, besides a great number of
influential relations and friends, all of whom joined in urging him to
yield to the desires of the people, who called him to the consulship.
He at first manifested some shyness of the people, and withdrew himself
from their importunity, professing reluctance to hold office; but, when
they daily came to his doors, urging him to come forth to the place of
election, and pressing him with noise and clamor, he acceded to their
request. When he appeared amongst the candidates, it did not look as if
it were to sue for the consulship, but to bring victory and success,
that he came down into the Campus; they all received him there with
such hopes and such gladness, unanimously choosing him a second time
consul; nor would they suffer the lots to be cast, as was usual, to
determine which province should fall to his share, but immediately
decreed him the command of the Macedonian war. It is told, that when he
had been proclaimed general against Perseus, and was honorably
accompanied home by great numbers of people, he found his daughter
Tertia, a very little girl, weeping, and taking her to him asked her
why she was crying. She, catching him about the neck and kissing him,
said, "O father, do you not know that Perseus is dead?" meaning a
little dog of that name that was brought up in the house with her; to
which Aemilius replied, "Good fortune, my daughter; I embrace the
omen." This Cicero, the orator, relates in his book on divination.
It was the custom for such as were chosen consuls, from a stage
designed for such purposes, to address the people, and return them
thanks for their favor. Aemilius, therefore, having gathered an
assembly, spoke and said, that he sued for the first consulship,
because he himself stood in need of such honor; but for the second,
because they wanted a general; upon which account he thought there was
no thanks due: if they judged they could manage the war by any other to
more advantage, he would willingly yield up his charge; but, if they
confided in him, they were not to make themselves his colleagues in his
office, or raise reports, and criticize his actions, but, without
talking, supply him with means and assistance necessary to the carrying
on of the war; for, if they proposed to command their own commander,
they would render this expedition more ridiculous than the former. By
this speech he inspired great reverence for him amongst the citizens,
and great expectations of future success; all were well pleased, that
they had passed by such as sought to be preferred by flattery, and
fixed upon a commander endued with wisdom and courage to tell them the
truth. So entirely did the people of Rome, that they might rule, and
become masters of the world, yield obedience and service to reason and
superior virtue.
That Aemilius, setting forward to the war, by a prosperous voyage and
successful journey, arrived with speed and safety at his camp, I
attribute to good fortune; but, when I see how the war under his
command was brought to a happy issue, partly by his own daring
boldness, partly by his good counsel, partly by the ready
administration of his friends, partly by his presence of mind and skill
to embrace the most proper advice in the extremity of danger, I cannot
ascribe any of his remarkable and famous actions (as I can those of
other commanders) to his so much celebrated good fortune; unless you
will say that the covetousness of Perseus was the good fortune of
Aemilius. The truth is, Perseus' fear of spending his money was the
destruction and utter ruin of all those splendid and great preparations
with which the Macedonians were in high hopes to carry on the war with
success. For there came at his request ten thousand horsemen of the
Basternae, and as many foot, who were to keep pace with them, and
supply their places in case of failure; all of them professed soldiers,
men skilled neither in tilling of land, nor in navigation of ships, nor
able to get their livings by grazing, but whose only business and
single art and trade it was to fight and conquer all that resisted
them. When these came into the district of Maedica, and encamped and
mixed with the king's soldiers, being men of great stature, admirable
at their exercises, great boasters, and loud in their threats against
their enemies, they gave new courage to the Macedonians, who were ready
to think the Romans would not be able to confront them, but would be
struck with terror at their looks and motions, they were so strange and
so formidable to behold. When Perseus had thus encouraged his men, and
elevated them with these great hopes, as soon as a thousand gold pieces
were demanded for each captain, he was so amazed and beside himself at
the vastness of the amount, that out of mere stinginess he drew back
and let himself lose their assistance, as if he had been some steward,
not the enemy of the Romans, and would have to give an exact account of
the expenses of the war, to those with whom he waged it. Nay, when he
had his foes as tutors, to instruct him what he had to do, who, besides
their other preparations, had a hundred thousand men drawn together and
in readiness for their service; yet he that was to engage against so
considerable a force, and in a war that was maintaining such numbers as
this, nevertheless doled out his money, and put seals on his bags, and
was as fearful of touching it, as if it had belonged to some one else.
And all this was done by one, not descended from Lydians or
Phoenicians, but who could pretend to some share of the virtues of
Alexander and Philip, whom he was allied to by birth; men who conquered
the world by judging that empire was to be purchased by money, not
money by empire. Certainly it became a proverb, that not Philip, but
his gold took the cities of Greece. And Alexander, when he undertook
his expedition against the Indians, and found his Macedonians
encumbered, and appear to march heavily with their Persian spoils,
first set fire to his own carriages, and thence persuaded the rest to
imitate his example, that thus freed they might proceed to the war
without hindrance. Whereas Perseus, abounding in wealth, would not
preserve himself; his children, and his kingdom, at the expense of a
small part of his treasure; but chose rather to be carried away with
numbers of his subjects with the name of the wealthy captive, and show
the Romans what great riches he had husbanded and preserved for them.
For he not only played false with the Gauls, and sent them away, but
also, after alluring Genthius, king of the Illyrians, by the hopes of
three hundred talents, to assist him in the war, he caused the money to
be counted out in the presence of his messengers, and to be sealed up.
Upon which Genthius, thinking himself possessed of what he desired,
committed a wicked and shameful act: he seized and imprisoned the
ambassadors sent to him from the Romans. Whence Perseus, concluding
that there was now no need of money to make Genthius an enemy to the
Romans, but that he had given a lasting earnest of his enmity, and by
his flagrant injustice sufficiently involved himself in the war,
defrauded the unfortunate king of his three hundred talents, and
without any concern beheld him, his wife, and children, in a short time
after, carried out of their kingdom, as from their nest, by Lucius
Anicius, who was sent against him with an army.
Aemilius, coming against such an adversary, made light indeed of him,
but admired his preparation and power. For he had four thousand horse,
and not much fewer than forty thousand full-armed foot of the phalanx;
and planting himself along the seaside, at the foot of Mount Olympus,
in ground with no access on any side, and on all sides fortified with
fences and bulwarks of wood, remained in great security, thinking by
delay and expense to weary out Aemilius. But he, in the meantime, busy
in thought, weighed all counsels and all means of attack, and
perceiving his soldiers, from their former want of discipline, to be
impatient of delay, and ready on all occasions to teach their general
his duty, rebuked them, and bade them not meddle with what was not
their concern, but only take care that they and their arms were in
readiness, and to use their swords like Romans when their commander
should think fit to employ them. Further he ordered, that the sentinels
by night should watch without javelins, that thus they might be more
careful and surer to resist sleep, having no arms to defend themselves
against any attacks of an enemy.
What most annoyed the army was the want of water; for only a little,
and that foul, flowed out, or rather came by drops from a spring
adjoining the sea; but Aemilius, considering that he was at the foot of
the high and woody mountain Olympus, and conjecturing by the
flourishing growth of the trees that there were springs that had their
course under ground, dug a great many holes and wells along the foot of
the mountain, which were presently filled with pure water escaping from
its confinement into the vacuum they afforded. Although there are some,
indeed, who deny that there are reservoirs of water lying ready
provided out of sight, in the places from whence springs flow, and that
when they appear, they merely issue and run out; on the contrary, they
say, they are then formed and come into existence for the first time,
by the liquefaction of the surrounding matter; and that this change is
caused by density and cold, when the moist vapor, by being closely
pressed together, becomes fluid. As women's breasts are not like
vessels full of milk always prepared and ready to flow from them; but
their nourishment being changed in their breasts, is there made milk,
and from thence is pressed out. In like manner, places of the earth
that are cold and full of springs, do not contain any hidden waters or
receptacles which are capable, as from a source always ready and
furnished, of supplying all the brooks and deep rivers; but, by
compressing and condensing the vapors and air, they turn them into that
substance. And thus places that are dug open flow by that pressure, and
afford the more water (as the breasts of women do milk by their being
sucked), the vapor thus moistening and becoming fluid; whereas ground
that remains idle and undug is not capable of producing any water,
whilst it wants that motion which is the cause of liquefaction. But
those that assert this opinion, give occasion to the doubtful to argue,
that on the same ground there should be no blood in living creatures,
but that it must be formed by the wound, some sort of spirit or flesh
being changed into a liquid and flowing matter. Moreover, they are
refuted by the fact that men who dig mines, either in sieges or for
metals, meet with rivers, which are not collected by little and little
(as must necessarily be, if they had their being at the very instant
the earth was opened), but break out at once with violence; and upon
the cutting through a rock, there often gush out great quantities of
water, which then as suddenly cease. But of this enough.
Aemilius lay still for some days, and it is said, that there were never
two great armies so nigh, that enjoyed so much quiet. When he had tried
and considered all things, he was informed that there was yet one
passage left unguarded, through Perrhaebia by the temple of Apollo and
the Rock. Gathering, therefore, more hope from the place being left
defenseless than fear from the roughness and difficulty of the passage,
he proposed it for consultation. Amongst those that were present at the
council, Scipio, surnamed Nasica, son-in-law to Scipio Africanus, who
afterwards was so powerful in the senate-house, was the first that
offered himself to command those that should be sent to encompass the
enemy. Next to him, Fabius Maximus, eldest son of Aemilius, although
yet very young, offered himself with great zeal. Aemilius, rejoicing,
gave them, not so many as Polybius states, but, as Nasica himself tells
us in a brief letter which he wrote to one of the kings with an account
of the expedition, three thousand Italians that were not Romans, and
his left wing consisting of five thousand. Taking with him, besides
these, one hundred and twenty horsemen, and two hundred Thracians and
Cretans intermixed that Harpalus had sent, he began his journey towards
the sea, and encamped near the temple of Hercules, as if he designed to
embark, and so to sail round and environ the enemy. But when the
soldiers had supped and it was dark, he made the captains acquainted
with his real intentions, and marching all night in the opposite
direction, away from the sea, till he came under the temple of Apollo,
there rested his army. At this place Mount Olympus rises in height more
than ten furlongs, as appears by the epigram made by the man that
measured it:
The summit of Olympus, at the site Where stands Apollo's temple, has a
height Of full ten furlongs by the line, and more, Ten furlongs, and
one hundred feet, less four. Eumelus' son Xenagoras, reached the place.
Adieu, O king, and do thy pilgrim grace.
It is allowed, say the geometricians, that no mountain in height or sea
in depth exceeds ten furlongs, and yet it seems probable that Xenagoras
did not take his admeasurement carelessly, but according to the rules
of art, and with instruments for the purpose. Here it was that Nasica
passed the night.
A Cretan deserter, who fled to the enemy during the march, discovered
to Perseus the design which the Romans had to encompass him: for he,
seeing that Aemilius lay still, had not suspected any such attempt. He
was startled at the news, yet did not put his army in motion, but sent
ten thousand mercenary soldiers and two thousand Macedonians, under
command of Milo, with order to hasten and possess themselves of the
passes. Polybius relates that the Romans found these men asleep when
they attacked them; but Nasica says there was a sharp and severe
conflict on the top of the mountain, that he himself encountered a
mercenary Thracian, pierced him through with his javelin, and slew him;
and that the enemy being forced to retreat, Milo stripped to his coat
and fled shamefully without his armor, while he followed without
danger, and conveyed the whole army down into the country.
After this event, Perseus, now grown fearful, and fallen from his
hopes, removed his camp in all haste; he was under the necessity either
to stop before Pydna, and there run the hazard of a battle, or disperse
his army into cities, and there expect the event of the war, which,
having once made its way into his country, could not be driven out
without great slaughter and bloodshed. But Perseus, being told by his
friends that he was much superior in number, and that men fighting in
the defense of their wives and children must needs feel all the more
courage, especially when all was done in the sight of their king, who
himself was engaged in equal danger, was thus again encouraged; and,
pitching his camp, prepared himself to fight, viewed the country, and
gave out the commands, as if he designed to set upon the Romans as soon
as they approached. The place was a field fit for the action of a
phalanx, which requires smooth standing and even ground, and also had
divers little hills, one joining another, fit for the motions whether
in retreat or advance of light troops and skirmishers. Through the
middle ran the rivers Aeson and Leucus, which, though not very deep, it
being the latter end of summer, yet were likely enough to give the
Romans some trouble.
As soon as Aemilius had rejoined Nasica, he advanced in battle array
against the enemy; but when he found how they were drawn up, and the
number of their forces, he regarded them with admiration and surprise,
and halted, considering within himself. The young commanders, eager to
fight, riding along, by his side, pressed him not to delay, and most of
all Nasica, flushed with his late success on Olympus. To whom Aemilius
answered with a smile: "So would I do, were I of your age; but many
victories have taught me the ways in which men are defeated, and forbid
me to engage soldiers weary with a long march, against an army drawn up
and prepared for battle."
Then he gave command that the front of his army, and such as were in
sight of the enemy, should form as if ready to engage, and those in the
rear should cast up the trenches and fortify the camp; so that the
hindmost in succession wheeling off by degrees and withdrawing, their
whole order was insensibly broken up, and the army encamped without
noise or trouble.
When it was night, and, supper being over, all were turning to sleep
and rest, on a sudden the moon, which was then at full and high in the
heavens, grew dark, and by degrees losing her light, passed through
various colors, and at length was totally eclipsed. The Romans,
according to their custom, clattering brass pans and lifting up
firebrands and torches into the air, invoked the return of her light;
the Macedonians behaved far otherwise: terror and amazement seized
their whole army, and a rumor crept by degrees into their camp that
this eclipse portended even that of their king. Aemilius was no novice
in these things, nor was ignorant of the nature of the seeming
irregularities of eclipses, that in a certain revolution of time, the
moon in her course enters the shadow of the earth and is there
obscured, till, passing the region of darkness, she is again
enlightened by the Sun. Yet being a devout man, a religious observer of
sacrifices and the art of divination, as soon as he perceived the moon
beginning to regain her former lustre, he offered up to her eleven
heifers. At the break of day he sacrificed as many as twenty in
succession to Hercules, without any token that his offering was
accepted; but at the one and twentieth, the signs promised victory to
defenders. He then vowed a hecatomb and solemn sports to Hercules, and
commanded his captains to make ready for battle, staying only till the
sun should decline and come round to the west, lest, being in their
faces in the morning, it should dazzle the eyes of his soldiers. Thus
he whiled away the time in his tent, which was open towards the plain
where his enemies were encamped.
When it grew towards evening, some tell us, Aemilius himself used a
stratagem to induce the enemy to begin the fight; that he turned loose
a horse without a bridle, and sent some of the Romans to catch him,
upon whose following the beast, the battle began. Others relate that
the Thracians, under the command of one Alexander, set upon the Roman
beasts of burden that were bringing forage to the camp; that to oppose
these, a party of seven hundred Ligurians were immediately detached;
and that, relief coming still from both armies, the main bodies at last
engaged. Aemilius, like a wise pilot, foreseeing by the present waves
and motion of the armies, the greatness of the following storm, came
out of his tent, went through the legions, and encouraged his soldiers.
Nasica, in the mean time, who had ridden out to the skirmishers, saw
the whole force of the enemy on the point of engaging. First marched
the Thracians, who, he himself tells us, inspired him with most terror;
they were of great stature, with bright and glittering shields and
black frocks under them, their legs armed with greaves, and they
brandished, as they moved, straight and heavily-ironed spears over
their right shoulders. Next the Thracians marched the mercenary
soldiers, armed after different fashions; with these the Paeonians were
mingled. These were succeeded by a third division, of picked men,
native Macedonians, the choicest for courage and strength, in the prime
of life, gleaming with gilt armor and scarlet coats. As these were
taking their places they were followed from the camp by the troops in
phalanx called the Brazen Shields, so that the whole plain seemed alive
with the flashing of steel and the glistening of brass; and the hills
also with their shouts, as they cheered each other on. In this order
they marched, and with such boldness and speed, that those that were
first slain died at but two furlongs distance from the Roman camp.
The battle being begun, Aemilius came in and found that the foremost of
the Macedonians had already fixed the ends of their spears into the
shields of his Romans, so that it was impossible to come near them with
their swords. When he saw this, and observed that the rest of the
Macedonians took the targets that hung on their left shoulders, and
brought them round before them, and all at once stooped their pikes
against their enemies' shields, and considered the great strength of
this wall of shields, and the formidable appearance of a front thus
bristling with arms, he was seized with amazement and alarm; nothing he
had ever seen before had been equal to it; and in after times he
frequently used to speak both of the sight and of his own sensations.
These, however, he dissembled, and rode through his army without either
breast-plate or helmet, with a serene and cheerful countenance.
On the contrary, as Polybius relates, no sooner was the battle begun,
but the Macedonian king basely withdrew to the city Pydna, under a
pretence of sacrificing to Hercules: a God that is not wont to regard
the faint offerings of cowards, or to fulfill unsanctioned vows. For
truly it can hardly be a thing that heaven would sanction, that he that
never shoots should carry away the prize; he triumph that slinks from
the battle; he that takes no pains meet with success, or the wicked man
prosper. But to Aemilius's petitions the god listened; he prayed for
victory with his sword in his hand, and fought while entreating divine
assistance.
A certain Posidonius, who has at some length written a history of
Perseus, and professes to have lived at the time, and to have been
himself engaged in these events, denies that Perseus left the field
either through fear or pretence of sacrificing, but that, the very day
before the fight, he received a kick from a horse on his thigh; that
though very much disabled, and dissuaded by all his friends, he
commanded one of his riding-horses to be brought, and entered the field
unarmed; that amongst an infinite number of darts that flew about on
all sides, one of iron lighted on him, and though not with the point,
yet by a glance struck him with such force on his left side, that it
tore his clothes and so bruised his flesh that the mark remained a long
time after. This is what Posidonius says in defense of Perseus.
The Romans not being able to make a breach in the phalanx, one Salius,
a commander of the Pelignians, snatched the ensign of his company and
threw it amongst the enemies; on seeing which, the Pelignians (as
amongst the Italians it is always thought the greatest breach of honor
to abandon a standard) rushed with great violence towards the place,
where the conflict grew very fierce, and the slaughter terrible on both
sides. For these endeavored to cut the spears asunder with their
swords, or to beat them back with their shields, or put them by with
their hands; and, on the other side, the Macedonians held their long
sarissas in both hands, and pierced those that came in their way quite
through their armor, no shield or corslet being able to resist the
force of that weapon. The Pelignians and Marrucinians were thrown
headlong to the ground, having without consideration, with mere animal
fury, rushed upon a certain death. Their first ranks being slain, those
that were behind were forced to give back; it cannot be said they fled,
but they retreated towards Mount Olocrus. When Aemilius saw this,
Posidonius relates, he rent his clothes, some of his men being ready to
fly, and the rest not willing to engage with a phalanx into which they
could not hope to make any entrance, a sort of palisade, as it were,
impregnable and unapproachable, with its close array of long spears
everywhere meeting the assailant. Nevertheless, the unequalness of the
ground would not permit a widely extended front to be so exactly drawn
up as to have their shields everywhere joined; and Aemilius perceived
that there were a great many interstices and breaches in the Macedonian
phalanx; as it usually happens in all great armies, according to the
different efforts of the combatants, who in one part press forward with
eagerness, and in another are forced to fall back. Taking, therefore,
this occasion, with all speed he broke up his men into their cohorts,
and gave them order to fall into the intervals and openings of the
enemy's body, and not to make one general attack upon them all, but to
engage, as they were divided, in several partial battles. These
commands Aemilius gave to his captains, and they to their soldiers; and
no sooner had they entered the spaces and separated their enemies, but
they charged them, some on their side where they were naked and
exposed, and others, making a circuit, behind; and thus destroyed the
force of the phalanx, which consisted in common action and close union.
And now, come to fight man to man, or in small parties, the Macedonians
smote in vain upon firm and long shields with their little swords,
whilst their slight bucklers were not able to sustain the weight and
force of the Roman swords, which pierced through all their armor to
their bodies; they turned, in fine, and fled.
The conflict was obstinate. And here Marcus, the son of Cato, and son-
in-law of Aemilius, whilst he showed all possible courage, let fall his
sword. Being a young man, carefully brought up and disciplined, and, as
son of so renowned a father, bound to give proof of more than ordinary
virtue, he thought his life but a burden, should he live and permit his
enemies to enjoy this spoil. He hurried hither and thither, and
wherever he espied a friend or companion, declared his misfortune, and
begged their assistance; a considerable number of brave men being thus
collected, with one accord they made their way through their fellows
after their leader, and fell upon the enemy; whom, after a sharp
conflict, many wounds, and much slaughter, they repulsed, possessed the
place that was now deserted and free, and set themselves to search for
the sword, which at last they found covered with a great heap of arms
and dead bodies. Overjoyed with this success, they raised the song of
triumph, and with more eagerness than ever, charged the foes that yet
remained firm and unbroken. In the end, three thousand of the chosen
men, who kept their ground and fought valiantly to the last, were all
cut in pieces, while the slaughter of such as fled was also very great.
The plain and the lower part of the hills were filled with dead bodies,
and the water of the river Leucus, which the Romans did not pass till
the next day after the battle, was then mingled with blood. For it is
said there fell more than twenty-five thousand of the enemy; of the
Romans, as Posidonius relates, a hundred; as Nasica, only fourscore.
This battle, though so great, was very quickly decided, it being three
in the afternoon when they first engaged, and not four when the enemy
was vanquished; the rest of the day was spent in the pursuit of the
fugitives, whom they followed about thirteen or fourteen miles, so that
it was far in the night when they returned.
All the others were met by their servants with torches, and brought
back with joy and great triumph to their tents, which were set out with
lights, and decked with wreaths of ivy and laurel. But the general
himself was in great grief. Of the two sons that served under him in
the war, the youngest was missing, whom he held most dear, and whose
courage and good qualities he perceived much to excel those of his
brothers. Bold and eager for distinction, and still a mere child in
age, he concluded that he had perished, whilst for want of experience
he had engaged himself too far amongst his enemies. His sorrow and
fears became known to the army; the soldiers, quitting their suppers,
ran about with lights, some to Aemilius's tent, some out of the
trenches, to seek him amongst such as were slain in the first onset.
There was nothing but grief in the camp, and the plain was filled with
the cries of men calling out for Scipio; for, from his very youth, he
was an object of admiration; endowed above any of his equals with the
good qualities requisite either for command or counsel. At length, when
it was late, and they almost despaired, he returned from the pursuit
with only two or three of his companions, all covered with the fresh
blood of his enemies, having been, like some dog of noble breed,
carried away by the pleasure, greater than he could control, of his
first victory. This was that Scipio that afterwards destroyed Carthage
and Numantia, and was, without dispute, the first of the Romans in
merit, and had the greatest authority amongst them. Thus Fortune,
deferring her displeasure and jealousy of such great success to some
other time, let Aemilius at present enjoy this victory, without any
detraction or diminution.
As for Perseus, from Pydna he fled to Pella with his cavalry, which was
as yet almost entire. But when the foot came up with them, and,
upbraiding them as cowards and traitors, tried to pull them off their
horses, and fell to blows, Perseus, fearing the tumult, forsook the
common road, and, lest he should be known, pulled off his purple, and
carried it before him, and took his crown in his hand, and, that he
might the better converse with his friends, alighted from his horse and
led him. Of those that were about him, one stopped, pretending to tie
his shoe that was loose, another to water his horse, a third to drink
himself; and thus lagging behind, by degrees left him, they having not
so much reason to fear their enemies, as his cruelty; for he,
disordered by his misfortune, sought to clear himself by laying the
cause of the overthrow upon everybody else. He arrived at Pella in the
night, where Euctus and Eudaeus, two of his treasurers, came to him,
and, what with their reflecting on his former faults, and their free
and ill-timed admonitions and counsels, so exasperated him, that he
killed them both, stabbing them with his own dagger. After this, nobody
stuck to him but Evander the Cretan, Archedemus the Aetolian, and Neon
the Boeotian. Of the common soldiers there followed him only those from
Crete, not out of any good-will, but because they were as constant to
his riches as the bees to their hive. For he carried a great treasure
with him, out of which he had suffered them to take cups, bowls, and
other vessels of silver and gold, to the value of fifty talents. But
when he was come to Amphipolis, and afterwards to Galepsus, and his
fears were a little abated, he relapsed into his old and constitutional
disease of covetousness, and lamented to his friends that he had,
through inadvertency, allowed some gold plate which had belonged to
Alexander the Great to go into the hands of the Cretans, and besought
those that had it, with tears in his eyes, to exchange with him again
for money. Those that understood him thoroughly knew very well he only
played the Cretan with the Cretans, but those that believed him, and
restored what they had, were cheated; as he not only did not pay the
money, but by craft got thirty talents more of his friends into his
hands (which in a short time after fell to the enemy), and with them
sailed to Samothrace, and there fled to the temple of Castor and Pollux
for refuge.
The Macedonians were always accounted great lovers of their kings, but
now, as if their chief prop was broken, they all gave way together, and
submitted to Aemilius, and in two days made him master of their whole
country. This seems to confirm the opinion which ascribes whatever he
did to good fortune. The omen, also, that happened at Amphipolis, has a
supernatural character. When he was sacrificing there, and the holy
rites were just begun, on a sudden, lightning fell upon the altar, set
the wood on fire, and completed the immolation of the sacrifice. The
most signal manifestation, however, of preternatural agency appears in
the story of the rumor of his success. For on the fourth day after
Perseus was vanquished at Pydna, whilst the people at Rome were seeing
the horse-races, a report suddenly arose at the entrance of the theater
that Aemilius had defeated Perseus in a great battle, and was reducing
all Macedonia under his power; and from thence it spread amongst the
people, and created general joy, with shoutings and acclamations for
that whole day through the city. But when no certain author was found
of the news, and every one alike had taken it at random, it was
abandoned for the present and thought no more of, until, a few days
after, certain intelligence came, and then the first was looked upon as
no less than a miracle, having, under an appearance of fiction,
contained what was real and true. It is reported, also, that the news
of the battle fought in Italy, near the river Sagra, was conveyed into
Peloponnesus the same day, and of that at Mycale against the Medes, to
Plataea. When the Romans had defeated the Tarquins, who were combined
with the Latins, a little after, there were seen at Rome two tall and
comely men, who professed to bring the news from the camp. They were
conjectured to be Castor and Pollux. The first man that spoke to them
in the forum, near the fountain where they were cooling their horses,
which were all of a foam, expressed surprise at the report of the
victory, when, it is said, they smiled, and gently touched his beard
with their hands, the hair of which from being black was, on the spot,
changed to yellow. This gave credit to what they said, and fixed the
name of Ahenobarbus, or Brazen-beard, on the man. And a thing which
happened in our own time will make all these credible. For when
Antonius rebelled against Domitian, and Rome was in consternation,
expecting great wars from the quarter of Germany, all on a sudden, and
nobody knows upon what account, the people spontaneously gave out a
rumor of victory, and the news ran current through the city, that
Antonius himself was slain, his whole army destroyed, and not so much
as a part of it escaped; nay, this belief was so strong and positive,
that many of the magistrates offered up sacrifice. But when, at length,
the author was sought for, and none was to be found, it vanished by
degrees, every one shifting it off from himself to another, and, at
last, was lost in the numberless crowd, as in a vast ocean, and, having
no solid ground to support its credit, was, in a short time, not so
much as named in the city. Nevertheless, when Domitian marched out with
his forces to the war, he met with messengers and letters that gave him
a relation of the victory; and the rumor, it was found, had come the
very day it was gained, though the distance between the places was more
than twenty-five hundred miles. The truth of this no man of our time is
ignorant of.
But to proceed. Cnaeus Octavius, who was joined in command with
Aemilius, came to an anchor with his fleet under Samothrace, where, out
of respect to the gods, he permitted Perseus to enjoy the benefit of
refuge, but took care that he should not escape by sea.
Notwithstanding, Perseus secretly persuaded Oroandes of Crete, master
of a small vessel, to convey him and his treasure away. He, however,
playing the true Cretan, took in the treasure, and bade him come, in
the night, with his children and most necessary attendants, to the port
by the temple of Ceres; but, as soon as it was evening, set sail
without him. It had been sad enough for Perseus to be forced to let
down himself, his wife and children, through a narrow window by a wall,
-- people altogether unaccustomed to hardship and flying; but that
which drew a far sadder sigh from his heart was, when he was told by a
man, as he wandered on the shore, that he had seen Oroandes under sail
in the main sea; it being now about daybreak. So, there being no hopes
left of escaping, he fled back again to the wall, which he and his wife
recovered, though they were seen by the Romans, before they could reach
them. His children he himself had delivered into the hands of Ion, one
that had been his favorite, but now proved his betrayer, and was the
chief cause that forced him (beasts themselves will do so when their
young ones are taken) to come and yield himself up to those that had
them in their power. His greatest confidence was in Nasica, and it was
for him he called, but he not being there, he bewailed his misfortune,
and, seeing there was no possible remedy, surrendered himself to
Octavius. And here, in particular, he made it manifest that he was
possessed with a vice more sordid than covetousness itself, namely, the
fondness of life; by which he deprived himself even of pity, the only
thing that fortune never takes away from the most wretched. He desired
to be brought to Aemilius, who arose from his seat, and accompanied
with his friends went to receive him, with tears in his eyes, as a
great man fallen by the anger of the gods and his own ill fortune; when
Perseus -- the most shameful of sights -- threw himself at his feet,
embraced his knees, and uttered unmanly cries and petitions, such as
Aemilius was not able to bear, nor would vouchsafe to hear: but looking
on him with a sad and angry countenance he said, "Why, unhappy man, do
you thus take pains to exonerate fortune of your heaviest charge
against her, by conduct that will make it seem that you are not
unjustly in calamity, and that it is not your present condition, but
your former happiness, that was more than your deserts? And why
depreciate also my victory, and make my conquests insignificant, by
proving yourself a coward, and a foe beneath a Roman? Distressed valor
challenges great respect, even from enemies; but cowardice, though
never so successful, from the Romans has always met with scorn." Yet
for all this he took him up, gave him his hand, and delivered him into
the custody of Tubero. Meantime, he himself carried his sons, his
son-in-law, and others of chief rank, especially of the younger sort,
back with him into his tent, where for a long time he sat down without
speaking one word, insomuch that they all wondered at him. At last, he
began to discourse of fortune and human affairs. "Is it meet," said he,
"for him that knows he is but man, in his greatest prosperity to pride
himself, and be exalted at the conquest of a city, nation, or kingdom,
and not rather well to weigh this change of fortune, in which all
warriors may see an example of their common frailty, and learn a lesson
that there is nothing durable or constant? For what time can men select
to think themselves secure, when that of victory itself forces us more
than any to dread our own fortune? and a very little consideration on
the law of things, and how all are hurried round, and each man's
station changed, will introduce sadness in the midst of the greatest
joy. Or can you, when you see before your eyes the succession of
Alexander himself, who arrived at the height of power and ruled the
greatest empire, in the short space of an hour trodden under foot, --
when you behold a king, that was but even now surrounded with so
numerous an army, receiving nourishment to support his life from the
hands of his conquerors, -- can you, I say, believe there is any
certainty in what we now possess, whilst there is such a thing as
chance? No, young men, cast off that vain pride and empty boast of
victory; sit down with humility, looking always for what is yet to
come, and the possible future reverses which the divine displeasure may
eventually make the end of our present happiness." It is said that
Aemilius, having spoken much more to the same purpose, dismissed the
young men properly humbled, and with their vain-glory and insolence
thoroughly chastened and curbed by his address.
When this was done, he put his army into garrisons, to refresh
themselves, and went himself to visit Greece, and to spend a short time
in relaxations equally honorable and humane. For, as he passed, he
eased the people's grievances, reformed their governments, and bestowed
gifts upon them; to some, corn, to others, oil out of the king's
storehouses, in which, they report, there were such vast quantities
laid up, that receivers and petitioners were lacking before they could
be exhausted. In Delphi he found a great square pillar of white marble,
designed for the pedestal of king Perseus' golden statue, on which he
commanded his own to be placed, alleging that it was but just that the
conquered should give place to the conquerors. In Olympia he is said to
have uttered the saying everybody has heard, that Phidias had carved
Homer's Jupiter. When the ten commissioners arrived from Rome, he
delivered up again to the Macedonians their cities and country,
granting them to live at liberty, and according to their own laws, only
paying the Romans the tribute of a hundred talents, double which sum
they had been wont to pay to their kings. Then he celebrated all manner
of shows and games, and sacrifices to the gods, and made great
entertainments and feasts; the charge of all which he liberally
defrayed out of the king's treasury; and showed that he understood the
ordering and placing of his guests, and how every man should be
received, answerably to their rank and quality, with such nice
exactness, that the Greeks were full of wonder, finding the care of
these matters of pleasure did not escape him, and that though involved
in such important business, he could observe correctness in these
bides. Nor was it least gratifying to him, that, amidst all the
magnificent and splendid preparations, he himself was always the most
grateful sight, and greatest pleasure to those he entertained. And he
told those that seemed to wonder at his diligence, that there was the
same spirit shown in marshaling a banquet as an army; in rendering the
one formidable to the enemy, the other acceptable to the guests. Nor
did men less praise his liberality, and the greatness of his soul, than
his other virtues; for he would not so much as see those great
quantities of silver and gold, which were heaped together out of the
king's palaces, but delivered them to the quaestors, to be put into the
public treasury. He only permitted his own sons, who were great lovers
of learning, to take the king's books; and when he distributed rewards
due to extraordinary valor, he gave his son-in-law, Aelius Tubero, a
bowl that weighed five pounds. This is that Tubero we have already
mentioned, who was one of sixteen relations that lived together, and
were all maintained out of one little farm; and it is said, that this
was the first plate that ever entered the house of the Aelii, brought
thither as an honor and reward of virtue; before this time, neither
they nor their wives ever made use either of silver or gold.
Having thus settled everything well, taking his leave of the Greeks,
and exhorting the Macedonians, that, mindful of the liberty they had
received from the Romans, they should endeavor to maintain it by their
obedience to the laws, and concord amongst themselves, he departed for
Epirus, having orders from the senate, to give the soldiers that
followed him in the war against Perseus the pillage of the cities of
that country. That he might set upon them all at once by surprise and
unawares, he summoned ten of the principal men out of each, whom he
commanded, on such an appointed day, to bring all the gold and silver
they had either in their private houses or temples; and, with every one
of these, as if it were for this very purpose, and under a presence of
searching for and receiving the gold, he sent a centurion and a guard
of soldiers; who, the set day being come, rose all at once, and at the
very self-same time fell upon them, and proceeded to ransack the
cities; so that in one hour a hundred and fifty thousand persons were
made slaves, and threescore and ten cities sacked. Yet what was given
to each soldier, out of so vast a destruction and utter ruin, amounted
to no more than eleven drachmas; so that men could only shudder at the
issue of a war, where the wealth of a whole nation, thus divided,
turned to so little advantage and profit to each particular man.
When Aemilius had done this, -- an action perfectly contrary to his
gentle and mild nature, -- he went down to Oricus, where he embarked
his army for Italy. He sailed up the river Tiber in the king's galley,
that had sixteen banks of oars, and was richly adorned with captured
arms and with cloths of purple and scarlet; so that, the vessel rowing
slowly against the stream, the Romans that crowded on the shore to meet
him had a foretaste of his following triumph. But the soldiers, who had
cast a covetous eye on the treasures of Perseus, when they did not
obtain as much as they thought they deserved, were secretly enraged and
angry with Aemilius for this, but openly complained that he had been a
severe and tyrannical commander over them; nor were they ready to show
their desire of his triumph. When Servius Galba, who was Aemilius's
enemy, though he commanded as tribune under him, understood this, he
had the boldness plainly to affirm that a triumph was not to be allowed
him; and sowed various calumnies amongst the soldiers, which yet
further increased their ill-will. Nay more, he desired the tribunes of
the people, because the four hours that were remaining of the day could
not suffice for the accusation, to let him put it off till another. But
when the tribunes commanded him to speak then, if he had anything to
say, he began a long oration, filled with all manner of reproaches, in
which he spent the remaining part of the time, and the tribunes, when
it was dark, dismissed the assembly. The soldiers, growing more
vehement on this, thronged all to Galba, and entering into a
conspiracy, early in the morning beset the capitol, where the tribunes
had appointed the following assembly to be held.
As soon as it was day, it was put to the vote, and the first tribe was
proceeding to refuse the triumph; and the news spread amongst the
people and to the senate. The people were indeed much grieved that
Aemilius should meet with such ignominy; but this was only in words,
which had no effect. The chief of the senate exclaimed against it as a
base action, and excited one another to repress the boldness and
insolence of the soldiers, which would erelong become altogether
ungovernable and violent, were they now permitted to deprive Aemilius
of his triumph. Forcing a passage through the crowd, they came up in
great numbers, and desired the tribunes to defer polling, till they had
spoken what they had to say to the people. All things thus suspended,
and silence being made, Marcus Servilius stood up, a man of consular
dignity, and who had killed twenty-three of his enemies that had
challenged him in single combat. "It is now more than ever," said he,
"clear to my mind how great a commander our Aemilius Paulus is, when I
see he was able to perform such famous and great exploits with an army
so full of sedition and baseness; nor can I sufficiently wonder, that a
people that seemed to glory in the triumphs over Illyrians and
Ligurians, should now through envy refuse to see the Macedonian king
led alive, and all the glory of Philip and Alexander in captivity to
the Roman power. For is it not a strange thing for you who, upon a
slight rumor of victory that came by chance into the city, did offer
sacrifices and put up your requests unto the gods that you might see
the report verified, now, when the general is returned with an
undoubted conquest, to defraud the gods of honor, and yourselves of
joy, as if you feared to behold the greatness of his warlike deed, or
were resolved to spare your enemy? And of the two, much better were it
to put a stop to the triumph, out of pity to him, than out of envy to
your general; yet to such a height of power is malice arrived amongst
you, that a man without one scar to show on his skin, that is smooth
and sleek with ease and home-keeping habits, will undertake to define
the office and duties of a general before us, who with our own wounds
have been taught how to judge of the valor or the cowardice of
commanders." And, at the same time, putting aside his garment, he
showed an infinite number of scars upon his breast, and, turning about,
he exposed some parts of his person which it is usual to conceal; and,
addressing Galba, said: "You deride me for these, in which I glory
before my fellow-citizens, for it is in their service, in which I have
ridden night and day, that I received them; but go collect the votes,
whilst I follow after, and note the base and ungrateful, and such as
choose rather to be flattered and courted than commanded by their
general." It is said, this speech so stopped the soldiers' mouths, and
altered their minds, that all the tribes decreed a triumph for
Aemilius; which was performed after this manner.
The people erected scaffolds in the Forum, in the circuses, as they
call their buildings for horse-races, and in all other parts of the
city where they could best behold the show. The spectators were clad in
white garments; all the temples were open, and full of garlands and
perfumes; the ways were cleared and kept open by numerous officers, who
drove back all who crowded into or ran across the main avenue. This
triumph lasted three days. On the first, which was scarcely long enough
for the sight, were to be seen the statues, pictures, and colossal
images, which were taken from the enemy, drawn upon two hundred and
fifty chariots. On the second, was carried in a great many wagons the
finest and richest armor of the Macedonians, both of brass and steel,
all newly polished and glittering; the pieces of which were piled up
and arranged purposely with the greatest art, so as to seem to be
tumbled in heaps carelessly and by chance; helmets were thrown upon
shields, coats of mail upon greaves; Cretan targets, and Thracian
bucklers and quivers of arrows, lay huddled amongst horses' bits, and
through these there appeared the points of naked swords, intermixed
with long Macedonian sarissas. All these arms were fastened together
with just so much looseness that they struck against one another as
they were drawn along, and made a harsh and alarming noise, so that,
even as spoils of a conquered enemy, they could not be beheld without
dread. After these wagons loaded with armor, there followed three
thousand men who carried the silver that was coined, in seven hundred
and fifty vessels, each of which weighed three talents, and was carried
by four men. Others brought silver bowls and goblets and cups, all
disposed in such order as to make the best show, and all curious as
well for their size as the solidity of their embossed work.
On the third day, early in the morning, first came the trumpeters, who
did not sound as they were wont in a procession or solemn entry, but
such a charge as the Romans use when they encourage the soldiers to
fight. Next followed young men wearing frocks with ornamented borders,
who led to the sacrifice a hundred and twenty stalled oxen, with their
horns gilded, and their heads adorned with ribbons and garlands; and
with these were boys that carried basins for libation, of silver and
gold. After this was brought the gold coin, which was divided into
vessels that weighed three talents, like those that contained the
silver; they were in number seventy-seven. These were followed by those
that brought the consecrated bowl which Aemilius had caused to be made,
that weighed ten talents, and was set with precious stones. Then were
exposed to view the cups of Antigonus and Seleucus, and those of the
Thericlean make, and all the gold plate that was used at Perseus'
table. Next to these came Perseus' chariot, in which his armor was
placed, and on that his diadem. And, after a little intermission, the
king's children were led captives, and with them a train of their
attendants, masters, and teachers, all shedding tears, and stretching
out hands to the spectators, and making the children themselves also
beg and entreat their compassion. There were two sons and a daughter,
whose tender age made them but little sensible of the greatness of
their misery, which very insensibility of their condition rendered it
the more deplorable; insomuch that Perseus himself was scarcely
regarded as he went along, whilst pity fixed the eyes of the Romans
upon the infants; and many of them could not forbear tears, and all
beheld the sight with a mixture of sorrow and pleasure, until the
children were passed.
After his children and their attendants came Perseus himself, clad all
in black, and wearing the boots of his country; and looking like one
altogether stunned and deprived of reason, through the greatness of his
misfortunes. Next followed a great company of his friends and
familiars, whose countenances were disfigured with grief, and who let
the spectators see, by their tears and their continual looking upon
Perseus, that it was his fortune they so much lamented, and that they
were regardless of their own. Perseus sent to Aemilius to entreat that
he might not be led in pomp, but be left out of the triumph; who,
deriding, as was but just, his cowardice and fondness of life, sent him
this answer, that as for that, it had been before, and was now, in his
own power; giving him to understand that the disgrace could be avoided
by death; which the fainthearted man not having the spirit for, and
made effeminate by I know not what hopes, allowed himself to appear as
a part of his own spoils. After these were carried four hundred crowns,
all made of gold, sent from the cities by their respective deputations
to Aemilius, in honor of his victory. Then he himself came, seated on a
chariot magnificently adorned (a man well worthy to be looked at, even
without these ensigns of power), dressed in a robe of purple,
interwoven with gold, and holding a laurel branch in his right hand.
All the army, in like manner, with boughs of laurel in their hands,
divided into their bands and companies, followed the chariot of their
commander; some singing verses, according to the usual custom, mingled
with raillery; others, songs of triumph, and the praise of Aemilius's
deeds; who, indeed, was admired and accounted happy by all men, and
unenvied by every one that was good; except so far as it seems the
province of some god to lessen that happiness which is too great and
inordinate, and so to mingle the affairs of human life that no one
should be entirely free and exempt from calamities; but, as we read in
Homer, that those should think themselves truly blessed to whom fortune
has given an equal share of good and evil.
Aemilius had four sons, of whom Scipio and Fabius, as is already
related, were adopted into other families; the other two, whom he had
by a second wife, and who were yet but young, he brought up in his own
house. One of these died at fourteen years of age, five days before his
father's triumph; the other at twelve, three days after: so that there
was no Roman without a deep sense of his suffering, and who did not
shudder at the cruelty of fortune, that had not scrupled to bring so
much sorrow into a house replenished with happiness, rejoicing, and
sacrifices, and to intermingle tears and laments with songs of victory
and triumph.
Aemilius, however, reasoning justly that courage and resolution was not
merely to resist armor and spears, but all the shocks of ill fortune,
so met and so adapted himself to these mingled and contrasting
circumstances, as to outbalance the evil with the good, and his private
concerns with those of the public; and thus did not allow anything
either to take away from the grandeur, or sully the dignity of his
victory. For as soon as he had buried the first of his sons, (as we
have already said,) he triumphed; and the second dying almost as soon
as his triumph was over, he gathered together an assembly of the
people, and made an oration to them, not like a man that stood in need
of comfort from others, but one that undertook to support his
fellow-citizens in their grief for the sufferings he himself underwent.
"I," he said, "who never yet feared anything that was human, have,
amongst such as were divine, always had a dread of fortune as faithless
and inconstant; and, for the very reason that in this war she had been
as a favorable gale in all my affairs, I still expected some change and
reflux of things. In one day I passed the Ionian sea, and reached
Corcyra from Brundisium; thence in five more I sacrificed at Delphi,
and in other five days came to my forces in Macedonia, where, after I
had finished the usual sacrifices for the purifying of the army, I
entered on my duties, and, in the space of fifteen days, put an
honorable period to the war. Still retaining a jealousy of fortune,
even from the smooth current of my affairs, and seeing myself secure
and free from the danger of any enemy, I chiefly dreaded the change of
the goddess at sea, whilst conveying home my victorious army, vast
spoils, and a captive king. Nay, indeed, after I was returned to you
safe, and saw the city full of joy, congratulating, and sacrifices, yet
still I distrusted, well knowing that fortune never conferred any great
benefits that were unmixed and unattended with probabilities of
reverse. Nor could my mind, that was still as it were in labor, and
always foreseeing something to befall this city, free itself from this
fear, until this great misfortune befell me in my own family, and till,
in the midst of those days set apart for triumph, I carried two of the
best of sons, my only destined successors, one after another to their
funerals. Now, therefore, I am myself safe from danger, at least as to
what was my greatest care; and I trust and am verily persuaded, that
for the time to come Fortune will prove constant and harmless unto you;
since she has sufficiently wreaked her jealousy at our great successes
on me and mine, and has made the conqueror as marked an example of
human instability as the captive whom he led in triumph, with this only
difference, that Perseus, though conquered, does yet enjoy his
children, while the conqueror, Aemilius, is deprived of his." This was
the generous and magnanimous oration Aemilius is said to have spoken to
the people, from a heart truly sincere and free from all artifice.
Although he very much pitied the condition of Perseus, and studied to
befriend him in what he was able, yet he could procure no other favor,
than his removal from the common prison, the Carcer, into a more
cleanly and humane place of security, where, whilst he was guarded, it
is said, he starved himself to death. Others state his death to have
been of the strangest and most unusual character: that the soldiers who
were his guard, having conceived a spite and hatred against him for
some reason, and finding no other way to grieve and afflict him, kept
him from sleep, took pains to disturb him when he was disposed to rest,
and found out contrivances to keep him continually awake, by which
means at length he was utterly worn out, and expired. Two of his
children, also, died soon after him; the third, who was named
Alexander, they say proved an exquisite artist in turning and graving
small figures, and learned so perfectly to speak and write the Roman
language, that he became clerk to the magistrates, and behaved himself
in his office with great skill and conduct.
They ascribe to Aemilius's conquest of Macedonia, this most acceptable
benefit to the people, that he brought so vast a quantity of money into
the public treasury, that they never paid any taxes, until Hirtius and
Pansa were consuls, which was in the first war between Antony and
Caesar. This also was peculiar and remarkable in Aemilius, that though
he was extremely beloved and honored by the people, yet he always sided
with the nobles; nor would he either say or do anything to ingratiate
himself with the multitude, but constantly adhered to the nobility, in
all political matters, which in after-times was cast in Scipio
Africanus's teeth by Appius; these two being in their time the most
considerable men in the city, and standing in competition for the
office of censor. The one had on his side the nobles and the senate, to
which party the Appii were always attached; the other, although his own
interest was great, yet made use of the favor and love of the people.
When, therefore, Appius saw Scipio come to the market-place, surrounded
with men of mean rank, and such as were but newly made free, yet were
very fit to manage a debate, to gather together the rabble, and to
carry whatsoever they designed by importunity and noise, crying out
with a loud voice: "Groan now," said he, "O Aemilius Paulus, if you
have knowledge in your grave of what is done above, that your son
aspires to be censor, by the help of Aemilius, the common crier, and
Licinius Philonicus." Scipio always had the good-will of the people,
because he was constantly heaping favors on them; but Aemilius,
although he still took part with the nobles, yet was as much the
people's favorite as those who most sought popularity and used every
art to obtain it. This they made manifest, when, amongst other
dignities, they thought him worthy of the office of censor, a trust
accounted most sacred and of great authority, as well in other things,
as in the strict examination into men's lives. For the censors had
power to expel a senator, and enroll whom they judged most fit in his
room, and to disgrace such young men as lived licentiously, by taking
away their horses. Besides this, they were to value and assess each
man's estate, and register the number of the people. There were
numbered by Aemilius, 337,452 men. He declared Marcus Aemilius Lepidus
first senator, who had already four times held that honor, and he
removed from their office three of the senators of the least note. The
same moderation he and his fellow censor, Marcius Philippus, used at
the muster of the knights.
Whilst he was thus busy about many and weighty affairs, he fell sick of
a disease, which at first seemed hazardous; and although after awhile
it proved without danger, yet was troublesome and difficult to be
cured: so that by the advice of his physicians he sailed to Velia, in
South Italy, and there dwelt a long time near the sea, where he enjoyed
all possible quietness. The Romans, in the meanwhile, longed for his
return, and oftentimes by their expressions in the theaters, gave
public testimony of their great desire and impatience to see him. When,
therefore, the time drew nigh that a solemn sacrifice was of necessity
to be offered, and he found, as he thought, his body strong enough, he
came back again to Rome, and there performed the holy rites with the
rest of the priests, the people in the mean time crowding about him,
and congratulating his return. The next day he sacrificed again to the
gods for his recovery; and, having finished the sacrifice, returned to
his house and sat down to dinner, when, all on a sudden and when no
change was expected, he fell into a fit of delirium, and, being quite
deprived of his senses, the third day after ended a life, in which he
had wanted no manner of thing which is thought to conduce to happiness.
Nay, his very funeral pomp had something in it remarkable and to be
admired, and his virtue was graced with the most solemn and happy rites
at his burial; consisting, not in gold and ivory, or in the usual
sumptuousness and splendor of such preparations, but in the good-will,
honor, and love, not only of his fellow-citizens, but of his enemies
themselves. For as many Spaniards, Ligurians, and Macedonians, as
happened to be present at the solemnity, that were young and of
vigorous bodies, took up the bier and carried it whilst the more aged
followed, calling Aemilius the benefactor and preserver of their
countries. For not only at the time of his conquest had he acted to all
with kindness and clemency, but, through the whole course of his life,
he continued to do them good and look after their concerns, as if they
had been his familiars and relations. They report, that the whole of
his estate scarce amounted to three hundred and seventy thousand
drachmas; to which he left his two sons coheirs; but Scipio, who was
the youngest, being adopted into the more wealthy family of Africanus,
gave it all to his brother. Such are said to have been the life and
manners of Aemilius.
COMPARISON OF TIMOLEON WITH AEMILIUS PAULUS
Such being the story of these two great men's lives, without doubt in
the comparison very little difference will be found between them. They
made war with two powerful enemies: the one against the Macedonians,
and the other with the Carthaginians; and the success was in both cases
glorious. One conquered Macedon from the seventh succeeding heir of
Antigonus; the other freed Sicily from usurping tyrants, and restored
the island to its former liberty. Unless, indeed, it be made a point on
Aemilius's side, that he engaged with Perseus when his forces were
entire, and composed of men that had often successfully fought with the
Romans; whereas, Timoleon found Dionysius in a despairing condition,
his affairs being reduced to the last extremity: or, on the contrary,
it be urged in favor of Timoleon, that he vanquished several tyrants,
and a powerful Carthaginian army, with an inconsiderable number of men
gathered together from all parts, not with such an army as Aemilius
had, of well disciplined soldiers, experienced in war, and accustomed
to obey; but with such as through the hopes of gain resorted to him,
unskilled in fighting and ungovernable. And when actions are equally
glorious, and the means to compass them unequal, the greatest esteem is
certainly due to that general who conquers with the smaller power.
Both have the reputation of having behaved themselves with an
uncorrupted integrity, in all the affairs they managed: but Aemilius
had the advantage of being, from his infancy, by the laws and customs
of his country, brought up to the proper management of public affairs,
which Timoleon brought himself to by his own efforts. And this is
plain; for at that time all the Romans were uniformly orderly and
obedient, respectful to the laws and to their fellow-citizens: whereas
it is remarkable, that not one of the Greek generals commanding in
Sicily, could keep himself uncorrupted, except Dion, and of him many
entertained a jealousy that he would establish a monarchy there, after
the Lacedaemonian manner. Timaeus writes, that the Syracusans sent even
Gylippus home dishonorably, and with a reputation lost by the
unsatiable covetousness he displayed when he commanded the army. And
numerous historians tell us of the wicked and perfidious acts committed
by Pharax the Spartan, and Callippus the Athenian, with the view of
making themselves kings of Sicily. Yet what were these men, and what
strength had they, to entertain such a thought? The first of them was a
follower of Dionysius, when he was expelled from Syracuse, and the
other a hired captain of foot under Dion, and came into Sicily with
him. But Timoleon at the request and prayers of the Syracusans, was
sent to be their general, and had no need to seek for power, but had a
perfect title, founded on their own offers, to hold it; and yet no
sooner had he freed Sicily from her oppressors, but he willingly
surrendered it.
It is truly worthy our admiration in Aemilius, that, though he
conquered so great and so rich a realm as that of Macedon, yet he would
not touch, nor see any of the money, nor did he advantage himself one
farthing by it, though he was very generous of his own to others. I
would not intend any reflection on Timoleon, for accepting of a house
and handsome estate in the country, which the Syracusans presented him
with; there is no dishonor in accepting; but yet there is greater glory
in a refusal, and the supremest virtue is shown in not wanting what it
might fairly take. And as that body is, without doubt, the most strong
and healthful, which can the easiest support extreme cold and excessive
heat in the change of seasons, and that the most firm and collected
mind which is not puffed up with prosperity, nor dejected with
adversity; so the virtue of Aemilius was eminently seen in his
countenance and behavior continuing as noble and lofty upon the loss of
two dear sons, as when he achieved his greatest victories and triumphs.
But Timoleon, after he had justly punished his brother, a truly heroic
action, let his reason yield to a causeless sorrow, and, humiliated
with grief and remorse, forbore for twenty years to appear in any
public place, or meddle with any affairs of the commonwealth. It is
truly very commendable to abhor and shun the doing any base action; but
to stand in fear of every kind of censure or disrepute, may argue a
gentle and open-hearted, but not a heroic temper.
PELOPIDAS
Cato Major, hearing some commend one that was rash, and inconsiderately
daring in a battle, said, "There is a difference between a man's
prizing valor at a great rate, and valuing life at little;" a very just
remark. Antigonus, we know, at least, had a soldier, a venturous
fellow, but of wretched health and constitution; the reason of whose
ill looks he took the trouble to inquire into; and, on understanding
from him that it was a disease, commanded his physicians to employ
their utmost skill, and if possible recover him; which brave hero, when
once cured, never afterwards sought danger or showed himself venturous
in battle; and, when Antigonus wondered and upbraided him with his
change, made no secret of the reason, and said, "Sir, you are the cause
of my cowardice, by freeing me from those miseries which made me care
little for life." With the same feeling, the Sybarite seems to have
said of the Spartans, that it was no commendable thing in them to be so
ready to die in the wars, since by that they were freed from such hard
labor, and miserable living. In truth, the Sybarites, a soft and
dissolute people, might very well imagine they hated life, because in
their eager pursuit of virtue and glory, they were not afraid to die:
but, in fact, the Lacedaemonians found their virtue secured them
happiness alike in living or in dying; as we see in the epitaph that
says:
They died, but not as lavish of their blood, Or thinking death itself
was simply good; Their wishes neither were to live nor die, But to do
both alike commendably.
An endeavor to avoid death is not blamable, if we do not basely desire
to live; nor a willingness to die good and virtuous, if it proceeds
from a contempt of life. And therefore Homer always takes care to bring
his bravest and most daring heroes well armed into battle; and the
Greek lawgivers punished those that threw away their shields, but not
him that lost his sword or spear; intimating that self-defense is more
a man's business than offense. This is especially true of a governor of
a city, or a general; for if, as Iphicrates divides it out, the
light-armed are the hands; the horse the feet; the infantry the breast;
and the general the head; he, when he puts himself upon danger, not
only ventures his own person, but all those whose safety depends on
his; and so on the contrary. Callicratidas, therefore, though otherwise
a great man, was wrong in his answer to the augur who advised him, the
sacrifice being unlucky, to be careful of his life; "Sparta," said he,
"will not miss one man." It was true, Callicratidas, when simply
serving in any engagement either at sea or land, was but a single
person, but as general, he united in his life the lives of all, and
could hardly be called one, when his death involved the ruin of so
many. The saying of old Antigonus was better, who, when he was to fight
at Andros, and one told him, "The enemy's ships are more than ours;"
replied, "For how many then wilt thou reckon me?" intimating that a
brave and experienced commander is to be highly valued, one of the
first duties of whose office indeed it is to save him on whose safety
depends that of others. And therefore I applaud Timotheus, who, when
Chares showed the wounds he had received, and his shield pierced by a
dart, told him, "Yet how ashamed I was, at the siege of Samos, when a
dart fell near me, for exposing myself, more like a boy than like a
general in command of a large army. "Indeed, where the general's
hazarding himself will go far to decide the result, there he must fight
and venture his person, and not mind their maxims, who would have a
general die, if not of, at least in old age; but when the advantage
will be but small if he gets the better, and the loss considerable if
he falls, who then would desire, at the risk of the commander's life, a
piece of success which a common soldier might obtain? This I thought
fit to premise before the lives of Pelopidas and Marcellus, who were
both great men, but who both fell by their own rashness. For, being
gallant men, and having gained their respective countries great glory
and reputation by their conduct in war against terrible enemies, the
one, as history relates, overthrowing Hannibal, who was till then
invincible; the other, in a set battle beating the Lacedaemonians, then
supreme both at sea and land; they ventured at last too far, and were
heedlessly prodigal of their lives, when there was the greatest need of
men and commanders such as they. And this agreement in their characters
and their deaths, is the reason why I compare their lives.
Pelopidas, the son of Hippoclus, was descended, as likewise Epaminondas
was, from an honorable family in Thebes; and, being brought up to
opulence, and having a fair estate left him whilst he was young, he
made it his business to relieve the good and deserving amongst the
poor, that he might show himself lord and not slave of his estate. For
amongst men, as Aristotle observes, some are too narrow-minded to use
their wealth, and some are loose and abuse it; and these live perpetual
slaves to their pleasures, as the others to their gain. Others
permitted themselves to be obliged by Pelopidas, and thankfully made
use of his liberality and kindness; but amongst all his friends, he
could never persuade Epaminondas to be a sharer in his wealth. He,
however, stepped down into his poverty, and took pleasure in the same
poor attire, spare diet, unwearied endurance of hardships, and
unshrinking boldness in war: like Capaneus in Euripides, who had
Abundant wealth and in that wealth no pride;
he was ashamed any one should think that he spent more upon his person
than the meanest Theban. Epaminondas made his familiar and hereditary
poverty more light and easy, by his philosophy and single life; but
Pelopidas married a woman of good family, and had children; yet still
thinking little of his private interests, and devoting all his time to
the public, he ruined his estate: and, when his friends admonished and
told him how necessary that money which he neglected was; "Yes," he
replied, "necessary to Nicodemus," pointing to a blind cripple.
Both seemed equally fitted by nature for all sorts of excellence; but
bodily exercises chiefly delighted Pelopidas, learning Epaminondas; and
the one spent his spare hours in hunting, and the Palaestra, the other
in hearing lectures or philosophizing. And, amongst a thousand points
for praise in both, the judicious esteem nothing equal to that constant
benevolence and friendship, which they inviolably preserved in all
their expeditions, public actions, and administration of the
commonwealth. For if any one looks on the administrations of Aristides
and Themistocles, of Cimon and Pericles, of Nicias and Alcibiades, what
confusion, what envy, what mutual jealousy appears? And if he then
casts his eye on the kindness and reverence that Pelopidas showed
Epaminondas, he must needs confess, that these are more truly and more
justly styled colleagues in government and command than the others, who
strove rather to overcome one another, than their enemies The true
cause of this was their virtue; whence it came that they did not make
their actions aim at wealth and glory, an endeavor sure to lead to
bitter and contentious jealousy; but both from the beginning being
inflamed with a divine desire of seeing their country glorious by their
exertions, they used to that end one another's excellences as their
own. Many, indeed, think this strict and entire affection is to be
dated from the battle at Mantinea, where they both fought, being part
of the succors that were sent from Thebes to the Lacedaemonians, their
then friends and allies. For, being placed together amongst the
infantry, and engaging the Arcadians, when the Lacedaemonian wing, in
which they fought, gave ground, and many fled, they closed their
shields together and resisted the assailants. Pelopidas, having
received seven wounds in the forepart of his body, fell upon a heap of
slain friends and enemies; but Epaminondas, though he thought him past
recovery, advanced to defend his arms and body, and singly fought a
multitude, resolving rather to die than forsake his helpless Pelopidas.
And now, he being much distressed, being wounded in the breast by a
spear, and in the arm by a sword, Agesipolis, the king of the Spartans,
came to his succor from the other wing, and beyond hope delivered both.
After this the Lacedaemonians pretended to be friends to Thebes, but in
truth looked with jealous suspicions on the designs and power of the
city, and chiefly hated the party of Ismenias and Androclides, in which
Pelopidas also was an associate, as tending to liberty, and the
advancement of the commonalty. Therefore Archias, Leontidas, and
Philip, all rich men, and of oligarchical principles, and immoderately
ambitious, urged Phoebidas the Spartan, as he was on his way past the
city with a considerable force, to surprise the Cadmea, and, banishing
the contrary faction, to establish an oligarchy, and by that means
subject the city to the supremacy of the Spartans. He, accepting the
proposal, at the festival of Ceres unexpectedly fell on the Thebans,
and made himself master of the citadel. Ismenias was taken, carried to
Sparta, and in a short time murdered; but Pelopidas, Pherenicus,
Androclides, and many more that fled were publicly proclaimed outlaws.
Epaminondas stayed at home, being not much looked after, as one whom
philosophy had made inactive, and poverty incapable.
The Lacedaemonians cashiered Phoebidas, and fined him one hundred
thousand drachmas, yet still kept a garrison in the Cadmea; which made
all Greece wonder at their inconsistency, since they punished the doer,
but approved the deed. And though the Thebans, having lost their
polity, and being enslaved by Archias and Leontidas, had no hopes to
get free from this tyranny, which they saw guarded by the whole
military power of the Spartans, and had no means to break the yoke,
unless these could be deposed from their command of sea and land; yet
Leontidas and his associates, understanding that the exiles lived at
Athens in favor with the people, and with honor from all the good and
virtuous, formed secret designs against their lives, and, suborning
some unknown fellows, dispatched Androclides, but were not successful
on the rest. Letters, besides, were sent from Sparta to the Athenians,
warning them neither to receive nor countenance the exiles, but expel
them as declared common enemies of the confederacy. But the Athenians,
from their natural hereditary inclination to be kind, and also to make
a grateful return to the Thebans, who had very much assisted them in
restoring their democracy, and had publicly enacted, that if any
Athenian would march armed through Boeotia against the tyrants, that no
Boeotian should either see or hear it, did the Thebans no harm.
Pelopidas, though one of the youngest, was active in privately exciting
each single exile; and often told them at their meetings, that it was
both dishonorable and impious to neglect their enslaved and
engarrisoned country, and, lazily contented with their own lives and
safety, depend on the decrees of the Athenians, and through fear fawn
on every smooth-tongued orator that was able to work upon the people:
now they must venture for this great prize, taking Thrasybulus' bold
courage for example, and as he advanced from Thebes and broke the power
of the Athenian tyrants, so they should march from Athens and free
Thebes. When by this method he had persuaded them, they privately
dispatched some persons to those friends they had left at Thebes, and
acquainted them with their designs. Their plans being approved, Charon,
a man of the greatest distinction, offered his house for their
reception; Phillidas contrived to get himself made secretary to Archias
and Philip, who then held the office of polemarch or chief captain; and
Epaminondas had already inflamed the youth. For, in their exercises, he
had encouraged them to challenge and wrestle with the Spartans, and
again, when he saw them puffed up with victory and success, sharply
told them, it was the greater shame to be such cowards as to serve
those whom in strength they so much excelled.
The day for action being fixed, it was agreed upon by the exiles, that
Pherenicus with the rest should stay in the Thriasian plain, while some
few of the younger men tried the first danger, by endeavoring to get
into the city; and, if they were surprised by their enemies, the others
should take care to provide for their children and parents. Pelopidas
first offered to undertake the business; then Melon, Damoclides, and
Theopompus, men of noble families, who, in other things loving and
faithful to one another, were constant rivals only in glory and
courageous exploits. They were twelve in all, and having taken leave of
those that stayed behind, and sent a messenger to Charon, they went
forward, clad in short coats, and carrying hounds and hunting poles
with them, that they might be taken for hunters beating over the
fields, and prevent all suspicion in those that met them on the way.
When the messenger came to Charon, and told him they were approaching,
he did not change his resolution at the sight of danger, but, being a
man of his word, offered them his house. But one Hipposthenidas, a man
of no ill principles, a lover of his country, and a friend to the
exiles, but not of as much resolution as the shortness of time and the
character of the action required, being as it were dizzied at the
greatness of the approaching enterprise; and beginning now for the
first time to comprehend that, relying on that weak assistance which
could be expected from the exiles, they were undertaking no less a task
than to shake the government, and overthrow the whole power of Sparta;
went privately to his house, and sent a friend to Melon and Pelopidas,
desiring them to forbear for the present, to return to Athens and
expect a better opportunity. The messenger's name was Chlidon, who,
going home in haste and bringing out his horse, asked for the bridle;
but, his wife not knowing where it was, and, when it could not be
found, telling him she had lent it to a friend, first they began to
chide, then to curse one another, and his wife wished the journey might
prove ill to him, and those that sent him; insomuch that Chlidon's
passion made him waste a great part of the day in this quarreling, and
then, looking on this chance as an omen, he laid aside all thoughts of
his journey, and went away to some other business. So nearly had these
great and glorious designs, even in their very birth, lost their
opportunity.
But Pelopidas and his companions, dressing themselves like countrymen,
divided, and, whilst it was yet day, entered at different quarters of
the city. It was, besides, a windy day, and it now just began to snow,
which contributed much to their concealment, because most people were
gone in doors to avoid the weather. Those, however, that were concerned
in the design, received them as they came, and conducted them to
Charon's house, where the exiles and the others made up forty-eight in
number. The tyrants' affairs stood thus: the secretary, Phillidas, as I
have already observed, was an accomplice in, and privy to all the
contrivance of the exiles, and he a while before had invited Archias,
with others, to an entertainment on that day, to drink freely, and meet
some women of the town, on purpose that when they were drunk, and given
up to their pleasures, he might deliver them over to the conspirators.
But before Archias was thoroughly heated, notice was given him that the
exiles were privately in the town; a true report indeed, but obscure,
and not well confirmed: nevertheless, though Phillidas endeavored to
divert the discourse, Archias sent one of his guard to Charon, and
commanded him to attend immediately. It was evening, and Pelopidas and
his friends with him in the house, were putting themselves into a fit
posture for action, having their breastplates on already, and their
swords girt: but at the sudden knocking at the door, one stepping forth
to inquire the matter, and learning from the officer that Charon was
sent for by the polemarchs, returned in great confusion and acquainted
those within; and all immediately conjectured that the whole plot was
discovered, and they should be cut in pieces, before so much as
achieving any action to do credit to their bravery; yet all agreed that
Charon should obey, and attend the polemarchs, to prevent suspicion.
Charon was, indeed, a man of courage and resolution in all dangers, yet
in this case he was extremely concerned, lest any should suspect that
he was the traitor, and the death of so many brave citizens be laid on
him. And, therefore, when he was ready to depart, he brought his son
out of the women's apartment, a little boy as yet, but one of the best
looking and strongest of all those of his age, and delivered him to
Pelopidas with these words: "If you find me a traitor, treat this boy
as an enemy without any mercy." The concern which Charon showed, drew
tears from many; but all protested vehemently against his supposing any
one of them so mean-spirited and base, at the appearance of approaching
danger, as to suspect or blame him; and therefore, desired him not to
involve his son, but to set him out of harm's way; that so he, perhaps,
escaping the tyrant's power, might live to revenge the city and his
friends. Charon, however, refused to remove him, and asked, "What life,
what safety could be more honorable, than to die bravely with his
father, and such generous companions?" Thus, imploring the protection
of the gods, and saluting and encouraging them all, he departed,
considering with himself, and composing his voice and countenance, that
he might look as little like as possible to what in fact he really was.
When he was come to the door, Archias with Phillidas came out to him,
and said, "I have heard, Charon, that there are some men just come, and
lurking in the town, and that some of the citizens are resorting to
them." Charon was at first disturbed, but asking, "Who are they? and
who conceals them?" and finding Archias did not thoroughly understand
the matter, he concluded that none of those privy to the design had
given this information, and replied, "Do not disturb yourselves for an
empty rumor: I will look into it, however, for no report in such a case
is to be neglected." Phillidas, who stood by, commended him, and
leading back Archias, got him deep in drink, still prolonging the
entertainment with the hopes of the women's company at last. But when
Charon returned, and found the men prepared, not as if they hoped for
safety and success, but to die bravely and with the slaughter of their
enemies, he told Pelopidas and his friends the truth, but pretended to
others in the house that Archias talked to him about something else,
inventing a story for the occasion. This storm was just blowing over,
when fortune brought another; for a messenger came with a letter from
one Archias, the Hierophant at Athens, to his namesake Archias, who was
his friend and guest. This did not merely contain a vague conjectural
suspicion, but, as appeared afterwards, disclosed every particular of
the design. The messenger being brought in to Archias, who was now
pretty well drunk, and delivering the letter, said to him, "The writer
of this desired it might be read at once; it is on urgent business."
Archias, with a smile, replied, "Urgent business tomorrow," and so
receiving the letter, he put it under his pillow, and returned to what
he had been speaking of with Phillidas; and these words of his are a
proverb to this day amongst the Greeks.
Now when the opportunity seemed convenient for action, they set out in
two companies; Pelopidas and Damoclides with their party went against
Leontidas and Hypates, that lived near together; Charon and Melon
against Archias and Philip, having put on women's apparel over their
breastplates, and thick garlands of fir and pine to shade their faces;
and so, as soon as they came to the door, the guests clapped and gave a
huzza, supposing them to be the women they expected. But when the
conspirators had looked about the room, and carefully marked all that
were at the entertainment, they drew their swords, and making at
Archias and Philip amongst the tables, disclosed who they were.
Phillidas persuaded some few of his guests to sit still, and those that
got up and endeavored to assist the polemarchs, being drunk were easily
dispatched. But Pelopidas and his party met with a harder task; as they
attempted Leontidas, a sober and formidable man, and when they came to
his house found his doors shut, he being already gone to bed. They
knocked a long time before any one would answer, but, at last, a
servant that heard them, coming out and unbarring the door, as soon as
the gate gave way, they rushed in, and, overturning the man, made all
haste to Leontidas's chamber. But Leontidas, guessing at the matter by
the noise and running, leaped from his bed and drew his dagger, but
forgot to put out the lights, and by that means make them fall foul on
one another in the dark. As it was, being easily seen by reason of the
light, he received them at his chamber door, and stabbed Cephisodorus,
the first man that entered: on his falling, the next that he engaged
was Pelopidas; and the passage being narrow and Cephisodorus's body
lying in the way, there was a fierce and dangerous conflict. At last
Pelopidas prevailed, and having killed Leontidas, he and his companions
went in pursuit of Hypates, and after the same manner broke into his
house. He perceived the design, and fled to his neighbors; but they
closely followed, and caught and killed him.
This done they joined Melon, and sent to hasten the exiles they had
left in Attica: and called upon the citizens to maintain their liberty,
and taking down the spoils from the porches, and breaking open all the
armorers' shops that were near, equipped those that came to their
assistance. Epaminondas and Gorgidas came in already armed, with a
gallant train of young men, and the best of the old. Now the city was
in a great excitement and confusion, a great noise and hurry, lights
set up in every house, men running here and there; however, the people
did not as yet gather into a body, but, amazed at the proceedings, and
not clearly understanding the matter waited for the day. And,
therefore, the Spartan officers were thought to have been in fault for
not falling on at once, since their garrison consisted of about fifteen
hundred men, and many of the citizens ran to them; but, alarmed with
the noise, the fires, and the confused running of the people, they kept
quietly within the Cadmea. As soon as day appeared, the exiles from
Attica came in armed, and there was a general assembly of the people.
Epaminondas and Gorgidas brought forth Pelopidas and his party,
encompassed by the priests, who held out garlands, and exhorted the
people to fight for their country and their gods. The assembly, at
their appearance, rose up in a body, and with shouts and acclamations
received the men as their deliverers and benefactors.
Then Pelopidas, being chosen chief captain of Boeotia, together with
Melon and Charon, proceeded at once to blockade the citadel, and
stormed it on all sides, being extremely desirous to expel the
Lacedaemonians, and free the Cadmea, before an army could come from
Sparta to their relief. And he just so narrowly succeeded, that they,
having surrendered on terms and departed, on their way home met
Cleombrotus at Megara marching towards Thebes with a considerable
force. The Spartans condemned and executed Herippidas and Arcissus, two
of their governors@ at Thebes, and Lysanoridas the third being severely
fined, fled Peloponnesus. This action so closely resembling that of
Thrasybulus, in the courage of the actors, the danger, the encounters,
and equally crowned with success, was called the sister of it by the
Greeks. For we can scarcely find any other examples where so small and
weak a party of men by bold courage overcame such numerous and powerful
enemies, or brought greater blessings to their country by so doing. But
the subsequent change of affairs made this action the more famous; for
the war which forever ruined the pretensions of Sparta to command, and
put an end to the supremacy she then exercised alike by sea and by
land, proceeded from that night, in which Pelopidas not surprising any
fort, or castle, or citadel, but coming, the twelfth man, to a private
house, loosed and broke, if we may speak truth in metaphor, the chains
of the Spartan sway, which before seemed of adamant and indissoluble.
But now the Lacedaemonians invading Boeotia with a great army, the
Athenians, affrighted at the danger, declared themselves no allies to
Thebes, and prosecuting those that stood for the Boeotian interest,
executed some, and banished and fined others: and the cause of Thebes,
destitute of allies, seemed in a desperate condition. But Pelopidas and
Gorgidas, holding the office of captains of Boeotia, designing to breed
a quarrel between the Lacedaemonians and Athenians, made this
contrivance. One Sphodrias, a Spartan, a man famous indeed for courage
in battle, but of no sound judgment, full of ungrounded hopes and
foolish ambition, was left with an army at Thespiae, to receive and
succor the Theban renegades. To him Pelopidas and his colleagues
privately sent a merchant, one of their friends, with money, and, what
proved more efficient, advice, -- that it more became a man of his
worth to set upon some great enterprise, and that he should, making a
sudden incursion on the unprotected Athenians, surprise the Piraeus;
since nothing could be so grateful to Sparta, as to take Athens; and
the Thebans, of course, would not stir to the assistance of men whom
they now hated and looked upon as traitors. Sphodrias, being at last
wrought upon, marched into Attica by night with his army, and advanced
as far as Eleusis; but there his soldiers' hearts failing, after
exposing his project and involving the Spartans in a dangerous war, he
retreated to Thespiae. After this, the Athenians zealously sent
supplies to Thebes, and putting to sea, sailed to many places, and
offered support and protection to all those of the Greeks who were
willing to revolt.
The Thebans, meantime, singly, having many skirmishes with the Spartans
in Boeotia, and fighting some battles, not great indeed, but important
as training and instructing them, thus had their minds raised, and
their bodies inured to labor, and gained both experience and courage by
these frequent encounters; insomuch that we have it related that
Antalcidas, the Spartan, said to Agesilaus, returning wounded from
Boeotia, "Indeed, the Thebans have paid you handsomely for instructing
them in the art of war, against their wills." In real truth, however,
Agesilaus was not their master in this, but those that prudently and
opportunely, as men do young dogs, set them on their enemies, and
brought them safely off after they had tasted the sweets of victory and
resolution. Of all those leaders, Pelopidas deserves the most honor: as
after they had once chosen him general, he was every year in command as
long as he lived; either captain of the sacred band, or, what was most
frequent, chief captain of Boeotia. About Plataea and Thespiae the
Spartans were routed and put to flight, and Phoebidas, that surprised
the Cadmea, slain; and at Tanagra a considerable force was worsted, and
the leader Panthoides killed. But these encounters, though they raised
the victor's spirits, did not thoroughly dishearten the unsuccessful;
for there was no set battle, or regular fighting, but mere incursions
on advantage, in which, according to occasion, they charged, retired
again, or pursued. But the battle at Tegyrae, which seemed a prelude to
Leuctra, won Pelopidas a great reputation; for none of the other
commanders could claim any hand in the design, nor the enemies any show
of victory. The city of the Orchomenians siding with the Spartans, and
having received two companies for its guard, he kept a constant eye
upon it, and watched his opportunity. Hearing that the garrison had
moved into Locris, and hoping to find Orchomenus defenseless, he
marched with his sacred band, and some few horsemen. But when he
approached the city, and found that a reinforcement of the garrison was
on its march from Sparta, he made a circuit round the foot of the
mountains, and retreated with his little army through Tegyrae, that
being the only way he could pass. For the river Melas, almost as soon
as it rises, spreads itself into marshes and navigable pools, and makes
all the plain between impassable. A little below the marshes stands the
temple and oracle of Apollo Tegyraeus, forsaken not long before that
time, having flourished till the Median wars, Echecrates then being
priest. Here they profess that the god was born; the neighboring
mountain is called Delos, and there the river Melas comes again into a
channel; behind the temple rise two springs, admirable for the
sweetness, abundance, and coolness of the streams; one they call
Phoenix, the other Elaea, even to the present time, as if Lucina had
not been delivered between two trees, but fountains. A place hard by,
called Ptoum, is shown, where they say she was affrighted by the
appearance of a boar; and the stories of the Python and Tityus are in
like manner appropriated by these localities. I omit many of the points
that are used as arguments. For our tradition does not rank this god
amongst those that were born, and then made immortal, as Hercules and
Bacchus, whom their virtue raised above a mortal and passable
condition; but Apollo is one of the eternal unbegotten deities, if we
may collect any certainty concerning these things, from the statements
of the oldest and wisest in such subjects.
As Thebans were retreating from Orchomenus towards Tegyrae, the
Spartans, at the same time marching from Locris, met them. As soon as
they came in view, advancing through the straits, one told Pelopidas,
"We are fallen into our enemy's hands;" he replied, "And why not they
into ours?" and immediately commanded his horse to come up from the
rear and charge, while he himself drew his infantry, being three
hundred in number, into a close body, hoping by that means, at
whatsoever point he made the attack, to break his way through his more
numerous enemies. The Spartans had two companies, (the company
consisting, as Ephorus states, of five hundred; Callisthenes says seven
hundred; others, as Polybius, nine hundred) and their leaders,
Gorgoleon and Theopompus, confident of success, advanced upon the
Thebans. The charge being made with much fury, chiefly where the
commanders were posted, the Spartan captains that engaged Pelopidas
were first killed; and those immediately around them suffering
severely, the whole army was thus disheartened, and opened a lane for
the Thebans, as if they desired to pass through and escape. But when
Pelopidas entered, and turning against those that stood their ground,
still went on with a bloody slaughter, an open fight ensued amongst the
Spartans. The pursuit was carried but a little way, because they feared
the neighboring Orchomenians, and the reinforcement from Lacedaemon;
they had succeeded, however, in fighting a way through their enemies,
and overpowering their whole force; and, therefore, erecting a trophy,
and spoiling the slain, they returned home extremely encouraged with
their achievements. For in all the great wars there had ever been
against Greeks or barbarians, the Spartans were never before beaten by
a smaller company than their own; nor, indeed, in a set battle, when
their number was equal. Hence their courage was thought irresistible,
and their high repute before the battle made a conquest already of
enemies, who thought themselves no match for the men of Sparta even on
equal terms. But this battle first taught the other Greeks, that not
only Eurotas, or the country between Babyce and Cnacion, breeds men of
courage and resolution; but that where the youth are ashamed of
baseness, and ready to venture in a good cause, where they fly disgrace
more than danger, there, wherever it be, are found the bravest and most
formidable opponents.
Gorgidas, according to some, first formed the Sacred Band of three
hundred chosen men, to whom, as being a guard for the citadel, the
State allowed provision, and all things necessary for exercise: and
hence they were called the city band, as citadels of old were usually
called cities. Others say that it was composed of young men attached to
each other by personal affection, and a pleasant saying of Pammenes is
current, that Homer's Nestor was not well skilled in ordering an army,
when he advised the Greeks to rank tribe and tribe, and family and
family together, that
So tribe might tribe, and kinsmen kinsmen aid,
but that he should have joined lovers and their beloved. For men of the
same tribe or family little value one another when dangers press; but a
band cemented by friendship grounded upon love, is never to be broken,
and invincible; since the lovers, ashamed to be base in sight of their
beloved, and the beloved before their lovers, willingly rush into
danger for the relief of one another. Nor can that be wondered at;
since they have more regard for their absent lovers than for others
present; as in the instance of the man, who, when his enemy was going
to kill him, earnestly requested him to run him through the breast,
that his lover might not blush to see him wounded in the back. It is a
tradition likewise, that Iolaus, who assisted Hercules in his labors
and fought at his side, was beloved of him; and Aristotle observes,
that even in his time, lovers plighted their faith at Iolaus's tomb. It
is likely, therefore, that this band was called sacred on this account;
as Plato calls a lover a divine friend. It is stated that it was never
beaten till the battle at Chaeronea: and when Philip, after the fight,
took a view of the slain, and came to the place where the three hundred
that fought his phalanx lay dead together, he wondered, and
understanding that it was the band of lovers, he shed tears and said,
"Perish any man who suspects that these men either did or suffered
anything that was base."
It was not the disaster of Laius, as the poets imagine, that first gave
rise to this form of attachment amongst the Thebans, but their
law-givers, designing to soften, whilst they were young, their natural
fierceness, brought, for example, the pipe into great esteem, both in
serious and sportive occasions, and gave great encouragement to these
friendships in the Palaestra, to temper the manners and characters of
the youth. With a view to this they did well, again, to make Harmony,
the daughter of Mars and Venus, their tutelar deity; since, where force
and courage is joined with gracefulness and winning behavior a harmony
ensues that combines all the elements of society in perfect consonance
and order. -- Gorgidas distributed this Sacred Band all through the
front ranks of the infantry and thus made their gallantry less
conspicuous; not being united in one body, but mingled with so many
others of inferior resolution, they had no fair opportunity of showing
what they could do. But Pelopidas, having sufficiently tried their
bravery at Tegyrae, where they had fought alone, and around his own
person, never afterward divided them, but keeping them entire, and as
one man, gave them the first duty in the greatest battles. For as
horses run brisker in a chariot than singly, not that their joint force
divides the air with greater ease, but because being matched one
against the other, emulation kindles and inflames their courage; thus
he thought, brave men, provoking one another to noble actions, would
prove most serviceable and most resolute, where all were united
together.
Now when the Lacedaemonians had made peace with the other Greeks, and
united all their strength against the Thebans only, and their king,
Cleombrotus, had passed the frontier with ten thousand foot and one
thousand horse, and not only subjection, as heretofore, but total
dispersion and annihilation threatened, and Boeotia was in a greater
fear than ever, -- Pelopidas, leaving his house, when his wife followed
him on his way, and with tears begged him to be careful of his life,
made answer, "Private men, my wife, should be advised to look to
themselves, generals to save others." And when he came to the camp, and
found the chief captains disagreeing, he, first, joined the side of
Epaminondas, who advised to fight the enemy; though Pelopidas himself
was not then in office as chief captain of Boeotia, but in command of
the Sacred Band, and trusted as it was fit a man should be, who had
given his country such proofs of his zeal for its freedom. And so, when
a battle was agreed on, and they encamped in front of the Spartans at
Leuctra, Pelopidas saw a vision, which much discomposed him. In that
plain lie the bodies of the daughters of one Scedasus, called from the
place Leuctridae, having been buried there, after having been ravished
by some Spartan strangers. When this base and lawless deed was done,
and their father could get no satisfaction at Lacedaemon, with bitter
imprecations on the Spartans, he killed himself at his daughters'
tombs: and, from that time, the prophecies and oracles still warned
them to have a great care of the divine vengeance at Leuctra. Many,
however, did not understand the meaning, being uncertain about the
place, because there was a little maritime town of Laconia called
Leuctron, and near Megalopolis in Arcadia a place of the same name; and
the villainy was committed long before this battle.
Now Pelopidas, being asleep in the camp, thought he saw the maidens
weeping about their tombs, and cursing the Spartans, and Scedasus
commanding, if they desired the victory, to sacrifice a virgin with
chestnut hair to his daughters. Pelopidas looked on this as an harsh
and impious injunction, but rose and told it to the prophets and
commanders of the army, some of whom contended, that it was fit to
obey, and adduced as examples from the ancients, Menoeceus, son of
Creon; Macaria, daughter of Hercules; and from later times, Pherecydes
the philosopher, slain by the Lacedaemonians, and his skin, as the
oracles advised, still kept by their kings. Leonidas, again, warned by
the oracle, did as it were sacrifice himself for the good of Greece;
Themistocles offered human victims to Bacchus Omestes, before the
engagement at Salamis; and success showed their actions to be good. On
the contrary, Agesilaus going from the same place, and against the same
enemies that Agamemnon did, and, being commanded in a dream at Aulis to
sacrifice his daughter, was so weak as to disobey; the consequence of
which was, that his expedition was unsuccessful and inglorious. But
some on the other side urged, that such a barbarous and impious
oblation could not be pleasing to any Superior Beings: that typhons and
giants did not preside over the world, but the general father of gods
and men; that it was absurd to imagine any divinities or powers
delighted in slaughter and sacrifices of men; or, if there were an,
such, they were to be neglected, as weak and unable to assist; such
unreasonable and cruel desires could only proceed from, and live in
weak and depraved minds.
The commanders thus disputing, and Pelopidas being in a great
perplexity, a mare colt, breaking from the herd, ran through the camp,
and when she came to the place where they were, stood still; and whilst
some admired her bright chestnut color, others her mettle, or the
strength and fury of her neighing, Theocritus, the augur, took thought,
and cried out to Pelopidas, "O good friend! look, the sacrifice is
come; expect no other virgin, but use that which the gods have sent
thee." With that they took the colt, and, leading her to the maidens'
sepulchres, with the usual solemnity and prayers, offered her with joy,
and spread through the whole army the account of Pelopidas's dream, and
how they had given the required sacrifice.
In the battle, Epaminondas, bending his phalanx to the left, that, as
much as possible, he might divide the right wing, composed of Spartans,
from the other Greeks, and distress Cleombrotus, by a fierce charge in
column on that wing, the enemies perceived the design, and began to
change their order, to open and extend their right wing, and, as they
far exceeded him in number, to encompass Epaminondas. But Pelopidas
with the three hundred came rapidly up, before Cleombrotus could extend
his line, and close up his divisions, and so fell upon the Spartans
while in disorder; though the Lacedaemonians, the expertest and most
practiced soldiers of all mankind, used to train and accustom
themselves to nothing so much as to keep themselves from confusion upon
any change of position, and to follow any leader, or right hand man,
and form in order, and fight on what part soever dangers press. In this
battle, however, Epaminondas with his phalanx, neglecting the other
Greeks, and charging them alone, and Pelopidas coming up with such
incredible speed and fury, so broke their courage, and baffled their
art, that there began such a flight and slaughter amongst the Spartans,
as was never before known. And so Pelopidas, though in no high office,
but only captain of a small band, got as much reputation by the
victory, as Epaminondas, who was general and chief captain of Boeotia.
Into Peloponnesus, however, they both advanced together as colleagues
in supreme command, and gained the greater part of the nations there
from the Spartan confederacy; Elis, Argo, all Arcadia, and much of
Laconia itself. It was the dead of winter, and but few of the last days
of the month remained, and, in the beginning of the next, new officers
were to succeed, and whoever failed to deliver up his charge, forfeited
his head. Therefore, the other chief captains fearing the law, and to
avoid the sharpness of the winter, advised a retreat. But Pelopidas
joined with Epaminondas, and, encouraging his countrymen, led them
against Sparta, and, passing the Eurotas, took many of the towns, and
wasted the country as far as the sea. This army consisted of seventy
thousand Greeks, of which number the Thebans could not make the twelfth
part; but the reputation of the men made all their allies contented to
follow them as leaders, though no articles to that effect had been
made. For, indeed, it seems the first and paramount law, that he that
wants a defender, is naturally a subject to him that is able to defend:
as mariners, though in a calm or in the port they grow insolent, and
brave the pilot, yet when a storm comes, and danger is at hand, they
all attend, and put their hopes in him. So the Argives, Eleans, and
Arcadians, in their congresses, would contend with the Thebans for
superiority in command, yet in a battle, or any hazardous undertaking,
of their own will followed their Theban captains. In this expedition,
they united all Arcadia into one body, and, expelling the Spartans that
inhabited Messenia, they called back the old Messenians, and
established them in Ithome in one body; -- and, returning through
Cenchreae, they dispersed the Athenians, who designed to set upon them
in the straits, and hinder their march.
For these exploits, all the other Greeks loved their courage, and
admired their success; but among their own citizens, envy, still
increasing with their glory, prepared them no pleasing nor agreeable
reception. Both were tried for their lives, because they did not
deliver up their command in the first month, Bucatius, as the law
required, but kept it four months longer, in which time they did these
memorable actions in Messenia, Arcadia, and Laconia. Pelopidas was
first tried, and therefore in greatest danger, but both were acquitted.
Epaminondas bore the accusation and trial very patiently, esteeming it
a great and essential part of courage and generosity, not to resent
injuries in political life. But Pelopidas, being a man of a fiercer
temper, and stirred on by his friends to revenge the affront, took the
following occasion. Meneclidas, the orator, was one of those that had
met with Melon and Pelopidas at Charon's house; but not receiving equal
honor, and being powerful in his speech, but loose in his manners, and
ill-natured, he abused his natural endowments, even after this trial,
to accuse and calumniate his betters. He excluded Epaminondas from the
chief captaincy, and for a long time kept the upper hand of him; but he
was not powerful enough to bring Pelopidas out of the people's favor,
and therefore endeavored to raise a quarrel between him and Charon. And
since it is some comfort to the envious, to make those men, whom
themselves cannot excel, appear worse than others, he studiously
enlarged upon Charon's actions in his speeches to the people, and made
panegyrics on his expeditions and victories; and, of the victory which
the horsemen won at Plataea, before the battle at Leuctra, under
Charon's command, he endeavored to make the following sacred memorial.
Androcydes, the Cyzicenian, had undertaken to paint a previous battle
for the city, and was at work in Thebes; and when the revolt began, and
the war came on, the Thebans kept the picture that was then almost
finished. This picture Meneclidas persuaded them to dedicate, inscribed
with Charon's name, designing by that means to obscure the glory of
Epaminondas and Pelopidas. This was a ludicrous piece of pretension; to
set a single victory, where only one Gerandas, an obscure Spartan, and
forty more were slain, above such numerous and important battles. This
motion Pelopidas opposed, as contrary to law, alleging that it was not
the custom of the Thebans to honor any single man, but to attribute the
victory to their country; yet in all the contest, he extremely
commended Charon, and confined himself to showing Meneclidas to be a
troublesome and envious fellow, asking the Thebans, if they had done
nothing that was excellent, .... insomuch that Meneclidas was severely
fined; and he, being unable to pay, endeavored afterwards to disturb
the government. These things give us some light into Pelopidas's life.
Now when Alexander, the tyrant of Pherae, made open war against some of
the Thessalians, and had designs against all, the cities sent an
embassy to Thebes, to desire succors and a general; and Pelopidas,
knowing that Epaminondas was detained by the Peloponnesian affairs,
offered himself to lead the Thessalians, being unwilling to let his
courage and skill lie idle, and thinking it unfit that Epaminondas
should be withdrawn from his present duties. When he came into Thessaly
with his army, he presently took Larissa, and endeavored to reclaim
Alexander, who submitted, and bring him, from being a tyrant, to govern
gently, and according to law; but finding him untractable and brutish,
and hearing great complaints of his lust and cruelty, Pelopidas began
to be severe, and used him roughly, insomuch that the tyrant stole away
privately with his guard. But Pelopidas, leaving the Thessalians
fearless of the tyrant, and friends amongst themselves, marched into
Macedonia, where Ptolemy was then at war with Alexander, the king of
Macedon; both parties having sent for him to hear and determine their
differences, and assist the one that appeared injured. When he came, he
reconciled them, called back the exiles, and, receiving for hostages
Philip the king's brother, and thirty children of the nobles, he
brought them to Thebes; showing the other Greeks how wide a reputation
the Thebans had gained for honesty and courage. This was that Philip
who afterward endeavored to enslave the Greeks: then he was a boy, and
lived with Pammenes in Thebes; and hence some conjecture, that he took
Epaminondas's actions for the rule of his own; and perhaps, indeed, he
did take example from his activity and skill in war, which, however,
was but a small portion of his virtues; of his temperance, justice,
generosity, and mildness, in which he was truly great, Philip enjoyed
no share, either by nature or imitation.
After this, upon a second complaint of the Thessalians against
Alexander of Pherae, as a disturber of the cities, Pelopidas was joined
with Ismenias, in an embassy to him; but led no forces from Thebes, not
expecting any war, and therefore was necessitated to make use of the
Thessalians upon the emergency. At the same time, also, Macedon was in
confusion again, as Ptolemy had murdered the king, and seized the
government: but the king's friends sent for Pelopidas, and he, being
willing to interpose in the matter, but having no soldiers of his own,
enlisted some mercenaries in the country, and with them marched against
Ptolemy. When they faced one another, Ptolemy corrupted these
mercenaries with a sum of money, and persuaded them to revolt to him;
but yet, fearing the very name and reputation of Pelopidas, he came to
him as his superior, submitted, begged his pardon, and protested that
he kept the government only for the brothers of the dead king, and
would prove a friend to the friends, and an enemy to the enemies of
Thebes; and, to confirm this, he gave his son, Philoxenus, and fifty of
his companions, for hostages. These Pelopidas sent to Thebes; but he
himself, being vexed at the treachery of the mercenaries, and
understanding that most of their goods, their wives and children, lay
at Pharsalus, so that if he could take them, the injury would be
sufficiently revenged, got together some of the Thessalians, and
marched to Pharsalus. When he had just entered the city, Alexander, the
tyrant, appeared before it with an army; but Pelopidas and his friends,
thinking that he came to clear himself from those crimes that were laid
to his charge, went to him; and though they knew very well that he was
profligate and cruel, yet they imagined that the authority of Thebes,
and their own dignity and reputation, would secure them from violence.
But the tyrant, seeing them come unarmed and alone, seized them, and
made himself master of Pharsalus. Upon this his subjects were much
intimidated, thinking that after so great and so bold an iniquity, he
would spare none, but behave himself toward all, and in all matters, as
one despairing of his life. The Thebans, when they heard of this, were
very much enraged, and dispatched an army, Epaminondas being then in
disgrace, under the command of other leaders. When the tyrant brought
Pelopidas to Pherae, at first he permitted those that desired it to
speak with him, imagining that this disaster would break his spirit,
and make him appear contemptible. But when Pelopidas advised the
complaining Pheraeans to be comforted, as if the tyrant was now certain
in a short time to smart for his injuries, and sent to tell him, "That
it was absurd daily to torment and murder his wretched innocent
subjects, and yet spare him, who, he well knew, if ever he got his
liberty, would be bitterly revenged;" the tyrant, wondering at his
boldness and freedom of speech, replied, "And why is Pelopidas in haste
to die?" He, hearing of it, rejoined, "That you may be the sooner
ruined, being then more hated by the gods than now." From that time he
forbade any to converse with him; but Thebe, the daughter of Jason and
wife to Alexander, hearing from the keepers of the bravery and noble
behavior of Pelopidas, had a great desire to see and speak with him.
Now when she came into the prison, and, as a woman, could not at once
discern his greatness in his calamity, only, judging by the meanness of
his attire and general appearance, that he was used basely and not
befitting a man of his reputation, she wept. Pelopidas, at first not
knowing who she was, stood amazed; but when he understood, saluted her
by her father's name -- Jason and he having been friends and familiars
-- and she saying, "I pity your wife, Sir," he replied, "And I you,
that though not in chains, can endure Alexander." This touched the
woman, who already hated Alexander for his cruelty and injustice, for
his general debaucheries, and for his abuse of her youngest brother.
She, therefore, often went to Pelopidas, and, speaking freely of the
indignities she suffered, grew more enraged, and more exasperated
against Alexander.
The Theban generals that were sent into Thessaly did nothing, but,
being either unskillful or unfortunate, made a dishonorable retreat,
for which the city fined each of them ten thousand drachmas, and sent
Epaminondas with their forces. The Thessalians, inspirited by the fame
of this general, at once began to stir, and the tyrant's affairs were
at the verge of destruction; so great was the fear that possessed his
captains and his friends, and so eager the desire of his subjects to
revolt, in hope of his speedy punishment. But Epaminondas, more
solicitous for the safety of Pelopidas than his own glory, and fearing
that if things came to extremity, Alexander would grow desperate, and,
like a wild beast, turn and worry him, did not prosecute the war to the
utmost; but, hovering still over him with his army, he so handled the
tyrant as not to leave him any confidence, and yet not to drive him to
despair and fury. He was aware of his savageness, and the little value
he had for right and justice, insomuch that sometimes he buried men
alive, and sometimes dressed them in bear's and boar's skins, and then
baited them with dogs, or shot at them for his divertisement. At
Meliboea and Scotussa, two cities, his allies, he called all the
inhabitants to an assembly, and then surrounded them and cut them to
pieces with his guards. He consecrated the spear with which he killed
his uncle Polyphron, and, crowning it with garlands, sacrificed to it
as a god, and called it Tychon. And once seeing a tragedian act
Euripides's Troades, he left the theater; but sending for the actor,
bade him not to be concerned at his departure, but act as he had been
used to do, as it was not in contempt of him that he departed, but
because he was ashamed that his citizens should see him, who never
pitied any man that he murdered, weep at the sufferings of Hecuba and
Andromache. This tyrant, however, alarmed at the very name, report, and
appearance of an expedition under the conduct of Epaminondas, presently
Dropped like a craven cock his conquered wing,
and sent an embassy to entreat and offer satisfaction. Epaminondas
refused to admit such a man as an ally to the Thebans, but granted him
a truce of thirty days, and, Pelopidas and Ismenias being delivered up,
returned home.
Now the Thebans, understanding that the Spartans and Athenians had sent
an embassy to the Persians for assistance, themselves, likewise, sent
Pelopidas; an excellent design to increase his glory, no man having
ever before passed through the dominions of the king with greater fame
and reputation. For the glory that he won against the Spartans, did not
creep slowly or obscurely; but, after the fame of the first battle at
Leuctra was gone abroad, the report of new victories continually
following, exceedingly increased, and spread his celebrity far and
near. Whatever satraps or generals or commanders he met, he was the
object of their wonder and discourse; "This is the man," they said,
"who hath beaten the Lacedaemonians from sea and land, and confined
that Sparta within Taygetus and Eurotas, which, but a little before,
under the conduct of Agesilaus, was entering upon a war with the great
king about Susa and Ecbatana." This pleased Artaxerxes, and he was the
more inclined to show Pelopidas attention and honor, being desirous to
seem reverenced, and attended by the greatest. But when he saw him and
heard his discourse, more solid than the Athenians, and not so haughty
as the Spartans, his regard was heightened, and, truly acting like a
king, he openly showed the respect that he felt for him; and this the
other ambassadors perceived. Of all other Greeks he had been thought to
have done Antalcidas, the Spartan, the greatest honor, by sending him
that garland dipped in an unguent, which he himself had worn at an
entertainment. Indeed, he did not deal so delicately with Pelopidas,
but, according to the custom, gave him the most splendid and
considerable presents, and granted him his desires, that the Grecians
should be free, Messenia inhabited, and the Thebans accounted the
king's hereditary friends. With these answers, but not accepting one of
the presents, except what was a pledge of kindness and good-will, he
returned. This behavior of Pelopidas ruined the other ambassadors: the
Athenians condemned and executed their Timagoras, and, indeed, if they
did it for receiving so many presents from the king, their sentence was
just and good; as he not only took gold and silver, but a rich bed, and
slaves to make it, as if the Greeks were unskillful in that art;
besides eighty cows and herdsmen, professing he needed cow's milk for
some distemper; and, lastly, he was carried in a litter to the seaside,
with a present of four talents for his attendants. But the Athenians,
perhaps, were not so much irritated at his greediness for the presents.
For Epicrates the baggage-carrier not only confessed to the people that
he had received gifts from the king, but made a motion, that instead of
nine archons, they should yearly choose nine poor citizens to be sent
ambassadors to the king, and enriched by his presents, and the people
only laughed at the joke. But they were vexed that the Thebans obtained
their desires, never considering that Pelopidas's fame was more
powerful than all their rhetorical discourse, with a man who still
inclined to the victorious in arms. This embassy, having obtained the
restitution of Messenia, and the freedom of the other Greeks, got
Pelopidas a great deal of good-will at his return.
At this time, Alexander the Pheraean falling back to his old nature,
and having seized many of the Thessalian cities, and put garrisons upon
the Achaeans of Phthiotis, and the Magnesians, the cities, hearing that
Pelopidas was returned, sent an embassy to Thebes, requesting succors,
and him for their leader. The Thebans willingly granted their desire;
and now when all things were prepared, and the general beginning to
march, the sun was eclipsed, and darkness spread over the city at
noonday. Now when Pelopidas saw them startled at the prodigy, he did
not think it fit to force on men who were afraid and out of heart, nor
to hazard seven thousand of his citizens; and therefore with only three
hundred horse volunteers, set forward himself to Thessaly, much against
the will of the augurs and his fellow-citizens in general, who all
imagined this marked portent to have reference to this great man. But
he was heated against Alexander for the injuries he had received, and
hoped likewise, from the discourse which formerly he had with Thebe,
that his family by this time was divided and in disorder. But the glory
of the expedition chiefly excited him; for he was extremely desirous at
this time, when the Lacedaemonians were sending out military officers
to assist Dionysius the Sicilian tyrant, and the Athenians took
Alexander's pay, and honored him with a brazen statue as a benefactor,
that the Thebans should be seen, alone, of all the Greeks, undertaking
the cause of those who were oppressed by tyrants, and destroying the
violent and illegal forms of government in Greece.
When Pelopidas was come to Pharsalus, he formed an army, and presently
marched against Alexander; and Alexander understanding that Pelopidas
had few Thebans with him, and that his own infantry was double the
number of the Thessalians, faced him at Thetidium. Some one told
Pelopidas, "The tyrant meets us with a great army;" "So much the
better," he replied, "for then we shall overcome the more." Between the
two armies lay some steep high hills about Cynoscephalae, which both
parties endeavored to take by their foot. Pelopidas commanded his
horse, which were good and many, to charge that of the enemies; they
routed and pursued them through the plain. But Alexander, meantime,
took the hills, and charging the Thessalian foot that came up later,
and strove to climb the steep and craggy ascent, killed the foremost,
and the others, much distressed, could do the enemies no harm.
Pelopidas, observing this, sounded a retreat to his horse, and gave
orders that they should charge the enemies that kept their ground; and
he himself, taking his shield, quickly joined those that fought about
the hills, and, advancing to the front, filled his men with such
courage and alacrity, that the enemies imagined they came with other
spirits and other bodies to the onset. They stood two or three charges,
but finding these come on stoutly, and the horse, also, returning from
the pursuit, gave ground, and retreated in order. Pelopidas now
perceiving, from the rising ground, that the enemy's army was, though
not yet routed, full of disorder and confusion, stood and looked about
for Alexander; and when he saw him in the right wing, encouraging and
ordering his mercenaries, he could not moderate his anger, but inflamed
at the sight, and blindly following his passion, regardless alike of
his own life and his command, advanced far before his soldiers, crying
out and challenging the tyrant who did not dare to receive him, but
retreating, hid himself amongst his guard. The foremost of the
mercenaries that came hand to hand were driven back by Pelopidas, and
some killed; but many at a distance shot through his armor and wounded
him, till the Thessalians, in anxiety for the result, ran down from the
hill to his relief, but found him already slain. The horse came up,
also, and routed the phalanx, and, following the pursuit a great way,
filled the whole country with the slain, which were above three
thousand.
No one can wonder that the Thebans then present, should show great
grief at the death of Pelopidas, calling him their father, deliverer,
and instructor in all that was good and commendable. But the
Thessalians and the allies out-doing in their public edicts all the
just honors that could be paid to human courage, gave, in their display
of feeling, yet stronger demonstrations of the kindness they had for
him. It is stated, that none of the soldiers, when they heard of his
death, would put off their armor, unbridle their horses, or dress their
wounds, but, still hot and with their arms on, ran to the corpse, and,
as if he had been yet alive and could see what they did, heaped up
spoils about his body. They cut off their horses' manes and their own
hair, many kindled no fire in their tents, took no supper, and silence
and sadness was spread over all the army; as if they had not gained the
greatest and most glorious victory, but were overcome by the tyrant,
and enslaved. As soon as it was known in the cities, the magistrates,
youths, children, and priests, came out to meet the body, and brought
trophies, crowns, and suits of golden armor; and, when he was to be
interred, the elders of the Thessalians came and begged the Thebans,
that they might give the funeral; and one of them said, "Friends, we
ask a favor of you, that will prove both an honor and comfort to us in
this our great misfortune. The Thessalians shall never again wait on
the living Pelopidas, never give honors, of which he can be sensible,
but if we may have his body, adorn his funeral, and inter him, we shall
hope to show that we esteem his death a greater loss to the Thessalians
than to the Thebans. You have lost only a good general, we both a
general and our liberty. For how shall we dare to desire from you
another captain, since we cannot restore Pelopidas?"
The Thebans granted their request, and there was never a more splendid
funeral in the opinion of those, who do not think the glory of such
solemnities consists only in gold, ivory, and purple; as Philistus did,
who extravagantly celebrates the funeral of Dionysius, in which his
tyranny concluded like the pompous exit of some great tragedy.
Alexander the Great, at the death of Hephaestion, not only cut off the
manes of his horses and his mules, but took down the battlements from
the city walls, that even the towns might seem mourners, and, instead
of their former beauteous appearance, look bald at his funeral. But
such honors, being commanded and forced from the mourners, attended
with feelings of jealousy towards those who received them, and of
hatred towards those who exacted them, were no testimonies of love and
respect, but of the barbaric pride, luxury, and insolence of those who
lavished their wealth in these vain and undesirable displays. But that
a man of common rank, dying in a strange country, neither his wife,
children, nor kinsmen present, none either asking or compelling it,
should be attended, buried, and crowned by so many cities that strove
to exceed one another in the demonstrations of their love, seems to be
the sum and completion of happy fortune. For the death of happy men is
not, as Aesop observes, most grievous, but most blessed, since it
secures their felicity, and puts it out of fortune's power. And that
Spartan advised well, who, embracing Diagoras, that had himself been
crowned in the Olympic Games, and saw his sons and grandchildren
victors, said, "Die, Diagoras, for thou canst not be a god." And yet
who would compare all the victories in the Pythian and Olympian Games
put together, with one of those enterprises of Pelopidas, of which he
successfully performed so many? Having spent his life in brave and
glorious actions, he died at last in the chief command, for the
thirteenth time, of the Boeotians, fighting bravely and in the act of
slaying a tyrant, in defense of the liberty of the Thessalians.
His death, as it brought grief, so likewise it produced advantage to
the allies; for the Thebans, as soon as they heard of his fall, delayed
not their revenge, but presently sent seven thousand foot and seven
hundred horse, under the command of Malcitas and Diogiton. And they,
finding Alexander weak and without forces, compelled him to restore the
cities he had taken, to withdraw his garrisons from the Magnesians and
Achaeans of Phthiotis, and swear to assist the Thebans against
whatsoever enemies they should require. This contented the Thebans, but
punishment overtook the tyrant for his wickedness, and the death of
Pelopidas was revenged by Heaven in the following manner. Pelopidas, as
I have already mentioned, had taught his wife Thebe not to fear the
outward splendor and show of the tyrant's defenses, since she was
admitted within them. She, of herself, too, dreaded his inconstancy,
and hated his cruelty; and, therefore, conspiring with her three
brothers, Tisiphonus, Pytholaus, and Lycophron, made the following
attempt upon him. All the other apartments were full of the tyrant's
night guards, but their bed-chamber was an upper room, and before the
door lay a chained dog to guard it, which would fly at all but the
tyrant and his wife and one servant that fed him. When Thebe,
therefore, designed to kill her husband, she hid her brothers all day
in a room hard by, and she, going in alone, according to her usual
custom, to Alexander who was asleep already, in a little time came out
again, and commanded the servant to lead away the dog, for Alexander
wished to rest quietly. She covered the stairs with wool, that the
young men might make no noise as they came up; and then, bringing up
her brothers with their weapons, and leaving them at the chamber door,
she went in, and brought away the tyrant's sword that hung over his
head and showed it them for a confirmation that he was fast asleep. The
young men appearing fearful, and unwilling to do the murder, she chid
them, and angrily vowed she would wake Alexander, and discover the
conspiracy; and so, with a lamp in her hand, she conducted them in,
they being both ashamed and afraid, and brought them to the bed; when
one of them caught him by the feet, the other pulled him backward by
the hair, and the third ran him through. The death was more speedy,
perhaps, than was fit; but, in that he was the first tyrant that was
killed by the contrivance of his wife, and as his corpse was abused,
thrown out, and trodden under foot by the Pheraeans, he seems to have
suffered what his villainies deserved.
MARCELLUS
They say that Marcus Claudius, who was five times consul of the Romans,
was the son of Marcus; and that he was the first of his family called
Marcellus; that is, martial, as Posidonius affirms. He was, indeed, by
long experience skillful in the art of war, of a strong body, valiant
of hand, and by natural inclination addicted to war. This high temper
and heat he showed conspicuously in battle; in other respects he was
modest and obliging, and so far studious of Greek learning and
discipline, as to honor and admire those that excelled in it, though he
did not himself attain a proficiency in them equal to his desire, by
reason of his employments. For if ever there were any men, whom, as
Homer says, Heaven,
From their first youth unto their utmost age
Appointed the laborious wars to wage,
certainly they were the chief Romans of that time; who in their youth
had war with the Carthaginians in Sicily, in their middle age with the
Gauls in the defense of Italy itself; and, at last, when now grown old,
struggled again with Hannibal and the Carthaginians, and wanted in
their latest years what is granted to most men, exemption from military
toils; their rank and their great qualities still making them be called
upon to undertake the command.
Marcellus, ignorant or unskillful of no kind of fighting, in single
combat surpassed himself; he never declined a challenge, and never
accepted without killing his challenger. In Sicily, he protected and
saved his brother Otacilius when surrounded in battle, and slew the
enemies that pressed upon him; for which act he was by the generals,
while he was yet but young, presented with crowns and other honorable
rewards; and, his good qualities more and more displaying themselves,
he was created Curule Aedile by the people, and by the high-priests
Augur; which is that priesthood to which chiefly the law assigns the
observation of auguries. In his aedileship, a certain mischance brought
him to the necessity of bringing an impeachment into the senate. He had
a son named Marcus, of great beauty, in the flower of his age, and no
less admired for the goodness of his character. This youth,
Capitolinus, a bold and ill-mannered man, Marcellus's colleague, sought
to abuse. The boy at first himself repelled him; but when the other
again persecuted him, told his father. Marcellus, highly indignant,
accused the man in the senate, where he, having appealed to the
tribunes of the people, endeavored by various shifts and exceptions to
elude the impeachment; and, when the tribunes refused their protection,
by flat denial rejected the charge. As there was no witness of the
fact, the senate thought fit to call the youth himself before them; on
witnessing whose blushes and tears, and shame mixed with the highest
indignation, seeking no further evidence of the crime, they condemned
Capitolinus, and set a fine upon him; of the money of which, Marcellus
caused silver vessels for libation to be made, which he dedicated to
the gods.
After the end of the first Punic war, which lasted one and twenty
years, the seeds of Gallic tumults sprang up, and began again to
trouble Rome. The Insubrians, a people inhabiting the subalpine region
of Italy, strong in their own forces, raised from among the other Gauls
aids of mercenary soldiers, called Gaesatae. And it was a sort of
miracle, and special good fortune for Rome, that the Gallic war was not
coincident with the Punic, but that the Gauls had with fidelity stood
quiet as spectators, while the Punic war continued, as though they had
been under engagements to await and attack the victors, and now only
were at liberty to come forward. Still the position itself, and the
ancient renown of the Gauls, struck no little fear into the minds of
the Romans, who were about to undertake a war so near home and upon
their own borders; and regarded the Gauls, because they had once taken
their city, with more apprehension than any people, as is apparent from
the enactment which from that time forth provided, that the
high-priests should enjoy an exemption from all military duty, except
only in Gallic insurrections.
The great preparations, also, made by the Romans for war, (for it is
not reported that the people of Rome ever had at one time so many
legions in arms, either before or since,) and their extraordinary
sacrifices, were plain arguments of their fear. For though they were
most averse to barbarous and cruel rites, and entertained more than any
nation the same pious and reverent sentiments of the gods with the
Greeks; yet, when this war was coming upon them, they then, from some
prophecies in the Sibyls' books, put alive under ground a pair of
Greeks, one male, the other female; and likewise two Gauls, one of each
sex, in the market called the beast-market: continuing even to this day
to offer to these Greeks and Gauls certain secret ceremonial
observances in the month of November.
In the beginning of this war, in which the Romans sometimes obtained
remarkable victories, sometimes were shamefully beaten, nothing was
done toward the determination of the contest, until Flaminius and
Furius, being consuls, led large forces against the Insubrians. At the
time of their departure, the river that runs through the country of
Picenum was seen flowing with blood; there was a report, that three
moons had been seen at once at Ariminum; and, in the consular assembly,
the augurs declared, that the consuls had been unduly and
inauspiciously created. The senate, therefore, immediately sent letters
to the camp, recalling the consuls to Rome with all possible speed, and
commanding them to forbear from acting against the enemies, and to
abdicate the consulship on the first opportunity. These letters being
brought to Flaminius, he deferred to open them till, having defeated
and put to flight the enemy's forces, he wasted and ravaged their
borders. The people, therefore, did not go forth to meet him when he
returned with huge spoils; nay, because he had not instantly obeyed the
command in the letters, by which he was recalled, but slighted and
contemned them, they were very near denying him the honor of a triumph.
Nor was the triumph sooner passed than they deposed him, with his
colleague, from the magistracy, and reduced them to the state of
private citizens. So much were all things at Rome made to depend upon
religion; they would not allow any contempt of the omens and the
ancient rites, even though attended with the highest success; thinking
it to be of more importance to the public safety, that the magistrates
should reverence the gods, than that they should overcome their
enemies. Thus Tiberius Sempronius, whom for his probity and virtue the
citizens highly esteemed, created Scipio Nasica and Caius Marcius,
consuls to succeed him: and when they were gone into their provinces,
lit upon books concerning the religious observances, where he found
something he had not known before; which was this. When the consul took
his auspices, he sat without the city in a house, or tent, hired for
that occasion; but, if it happened that he, for any urgent cause,
returned into the city, without having yet seen any certain signs, he
was obliged to leave that first building, or tent, and to seek another
to repeat the survey from. Tiberius, it appears, in ignorance of this,
had twice used the same building before announcing the new consuls.
Now, understanding his error, he referred the matter to the senate: nor
did the senate neglect this minute fault, but soon wrote expressly of
it to Scipio Nasica and Caius Marcius; who, leaving their provinces and
without delay returning to Rome, laid down their magistracy. This
happened at a later period. About the same time, too, the priesthood
was taken away from two men of very great honor, Cornelius Cethegus and
Quintus Sulpicius: from the former, because he had not rightly held out
the entrails of a beast slain for sacrifice; from the latter, because,
while he was immolating, the tufted cap which the Flamens wear had
fallen from his head. Minucius, the dictator, who had already named
Caius Flaminius master of the horse, they deposed from his command,
because the squeak of a mouse was heard, and put others into their
places. And yet, notwithstanding, by observing so anxiously these
little niceties they did not run into any superstition, because they
never varied from nor exceeded the observances of their ancestors.
So soon as Flaminius with his colleague had resigned the consulate,
Marcellus was declared consul by the presiding officers called
Interrexes; and, entering into the magistracy, chose Cnaeus Cornelius
his colleague. There was a report that, the Gauls proposing a
pacification, and the senate also inclining to peace, Marcellus
inflamed the people to war; but a peace appears to have been agreed
upon, which the Gaesatae broke; who, passing the Alps, stirred up the
Insubrians, (they being thirty thousand in number, and the Insubrians
more numerous by far) and, proud of their strength, marched directly to
Acerrae, a city seated on the north of the river Po. From thence
Britomartus, king of the Gaesatae, taking with him ten thousand
soldiers, harassed the country round about. News of which being brought
to Marcellus, leaving his colleague at Acerrae with the foot and all
the heavy arms and a third part of the horse, and carrying with him the
rest of the horse and six hundred light armed foot, marching night and
day without remission, he staid not till he came up to these ten
thousand near a Gaulish village called Clastidium, which not long
before had been reduced under the Roman jurisdiction. Nor had he time
to refresh his soldiers, or to give them rest. For the barbarians, that
were then present, immediately observed his approach, and contemned
him, because he had very few foot with him. The Gauls were singularly
skillful in horsemanship, and thought to excel in it; and as at present
they also exceeded Marcellus in number, they made no account of him.
They, therefore, with their king at their head, instantly charged upon
him, as if they would trample him under their horses' feet, threatening
all kind of cruelties. Marcellus, because his men were few, that they
might not be encompassed and charged on all sides by the enemy,
extended his wings of horse, and, riding about, drew out his wings of
foot in length, till he came near to the enemy. Just as he was in the
act of turning round to face the enemy, it so happened that his horse,
startled with their fierce look and their cries, gave back, and carried
him forcibly aside. Fearing lest this accident, if converted into an
omen, might discourage his soldiers, he quickly brought his horse round
to confront the enemy, and made a gesture of adoration to the sun, as
if he had wheeled about not by chance, but for a purpose of devotion.
For it was customary to the Romans, when they offered worship to the
gods, to turn round; and in this moment of meeting the enemy, he is
said to have vowed the best of the arms to Jupiter Feretrius.
The king of the Gauls beholding Marcellus, and from the badges of his
authority conjecturing him to be the general, advanced some way before
his embattled army, and with a loud voice challenged him, and,
brandishing his lance, fiercely ran in full career at him; exceeding
the rest of the Gauls in stature, and with his armor, that was adorned
with gold and silver and various colors, shining like lightning. These
arms seeming to Marcellus, while he viewed the enemy's army drawn up in
battalia, to be the best and fairest, and thinking them to be those he
had vowed to Jupiter, he instantly ran upon the king, and pierced
through his breastplate with his lance; then pressing upon him with the
weight of his horse, threw him to the ground, and with two or three
strokes more, slew him. Immediately he leapt from his horse, laid his
hand upon the dead king's arms, and, looking up toward Heaven, thus
spoke: "O Jupiter Feretrius, arbiter of the exploits of captains, and
of the acts of commanders in war and battles, be thou witness that I, a
general, have slain a general; I, a consul, have slain a king with my
own hand, third of all the Romans; and that to thee I consecrate these
first and most excellent of the spoils. Grant to us to dispatch the
relics of the war, with the same course of fortune." Then the Roman
horse joining battle not only with the enemy's horse, but also with the
foot who attacked them, obtained a singular and unheard of victory. For
never before or since have so few horse defeated such numerous forces
of horse and foot together. The enemies being to a great number slain,
and the spoils collected, he returned to his colleague, who was
conducting the war, with ill success, against the enemies near the
greatest and most populous of the Gallic cities, Milan. This was their
capital, and, therefore, fighting valiantly in defense of it, they were
not so much besieged by Cornelius, as they besieged him. But Marcellus
having returned, and the Gaesatae retiring as soon as they were
certified of the death of the king and the defeat of his army, Milan
was taken. The rest of their towns, and all they had, the Gauls
delivered up of their own accord to the Romans, and had peace upon
equitable conditions granted to them.
Marcellus alone, by a decree of the senate, triumphed. The triumph was
in magnificence, opulence, spoils, and the gigantic bodies of the
captives, most remarkable. But the most grateful and most rare
spectacle of all was the general himself, carrying the arms of the
barbarian king to the god to whom he had vowed them. He had taken a
tall and straight stock of an oak, and had lopped and formed it to a
trophy. Upon this he fastened and hung round about the arms of the
king, arranging all the pieces in their suitable places. The procession
advancing solemnly, he, carrying this trophy, ascended the chariot; and
thus, himself the fairest and most glorious triumphant image, was
conveyed into the city. The army adorned with shining armor followed in
order, and with verses composed for the occasion and with songs of
victory celebrated the praises of Jupiter and of their general. Then
entering the temple of Jupiter Feretrius, he dedicated his gift; the
third, and to our memory the last, that ever did so. The first was
Romulus, after having slain Acron, king of the Caeninenses: the second,
Cornelius Cossus, who slew Tolumnius the Etruscan: after them
Marcellus, having killed Britomartus king of the Gauls; after
Marcellus, no man. The god to whom these spoils were consecrated is
called Jupiter Feretrius, from the trophy carried on the feretrum, one
of the Greek words which at that time still existed in great numbers in
Latin: or, as others say, it is the surname of the Thundering Jupiter,
derived from ferire, to strike. Others there are who would have the
name to be deduced from the strokes that are given in fight; since even
now in battles, when they press upon their enemies, they constantly
call out to each other, strike, in Latin, feri. Spoils in general they
call Spolia, and these in particular Opima; though, indeed, they say
that Numa Pompilius in his commentaries, makes mention of first,
second, and third Spolia Opima; and that he prescribes that the first
taken be consecrated to Jupiter Feretrius, the second to Mars, the
third to Quirinus; as also that the reward of the first be three
hundred asses; of the second, two hundred; of the third, one hundred.
The general account, however, prevails, that those spoils only are
Opima, which the general first takes in set battle, and takes from the
enemy's chief captain whom he has slain with his own hand. But of this
enough. The victory and the ending of the war was so welcome to the
people of Rome, that they sent to Apollo of Delphi, in testimony of
their gratitude, a present of a golden cup of a hundred pound weight,
and gave a great part of the spoil to their associate cities, and took
care that many presents should be sent also to Hiero, king of the
Syracusans, their friend and ally.
When Hannibal invaded Italy, Marcellus was dispatched with a fleet into
Sicily. And when the army had been defeated at Cannae, and many
thousands of them perished, and few had saved themselves by flying to
Canusium, and all feared lest Hannibal, who had destroyed the strength
of the Roman army, should advance at once with his victorious troops to
Rome, Marcellus first sent for the protection of the city fifteen
hundred solders, from the fleet. Then, by decree of the senate, going
to Canusium, having heard that many of the soldiers had come together
in that place, he led them out of the fortifications to prevent the
enemy from ravaging the country. The chief Roman commanders had most of
them fallen in battles; and the citizens complained, that the extreme
caution of Fabius Maximus, whose integrity and wisdom gave him the
highest authority, verged upon timidity and inaction. They confided in
him to keep them out of danger, but could not expect that he would
enable them to retaliate. Fixing, therefore, their thoughts upon
Marcellus, and hoping to combine his boldness, confidence, and
promptitude with Fabius's caution and prudence, and to temper the one
by the other, they sent, sometimes both with consular command,
sometimes one as consul, the other as proconsul, against the enemy.
Posidonius writes, that Fabius was called the buckler, Marcellus the
sword of Rome. Certainly, Hannibal himself confessed that he feared
Fabius as a schoolmaster, Marcellus as an adversary: the former, lest
he should be hindered from doing mischief; the latter, lest he should
receive harm himself.
And first, when among Hannibal's soldiers, proud of their victory,
carelessness and boldness had grown to a great height, Marcellus,
attacking all their stragglers and plundering parties, cut them off,
and by little and little diminished their forces. Then carrying aid to
the Neapolitans and Nolans, he confirmed the minds of the former, who,
indeed, were of their own accord faithful enough to the Romans; but in
Nola he found a state of discord, the senate not being able to rule and
keep in the common people, who were generally favorers of Hannibal.
There was in the town one Bantius, a man renowned for his high birth
and courage. This man, after he had fought most fiercely at Cannae, and
had killed many of the enemies, at last was found lying in a heap of
dead bodies, covered with darts, and was brought to Hannibal, who so
honored him, that he not only dismissed him without ransom, but also
contracted friendship with him, and made him his guest. In gratitude
for this great favor, he became one of the strongest of the partisans
of Hannibal, and urged the people to revolt. Marcellus could not be
induced to put to death a man of such eminence, and who had endured
such dangers in fighting on the Roman side; but, knowing himself able,
by the general kindliness of his disposition and in particular by the
attractiveness of his address, to gain over a character whose passion
was for honor, one day when Bantius saluted him, he asked him who he
was; not that he knew him not before, but seeking an occasion of
further conference. When Bantius had told who he was, Marcellus,
seeming surprised with joy and wonder, replied: "Are you that Bantius,
whom the Romans commend above the rest that fought at Cannae, and
praise as the one man that not only did not forsake the consul Paulus
Aemilius, but received in his own body many darts thrown at him?"
Bantius owning himself to be that very man, and showing his scars: "Why
then," said Marcellus, "did not you, having such proofs to show of your
affection to us, come to me at my first arrival here? Do you think that
we are unwilling to requite with favor those who have well deserved,
and who are honored even by our enemies?" He followed up his courtesies
by a present of a war-horse, and five hundred drachmas in money. From
that time Bantius became the most faithful assistant and ally of
Marcellus, and a most keen discoverer of those that attempted
innovation and sedition.
These were many, and had entered into a conspiracy to plunder the
baggage of the Romans, when they should make an irruption against the
enemy. Marcellus, therefore, having marshaled his army within the city,
placed the baggage near to the gates, and, by an edict, forbade the
Nolans to go to the walls. Thus, outside the city, no arms could be
seen; by which prudent device he allured Hannibal to move with his army
in some disorder to the city, thinking that things were in a tumult
there. Then Marcellus, the nearest gate being, as he had commanded,
thrown open, issuing forth with the flower of his horse in front,
charged the enemy. By and by the foot, sallying out of another gate,
with a loud shout joined in the battle. And while Hannibal opposes part
of his forces to these, the third gate also is opened, out of which the
rest break forth, and on all quarters fall upon the enemies, who were
dismayed at this unexpected encounter, and did but feebly resist those
with whom they had been first engaged, because of their attack by these
others that sallied out later. Here Hannibal's soldiers, with much
bloodshed and many wounds, were beaten back to their camp, and for the
first time turned their backs to the Romans. There fell in this action,
as it is related, more than five thousand of them; of the Romans, not
above five hundred. Livy does not affirm, that either the victory, or
the slaughter of the enemy was so great; but certain it is, that the
adventure brought great glory to Marcellus, and to the Romans, after
their calamities, a great revival of confidence, as they began now to
entertain a hope, that the enemy with whom they contended was not
invincible, but liable like themselves to defeats.
Therefore, the other consul being deceased, the people recalled
Marcellus, that they might put him into his place; and, in spite of the
magistrates, succeeded in postponing the election till his arrival,
when he was by all the suffrages created consul. But because it
happened to thunder, the augurs accounting that he was not legitimately
created, and yet not daring, for fear of the people, to declare their
sentence openly, Marcellus voluntarily resigned the consulate,
retaining however his command. Being created proconsul, and returning
to the camp at Nola, he proceeded to harass those that followed the
party of the Carthaginian; on whose coming with speed to succor them,
Marcellus declined a challenge to a set battle, but when Hannibal had
sent out a party to plunder, and now expected no fight, he broke out
upon him with his army. He had distributed to the foot long lances,
such as are commonly used in naval fights; and instructed them to throw
them with great force at convenient distance against the enemies who
were inexperienced in that way of darting, and used to fight with short
darts hand to hand. This seems to have been the cause of the total rout
and open flight of all the Carthaginians who were then engaged: there
fell of them five thousand; four elephants were killed, and two taken;
but, what was of greatest moment, on the third day after, more than
three hundred horse, Spaniards and Numidians mixed, deserted to him, a
disaster that had never to that day happened to Hannibal, who had long
kept together in harmony an army of barbarians, collected out of many
various and discordant nations. Marcellus and his successors in all
this war made good use of the faithful service of these horsemen.
He now was a third time created consul, and sailed over into Sicily.
For the success of Hannibal had excited the Carthaginians to lay claim
to that whole island; chiefly because after the murder of the tyrant
Hieronymus, all things had been in tumult and confusion at Syracuse.
For which reason the Romans also had sent before to that city a force
under the conduct of Appius, as praetor. While Marcellus was receiving
that army, a number of Roman soldiers cast themselves at his feet, upon
occasion of the following calamity. Of those that survived the battle
at Cannae, some had escaped by flight, and some were taken alive by the
enemy; so great a multitude, that it was thought there were not
remaining Romans enough to defend the walls of the city. And yet the
magnanimity and constancy of the city was such, that it would not
redeem the captives from Hannibal, though it might have done so for a
small ransom; a decree of the senate forbade it, and chose rather to
leave them to be killed by the enemy, or sold out of Italy; and
commanded that all who had saved themselves by flight should be
transported into Sicily, and not permitted to return into Italy, until
the war with Hannibal should be ended. These, therefore, when Marcellus
was arrived in Sicily, addressed themselves to him in great numbers;
and casting themselves at his feet, with much lamentation and tears
humbly besought him to admit them to honorable service; and promised to
make it appear by their future fidelity and exertions, that that defeat
had been received rather by misfortune than by cowardice. Marcellus,
pitying them, petitioned the senate by letters, that he might have
leave at all times to recruit his legions out of them. After much
debate about the thing, the senate decreed they were of opinion that
the commonwealth did not require the service of cowardly soldiers; if
Marcellus perhaps thought otherwise, he might make use of them,
provided no one of them be honored on any occasion with a crown or
military gift, as a reward of his virtue or courage. This decree stung
Marcellus; and on his return to Rome, after the Sicilian war was ended,
he upbraided the senate, that they had denied to him, who had so highly
deserved of the republic, liberty to relieve so great a number of
citizens in great calamity.
At this time Marcellus, first incensed by injures done him by
Hippocrates, commander of the Syracusans, (who, to give proof of his
good affection to the Carthaginians, and to acquire the tyranny to
himself, had killed a number of Romans at Leontini,) besieged and took
by force the city of Leontini; yet violated none of the townsmen; only
deserters, as many as he took, he subjected to the punishment of the
rods and axe. But Hippocrates, sending a report to Syracuse, that
Marcellus had put all the adult population to the sword, and then
coming upon the Syracusans, who had risen in tumult upon that false
report, made himself master of the city. Upon this Marcellus moved with
his whole army to Syracuse, and, encamping near the wall, sent
ambassadors into the city to relate to the Syracusans the truth of what
had been done in Leontini. When these could not prevail by treaty, the
whole power being now in the hands of Hippocrates, he proceeded to
attack the city both by land and by sea. The land forces were conducted
by Appius Marcellus, with sixty galleys, each with five rows of oars,
furnished with all sorts of arms and missiles, and a huge bridge of
planks laid upon eight ships chained together, upon which was carried
the engine to cast stones and darts, assaulted the walls, relying on
the abundance and magnificence of his preparations, and on his own
previous glory; all which, however, were, it would seem, but trifles
for Archimedes and his machines.
These machines he had designed and contrived, not as matters of any
importance, but as mere amusements in geometry; in compliance with king
Hiero's desire and request, some little time before, that he should
reduce to practice some part of his admirable speculations in science,
and by accommodating the theoretic truth to sensation and ordinary use,
bring it more within the appreciation of people in general. Eudoxus and
Archytas had been the first originators of this far-famed and highly
prized art of mechanics, which they employed as an elegant illustration
of geometrical truths, and as a means of sustaining experimentally, to
the satisfaction of the senses, conclusions too intricate for proof by
words and diagrams. As, for example, to solve the problem, so often
required in constructing geometrical figures, given the two extreme, to
find the two mean lines of a proportion, both these mathematicians had
recourse to the aid of instruments, adapting to their purpose certain
curves and sections of lines. But what with Plato's indignation at it,
and his invectives against it as the mere corruption and annihilation
of the one good of geometry, -- which was thus shamefully turning its
back upon the unembodied objects of pure intelligence to recur to
sensation, and to ask help (not to be obtained without base
subservience and depravation) from matter; so it was that mechanics
came to be separated from geometry, and, repudiated and neglected by
philosophers, took its place as a military art. Archimedes, however, in
writing to king Hiero, whose friend and near relation he was, had
stated, that given the force, any given weight might be moved, and even
boasted, we are told, relying on the strength of demonstration, that if
there were another earth, by going into it he could remove this. Hiero
being struck with amazement at this, and entreating him to make good
this problem by actual experiment, and show some great weight moved by
a small engine, he fixed accordingly upon a ship of burden out of the
king's arsenal, which could not be drawn out of the dock without great
labor and many men; and, loading her with many passengers and a full
freight, sitting himself the while far off, with no great endeavor, but
only holding the head of the pulley in his hand and drawing the cord by
degrees, he drew the ship in a straight line, as smoothly and evenly,
as if she had been in the sea. The king, astonished at this, and
convinced of the power of the art, prevailed upon Archimedes to make
him engines accommodated to all the purposes, offensive and defensive,
of a siege. These the king himself never made use of, because he spent
almost all his life in a profound quiet, and the highest affluence. But
the apparatus was, in a most opportune time, ready at hand for the
Syracusans, and with it also the engineer himself.
When, therefore, the Romans assaulted the walls in two places at once,
fear and consternation stupefied the Syracusans, believing that nothing
was able to resist that violence and those forces. But when Archimedes
began to ply his engines, he at once shot against the land forces all
sorts of missile weapons, and immense masses of stone that came down
with incredible noise and violence, against which no man could stand;
for they knocked down those upon whom they fell, in heaps, breaking all
their ranks and files. In the meantime huge poles thrust out from the
walls over the ships, sunk some by the great weights which they let
down from on high upon them; others they lifted up into the air by an
iron hand or beak like a crane's beak, and, when they had drawn them up
by the prow, and set them on end upon the poop, they plunged them to
the bottom of the sea; or else the ships, drawn by engines within, and
whirled about, were dashed against steep rocks that stood jutting out
under the walls, with great destruction of the soldiers that were
aboard them. A ship was frequently lifted up to a great height in the
air (a dreadful thing to behold), and was rolled to and fro, and kept
swinging, until the mariners were all thrown out, when at length it was
dashed against the rocks, or let fall. At the engine that Marcellus
brought upon the bridge of ships, which was called Sambuca from some
resemblance it had to an instrument of music, while it was as yet
approaching the wall, there was discharged a piece of a rock of ten
talents' weight, then a second and a third, which, striking upon it
with immense force and with a noise like thunder, broke all its
foundation to pieces, shook out all its fastenings, and completely
dislodged it from the bridge. So Marcellus, doubtful what counsel to
pursue, drew off his ships to a safer distance, and sounded a retreat
to his forces on land. They then took a resolution of coming up under
the walls, if it were possible, in the night; thinking that as
Archimedes used ropes stretched at length in playing his engines, the
soldiers would now be under the shot, and the darts would, for want of
sufficient distance to throw them, fly over their heads without effect.
But he, it appeared, had long before framed for such occasion engines
accommodated to any distance, and shorter weapons; and had made
numerous small openings in the walls, through which, with engines of a
shorter range, unexpected blows were inflicted on the assailants. Thus,
when they who thought to deceive the defenders came close up to the
walls, instantly a shower of darts and other missile weapons was again
cast upon them. And when stones came tumbling down perpendicularly upon
their heads, and, as it were, the whole wall shot out arrows at them,
they retired. And now, again, as they were going off, arrows and darts
of a longer range indicted a great slaughter among them, and their
ships were driven one against another; while they themselves were not
able to retaliate in any way. For Archimedes had provided and fixed
most of his engines immediately under the wall; whence the Romans,
seeing that infinite mischiefs overwhelmed them from no visible means,
began to think they were fighting with the gods.
Yet Marcellus escaped unhurt, and, deriding his own artificers and
engineers, "What," said he, "must we give up fighting with this
geometrical Briareus, who plays pitch and toss with our ships, and,
with the multitude of darts which he showers at a single moment upon
us, really outdoes the hundred-handed giants of mythology?" And,
doubtless, the rest of the Syracusans were but the body of Archimedes'
designs, one soul moving and governing all; for, laying aside all other
arms, with his alone they infested the Romans, and protected
themselves. In fine, when such terror had seized upon the Romans, that,
if they did but see a little rope or a piece of wood from the wall,
instantly crying out, that there it was again, Archimedes was about to
let fly some engine at them, they turned their backs and fled,
Marcellus desisted from conflicts and assaults, putting all his hope in
a long siege. Yet Archimedes possessed so high a spirit, so profound a
soul, and such treasures of scientific knowledge, that though these
inventions had now obtained him the renown of more than human sagacity,
he yet would not deign to leave behind him any commentary or writing on
such subjects; but, repudiating as sordid and ignoble the whole trade
of engineering, and every sort of art that lends itself to mere use and
profit, he placed his whole affection and ambition in those purer
speculations where there can be no reference to the vulgar needs of
life; studies, the superiority of which to all others is unquestioned,
and in which the only doubt can be, whether the beauty and grandeur of
the subjects examined, or the precision and cogency of the methods and
means of proof, most deserve our admiration. It is not possible to find
in all geometry more difficult and intricate questions, or more simple
and lucid explanations. Some ascribe this to his natural genius; while
others think that incredible effort and toil produced these, to all
appearance, easy and unlabored results. No amount of investigation of
yours would succeed in attaining the proof, and yet, once seen, you
immediately believe you would have discovered it; by so smooth and so
rapid a path he leads you to the conclusion required. And thus it
ceases to be incredible that (as is commonly told of him), the charm of
his familiar and domestic Siren made him forget his food and neglect
his person, to that degree that when he was occasionally carried by
absolute violence to bathe, or have his body anointed, he used to trace
geometrical figures in the ashes of the fire, and diagrams in the oil
on his body, being in a state of entire preoccupation, and, in the
truest sense, divine possession with his love and delight in science.
His discoveries were numerous and admirable; but he is said to have
requested his friends and relations that when he was dead, they would
place over his tomb a sphere containing a cylinder, inscribing it with
the ratio which the containing solid bears to the contained.
Such was Archimedes, who now showed himself, and, so far as lay in him,
the city also, invincible. While the siege continued, Marcellus took
Megara, one of the earliest founded of the Greek cities in Sicily, and
capturing also the camp of Hippocrates at Acilae, killed above eight
thousand men, having attacked them whilst they were engaged in forming
their fortifications. He overran a great part of Sicily; gained over
many towns from the Carthaginians, and overcame all that dared to
encounter him. As the siege went on, one Damippus, a Lacedaemonian,
putting to sea in a ship from Syracuse, was taken. When the Syracusans
much desired to redeem this man, and there were many meetings and
treaties about the matter betwixt them and Marcellus, he had
opportunity to notice a tower into which a body of men might be
secretly introduced, as the wall near to it was not difficult to
surmount, and it was itself carelessly guarded. Coming often thither,
and entertaining conferences about the release of Damippus, he had
pretty well calculated the height of the tower, and got ladders
prepared. The Syracusans celebrated a feast to Diana; this juncture of
time, when they were given up entirely to wine and sport, Marcellus
laid hold of, and, before the citizens perceived it, not only possessed
himself of the tower, but, before the break of day, filled the wall
around with soldiers, and made his way into the Hexapylum. The
Syracusans now beginning to stir, and to be alarmed at the tumult, he
ordered the trumpets everywhere to sound, and thus frightened them all
into flight, as if all parts of the city were already won, though the
most fortified, and the fairest, and most ample quarter was still
ungained. It is called Acradina, and was divided by a wall from the
outer city, one part of which they call Neapolis, the other Tycha.
Possessing himself of these, Marcellus, about break of day, entered
through the Hexapylum, all his officers congratulating him. But looking
down from the higher places upon the beautiful and spacious city below,
he is said to have wept much, commiserating the calamity that hung over
it, when his thoughts represented to him, how dismal and foul the face
of the city would in a few hours be, when plundered and sacked by the
soldiers. For among the officers of his army there was not one man that
durst deny the plunder of the city to the soldiers' demands; nay, many
were instant that it should be set on fire and laid level to the
ground: but this Marcellus would not listen to. Yet he granted, but
with great unwillingness and reluctance, that the money and slaves
should be made prey; giving orders, at the same time, that none should
violate any free person, nor kill, misuse, or make a slave of any of
the Syracusans. Though he had used this moderation, he still esteemed
the condition of that city to be pitiable, and, even amidst the
congratulations and joy, showed his strong feelings of sympathy and
commiseration at seeing all the riches accumulated during a long
felicity, now dissipated in an hour. For it is related, that no less
prey and plunder was taken here, than afterward in Carthage. For not
long after, they obtained also the plunder of the other parts of the
city, which were taken by treachery; leaving nothing untouched but the
king's money, which was brought into the public treasury. But nothing
afflicted Marcellus so much as the death of Archimedes; who was then,
as fate would have it, intent upon working out some problem by a
diagram, and having fixed his mind alike and his eyes upon the subject
of his speculation, he never noticed the incursion of the Romans, nor
that the city was taken. In this transport of study and contemplation,
a soldier, unexpectedly coming up to him, commanded him to follow to
Marcellus; which he declining to do before he had worked out his
problem to a demonstration, the soldier, enraged, drew his sword and
ran him through. Others write, that a Roman soldier, running upon him
with a drawn sword, offered to kill him; and that Archimedes, looking
back, earnestly besought him to hold his hand a little while, that he
might not leave what he was then at work upon inconclusive and
imperfect; but the soldier, nothing moved by his entreaty, instantly
killed him. Others again relate, that as Archimedes was carrying to
Marcellus mathematical instruments, dials, spheres, and angles, by
which the magnitude of the sun might be measured to the sight, some
soldiers seeing him, and thinking that he carried gold in a vessel,
slew him. Certain it is, that his death was very afflicting to
Marcellus; and that Marcellus ever after regarded him that killed him
as a murderer; and that he sought for his kindred and honored them with
signal favors.
Indeed, foreign nations had held the Romans to be excellent soldiers
and formidable in battle; but they had hitherto given no memorable
example of gentleness, or humanity, or civil virtue; and Marcellus
seems first to have shown to the Greeks, that his countrymen were most
illustrious for their justice. For such was his moderation to all with
whom he had anything to do, and such his benignity also to many cities
and private men, that, if anything hard or severe was decreed
concerning the people of Enna, Megara, or Syracuse, the blame was
thought to belong rather to those upon whom the storm fell, than to
those who brought it upon them. One example of many I will commemorate.
In Sicily there is a town called Engyium, not indeed great, but very
ancient and ennobled by the presence of the goddesses, called the
Mothers. The temple, they say, was built by the Cretans; and they show
some spears and brazen helmets, inscribed with the names of Meriones,
and (with the same spelling as in Latin) of Ulysses, who consecrated
them to the goddesses. This city highly favoring the party of the
Carthaginians, Nicias, the most eminent of the citizens, counseled them
to go over to the Romans; to that end acting freely and openly in
harangues to their assemblies, arguing the imprudence and madness of
the opposite course. They, fearing his power and authority, resolved to
deliver him in bonds to the Carthaginians. Nicias, detecting the
design, and seeing that his person was secretly kept in watch,
proceeded to speak irreligiously to the vulgar of the Mothers, and
showed many signs of disrespect, as if he denied and contemned the
received opinion of the presence of those goddesses; his enemies the
while rejoicing, that he, of his own accord, sought the destruction
hanging over his head. When they were just now about to lay hands upon
him, an assembly was held, and here Nicias, making a speech to the
people concerning some affair then under deliberation, in the midst of
his address, cast himself upon the ground; and soon after, while
amazement (as usually happens on such surprising occasions) held the
assembly immovable, raising and turning his head round, he began in a
trembling and deep tone, but by degrees raised and sharpened his voice.
When he saw the whole theater struck with horror and silence, throwing
off his mantle and rending his tunic, he leaps up half naked, and runs
towards the door, crying out aloud that he was driven by the wrath of
the Mothers. When no man durst, out of religious fear, lay hands upon
him or stop him, but all gave way before him, he ran out of the gate,
not omitting any shriek or gesture of men possessed and mad. His wife,
conscious of his counterfeiting, and privy to his design, taking her
children with her, first cast herself as a suppliant before the temple
of the goddesses; then, pretending to seek her wandering husband, no
man hindering her, went out of the town in safety; and by this means
they all escaped to Marcellus at Syracuse. After many other such
affronts offered him by the men of Engyium, Marcellus, having taken
them all prisoners and cast them into bonds, was preparing to inflict
upon them the last punishment; when Nicias, with tears in his eyes,
addressed himself to him. In fine, casting himself at Marcellus's feet,
and deprecating for his citizens, he begged most earnestly their lives,
chiefly those of his enemies. Marcellus, relenting, set them all at
liberty, and rewarded Nicias with ample lands and rich presents. This
history is recorded by Posidonius the philosopher.
Marcellus, at length recalled by the people of Rome to the immediate
war at home, to illustrate his triumph, and adorn the city, carried
away with him a great number of the most beautiful ornaments of
Syracuse. For, before that, Rome neither had, nor had seen, any of
those fine and exquisite rarities; nor was any pleasure taken in
graceful and elegant pieces of workmanship. Stuffed with barbarous arms
and spoils stained with blood, and everywhere crowned with triumphal
memorials and trophies, she was no pleasant or delightful spectacle for
the eyes of peaceful or refined spectators: but, as Epaminondas named
the fields of Boeotia the stage of Mars; and Xenophon called Ephesus
the workhouse of war; so, in my judgment, may you call Rome, at that
time, (to use the words of Pindar,) "the precinct of the peaceless
Mars." Whence Marcellus was more popular with the people in general,
because he had adorned the city with beautiful objects that had all the
charms of Grecian grace and symmetry; but Fabius Maximus, who neither
touched nor brought away anything of this kind from Tarentum, when he
had taken it, was more approved of by the elder men. He carried off the
money and valuables, but forbade the statues to be moved; adding, as it
is commonly related, "Let us leave to the Tarentines these offended
gods." They blamed Marcellus, first, for placing the city in an
invidious position, as it seemed now to celebrate victories and lead
processions of triumph, not only over men, but also over the gods as
captives; then, that he had diverted to idleness, and vain talk about
curious arts and artificers, the common people, which, bred up in wars
and agriculture, had never tasted of luxury and sloth, and, as
Euripides said of Hercules, had been
Rude, unrefined, only for great things good,
so that now they misspent much of their time in examining and
criticizing trifles. And yet, notwithstanding this reprimand, Marcellus
made it his glory to the Greeks themselves, that he had taught his
ignorant countrymen to esteem and admire the elegant and wonderful
productions of Greece.
But when the envious opposed his being brought triumphant into the
city, because there were some relics of the war in Sicily, and a third
triumph would be looked upon with jealousy, he gave way. He triumphed
upon the Alban mount, and thence entered the city in ovation, as it is
called in Latin, in Greek eua; but in this ovation he was neither
carried in a chariot, nor crowned with laurel, nor ushered by trumpets
sounding; but went afoot with shoes on, many flutes or pipes sounding
in concert, while he passed along, wearing a garland of myrtle, in a
peaceable aspect, exciting rather love and respect than fear. Whence I
am, by conjecture, led to think that, originally, the difference
observed betwixt ovation and triumph, did not depend upon the greatness
of the achievements, but the manner of performing them. For they who,
having fought a set battle, and slain the enemy, returned victors, led
that martial, terrible triumph, and, as the ordinary custom then was,
in lustrating the army, adorned the arms and the soldiers with a great
deal of laurel. But they who, without force, by colloquy, persuasion,
and reasoning, had done the business, to these captains custom gave the
honor of the unmilitary and festive ovation. For the pipe is the badge
of peace, and myrtle the plant of Venus, who more than the rest of the
gods and goddesses abhors force and war. It is called ovation, not, as
most think, from the Greek euasmus, because they act it with shouting
and cries of Eau: for so do they also the proper triumphs. The Greeks
have wrested the word to their own language, thinking that this honor,
also, must have some connection with Bacchus, who in Greek has the
titles of Euius and Thriambus. But the thing is otherwise. For it was
the custom for commanders, in their triumph, to immolate an ox, but in
their ovation, a sheep: hence they named it Ovation, from the Latin
ovis. It is worth observing, how exactly opposite the sacrifices
appointed by the Spartan legislator are, to those of the Romans. For at
Lacedaemon, a captain, who had performed the work he undertook by
cunning, or courteous treaty, on laying down his command immolated an
ox; he that did the business by battle, offered a cock; the
Lacedaemonians, though most warlike, thinking an exploit performed by
reason and wisdom, to be more excellent and more congruous to man, than
one effected by mere force and courage. Which of the two is to be
preferred, I leave to the determination of others.
Marcellus being the fourth time consul, his enemies suborned the
Syracusans to come to Rome to accuse him, and to complain that they had
suffered indignities and wrongs, contrary to the conditions granted
them. It happened that Marcellus was in the capitol offering sacrifice
when the Syracusans petitioned the senate, yet sitting, that they might
have leave to accuse him and present their grievances. Marcellus's
colleague, eager to protect him in his absence, put them out of the
court. But Marcellus himself came as soon as he heard of it. And first,
in his curule chair as consul, he referred to the senate the cognizance
of other matters; but when these were transacted, rising from his seat,
he passed as a private man into the place where the accused were wont
to make their defense, and gave free liberty to the Syracusans to
impeach him. But they, struck with consternation by his majesty and
confidence, stood astonished, and the power of his presence now, in his
robe of state, appeared far more terrible and severe than it had done
when he was arrayed in armor. Yet reanimated at length by Marcellus's
rivals, they began their impeachment, and made an oration in which
pleas of justice mingled with lamentation and complaint; the sum of
which was, that being allies and friends of the people of Rome, they
had, notwithstanding, suffered things which other commanders had
abstained from inflicting upon enemies. To this Marcellus answered;
that they had committed many acts of hostility against the people of
Rome, and had suffered nothing but what enemies conquered and captured
in war cannot possibly be protected from suffering: that it was their
own fault they had been made captives, because they refused to give ear
to his frequent attempts to persuade them by gentle means: neither were
they forced into war by the power of tyrants, but had rather chosen the
tyrants themselves for the express object that they might make war. The
orations ended, and the Syracusans, according to the custom, having
retired, Marcellus left his colleague to ask the sentences, and
withdrawing with the Syracusans, staid expecting at the doors of the
senate-house; not in the least discomposed in spirit, either with alarm
at the accusation, or by anger against the Syracusans; but with perfect
calmness and serenity attending the issue of the cause. The sentences
at length being all asked, and a decree of the senate made in
vindication of Marcellus, the Syracusans, with tears flowing from their
eyes, cast themselves at his knees, beseeching him to forgive
themselves there present, and to be moved by the misery of the rest of
their city, which would ever be mindful of, and grateful for, his
benefits. Thus Marcellus, softened by their tears and distress, was not
only reconciled to the deputies, but ever afterwards continued to find
opportunity of doing kindness to the Syracusans. The liberty which he
had restored to them, and their rights, laws, and goods that were left,
the senate confirmed. Upon which account the Syracusans, besides other
signal honors, made a law, that if Marcellus should at anytime come
into Sicily, or any of his posterity, the Syracusans should wear
garlands and offer public sacrifice to the gods.
After this he moved against Hannibal. And whereas the other consuls and
commanders, since the defeat received at Cannae, had all made use of
the same policy against Hannibal, namely, to decline coming to a battle
with him; and none had had the courage to encounter him in the field,
and put themselves to the decision by the sword; Marcellus entered upon
the opposite course, thinking that Italy would be destroyed by the very
delay by which they looked to wear out Hannibal; and that Fabius, who,
adhering to his cautious policy, waited to see the war extinguished,
while Rome itself meantime wasted away, (like timid physicians, who,
dreading to administer remedies, stay waiting, and believe that what is
the decay of the patient's strength is the decline of the disease,) was
not taking a right course to heal the sickness of his country. And
first, the great cities of the Samnites, which had revolted, came into
his power; in which he found a large quantity of corn and money, and
three thousand of Hannibal's soldiers, that were left for the defense.
After this, the proconsul Cnaeus Fulvius with eleven tribunes of the
soldiers being slain in Apulia, and the greatest part of the army also
at the same time cut off, he dispatched letters to Rome, and bade the
people be of good courage, for that he was now upon the march against
Hannibal, to turn his triumph into sadness. On these letters being
read, Livy writes, that the people were not only not encouraged, but
more discouraged, than before. For the danger, they thought, was but
the greater in proportion as Marcellus was of more value than Fulvius.
He, as he had written, advancing into the territories of the Lucanians,
came up to him at Numistro, and, the enemy keeping himself upon the
hills, pitched his camp in a level plain, and the next day drew forth
his army in order for fight. Nor did Hannibal refuse the challenge.
They fought long and obstinately on both sides, victory yet seeming
undecided, when, after three hours conflict, night hardly parted them.
The next day, as soon as the sun was risen, Marcellus again brought
forth his troops, and ranged them among the dead bodies of the slain,
challenging Hannibal to solve the question by another trial. When he
dislodged and drew off, Marcellus, gathering up the spoils of the
enemies, and burying the bodies of his slain soldiers, closely followed
him. And though Hannibal often used stratagems, and laid ambushes to
entrap Marcellus, yet he could never circumvent him. By skirmishes,
meantime, in all of which he was superior, Marcellus gained himself
such high repute, that, when the time of the Comitia at Rome was near
at hand, the senate thought fit rather to recall the other consul from
Sicily, than to withdraw Marcellus from his conflict with Hannibal; and
on his arrival they bid him name Quintus Fulvius dictator. For the
dictator is created neither by the people, nor by the senate; but the
consul or the praetor, before the popular assembly, pronounces him to
be dictator, whom he himself chooses. Hence he is called dictator,
dicere meaning to name. Others say, that he is named dictator, because
his word is a law, and he orders what he pleases, without submitting it
to the vote. For the Romans call the orders of magistrates, Edicts.
And now because Marcellus's colleague, who was recalled from Sicily,
had a mind to name another man dictator, and would not be forced to
change his opinion, he sailed away by night back to Sicily. So the
common people made an order, that Quintus Fulvius should be chosen
dictator: and the senate, by an express, commanded Marcellus to
nominate him. He obeying proclaimed him dictator according to the order
of the people; but the office of proconsul was continued to himself for
a year. And having arranged with Fabius Maximus, that while he besieged
Tarentum, he himself would, by following Hannibal and drawing him up
and down, detain him from coming to the relief of the Tarentines, he
overtook him at Canusium: and as Hannibal often shifted his camp, and
still declined the combat, he everywhere sought to engage him. At last
pressing upon him while encamping, by light skirmishes he provoked him
to a battle; but night again divided them in the very heat of the
conflict. The next day Marcellus again showed himself in arms, and
brought up his forces in array. Hannibal, in extreme grief, called his
Carthaginians together to an harangue; and vehemently prayed them, to
fight today worthily of all their former successes; "For you see," said
he, "how, after such great victories, we have not liberty to respire,
nor to repose ourselves, though victors; unless we drive this man
back." Then the two armies joining battle, fought fiercely; when the
event of an untimely movement showed Marcellus to have been guilty of
an error. The right wing being hard pressed upon, he commanded one of
the legions to be brought up to the front. This change disturbing the
array and posture of the legions, gave the victory to the enemies; and
there fell two thousand seven hundred Romans. Marcellus, after he had
retreated into his camp, called his soldiers together; "I see," said
he, "many Roman arms and bodies, but I see not so much as one Roman."
To their entreaties for his pardon, he returned a refusal while they
remained beaten, but promised to give it so soon as they should
overcome; and he resolved to bring them into the field again the next
day, that the fame of their victory might arrive at Rome before that of
their flight. Dismissing the assembly, he commanded barley instead of
wheat to be given to those companies that had turned their backs. These
rebukes were so bitter to the soldiers, that though a great number of
them were grievously wounded, yet they relate there was not one to whom
the general's oration was not more painful and smarting than his wounds.
The day breaking, a scarlet toga, the sign of instant battle, was
displayed. The companies marked with ignominy, begged they might be
posted in the foremost place, and obtained their request. Then the
tribunes bring forth the rest of the forces, and draw them up. On news
of which, "O strange!" said Hannibal, "what will you do with this man,
who can bear neither good nor bad fortune? He is the only man who
neither suffers us to rest when he is victor, nor rests himself when he
is overcome. We shall have, it seems, perpetually to fight with him; as
in good success his confidence, and in ill success his shame, still
urges him to some further enterprise?" Then the armies engaged. When
the fight was doubtful, Hannibal commanded the elephants to be brought
into the first battalion, and to be driven upon the van of the Romans.
When the beasts, trampling upon many, soon caused disorder, Flavius, a
tribune of soldiers, snatching an ensign, meets them, and wounding the
first elephant with the spike at the bottom of the ensign staff, puts
him to flight. The beast turned round upon the next, and drove back
both him and the rest that followed. Marcellus, seeing this, pours in
his horse with great force upon the elephants, and upon the enemy
disordered by their flight. The horse, making a fierce impression,
pursued the Carthaginians home to their camp, while the elephants,
wounded, and running upon their own party, caused a considerable
slaughter. It is said, more than eight thousand were slain; of the
Roman army three thousand, and almost all wounded. This gave Hannibal
opportunity to retire in the silence of the night, and to remove to
greater distance from Marcellus; who was kept from pursuing by the
number of his wounded men, and removed, by gentle marches, into
Campania, and spent the summer at Sinuessa, engaged in restoring them.
But as Hannibal, having disentangled himself from Marcellus, ranged
with his army round about the country, and wasted Italy free from all
fear, at Rome Marcellus was evil spoken of. His detractors induced
Publicius Bibulus, tribune of the people, an eloquent and violent man,
to undertake his accusation. He, by assiduous harangues, prevailed upon
the people to withdraw from Marcellus the command of the army; "Seeing
that Marcellus," said he, "after brief exercise in the war, has
withdrawn as it might be from the wrestling ground to the warm baths to
refresh himself." Marcellus, on hearing this, appointed lieutenants
over his camp, and hasted to Rome to refute the charges against him:
and there found ready drawn up an impeachment consisting of these
calumnies. At the day prefixed, in the Flaminian circus, into which
place the people had assembled themselves, Bibulus rose and accused
him. Marcellus himself answered, briefly and simply: but the first and
most approved men of the city spoke largely and in high terms, very
freely advising the people not to show themselves worse judges than the
enemy, condemning Marcellus of timidity, from whom alone of all their
captains the enemy fled, and as perpetually endeavored to avoid
fighting with him, as to fight with others. When they made an end of
speaking, the accuser's hope to obtain judgment so far deceived him,
that Marcellus was not only absolved, but the fifth time created consul.
No sooner had he entered upon this consulate, but he suppressed a great
commotion in Etruria, that had proceeded near to revolt, and visited
and quieted the cities. Then, when the dedication of the temple, which
he had vowed out of his Sicilian spoils to Honor and Virtue, was
objected to by the priests, because they denied that one temple could
be lawfully dedicated to two gods, he began to adjoin another to it,
resenting the priests' opposition, and almost converting the thing into
an omen. And, truly, many other prodigies also affrighted him; some
temples had been struck with lightning, and in Jupiter's temple mice
had gnawed the gold; it was reported also, that an ox had spoke, and
that a boy had been born with a head like an elephant's. All which
prodigies had indeed been attended to, but due reconciliation had not
been obtained from the gods. The aruspices therefore detained him at
Rome, glowing and burning with desire to return to the war. For no man
was ever inflamed with so great desire of any thing, as was he to fight
a battle with Hannibal. It was the subject of his dreams in the night,
the topic of all his consultations with his friends and familiars, nor
did he present to the gods any other wish, but that he might meet
Hannibal in the field. And I think, that he would most gladly have set
upon him, with both armies environed within a single camp. Had he not
been even loaded with honors, and had he not given proofs in many ways
of his maturity of judgment and of prudence equal to that of any
commander, you might have said, that he was agitated by a youthful
ambition, above what became a man of that age: for he had passed the
sixtieth year of his life when he began his fifth consulship.
The sacrifices having been offered, and all that belonged to the
propitiation of the gods performed, according to the prescription of
the diviners, he at last with his colleague went forth to carry on the
war. He tried all possible means to provoke Hannibal, who at that time
had a standing camp betwixt Bantia and Venusia. Hannibal declined an
engagement, but having obtained intelligence that some troops were on
their way to the town of Locri Epizephyrii, placing an ambush under the
little hill of Petelia, he slew two thousand five hundred soldiers.
This incensed Marcellus to revenge; and he therefore moved nearer
Hannibal. Betwixt the two camps was a little hill, a tolerably secure
post, covered with wood; it had steep descents on either side, and
there were springs of water seen trickling down. This place was so fit
and advantageous, that the Romans wondered that Hannibal, who had come
thither before them, had not seized upon it, but had left it to the
enemies. But to him the place had seemed commodious indeed for a camp,
but yet more commodious for an ambuscade; and to that use he chose to
put it. So in the wood and the hollows he hid a number of archers and
spearmen, confident that the commodiousness of the place would allure
the Romans. Nor was he deceived in his expectation. For presently in
the Roman camp they talked and disputed, as if they had all been
captains, how the place ought to be seized, and what great advantage
they should thereby gain upon the enemies, chiefly if they transferred
their camp thither, at any rate, if they strengthened the place with a
fort. Marcellus resolved to go, with a few horse, to view it. Having
called a diviner he proceeded to sacrifice. In the first victim the
aruspex showed him the liver without a head; in the second the head
appeared of unusual size, and all the other indications highly
promising. When these seemed sufficient to free them from the dread of
the former, the diviners declared, that they were all the more
terrified by the latter: because entrails too fair and promising, when
they appear after others that are maimed and monstrous, render the
change doubtful and suspicious But
Nor fire nor brazen wall can keep out fate;
as Pindar observes. Marcellus, therefore, taking with him his colleague
Crispinus, and his son, a tribune of soldiers, with two hundred and
twenty horse at most, (among whom there was not one Roman, but all were
Etruscans, except forty Fregellans, of whose courage and fidelity he
had on all occasions received full proof,) goes to view the place. The
hill was covered with woods all over; on the top of it sat a scout
concealed from the sight of the enemy, but having the Roman camp
exposed to his view. Upon signs received from him, the men that were
placed in ambush, stirred not till Marcellus came near; and then all
starting up in an instant, and encompassing him from all sides,
attacked him with darts, struck about and wounded the backs of those
that fled, and pressed upon those who resisted. These were the forty
Fregellans. For though the Etruscans fled in the very beginning of the
fight, the Fregellans formed themselves into a ring, bravely defending
the consuls, till Crispinus, struck with two darts, turned his horse to
fly away; and Marcellus's side was run through with a lance with a
broad head. Then the Fregellans, also, the few that remained alive,
leaving the fallen consul, and rescuing young Marcellus, who also was
wounded, got into the camp by flight. There were slain not much above
forty; five lictors and eighteen horsemen came alive into the enemy's
hands. Crispinus also died of his wounds a few days after. Such a
disaster as the loss of both consuls in a single engagement, was one
that had never before befallen the Romans.
Hannibal, little valuing the other events, so soon as he was told of
Marcellus's death, immediately hasted to the hilt. Viewing the body,
and continuing for some time to observe its strength and shape, he
allowed not a word to fall from him expressive of the least pride or
arrogancy, nor did he show in his countenance any sign of gladness, as
another perhaps would have done, when his fierce and troublesome enemy
had been taken away; but amazed by so sudden and unexpected an end,
taking off nothing but his ring, gave order to have the body properly
clad and adorned, and honorably burned. The relics, put into a silver
urn, with a crown of gold to cover it, he sent back to his son. But
some of the Numidians setting upon those that were carrying the urn,
took it from them by force, and cast away the bones; which being told
to Hannibal, "It is impossible, it seems then," he said, "to do
anything against the will of God!" He punished the Numidians; but took
no further care of sending or recollecting the bones; conceiving that
Marcellus so fell, and so lay unburied, by a certain fate. So Cornelius
Nepos and Valerius Maximus have left upon record: but Livy and Augustus
Caesar affirm, that the urn was brought to his son, and honored with a
magnificent funeral. Besides the monuments raised for him at Rome,
there was dedicated to his memory at Catana in Sicily, an ample
wrestling place called after him; statues and pictures, out of those he
took from Syracuse, were set up in Samothrace, in the temple of the
gods, named Cabiri, and in that of Minerva at Lindus, where also there
was a statue of him, says Posidonius, with the following inscription:
This was, O stranger, once Rome's star divine, Claudius Marcellus of an
ancient line; To fight her wars seven times her consul made, Low in the
dust her enemies he laid.
The writer of the inscription has added to Marcellus's five consulates,
his two proconsulates. His progeny continued in high honor even down to
Marcellus, son of Octavia, sister of Augustus, whom she bore to her
husband Caius Marcellus; and who died, a bridegroom, in the year of his
aedileship, having not long before married Caesar's daughter. His
mother, Octavia, dedicated the library to his honor and memory, and
Caesar, the theater which bears his name.
COMPARISION OF PELOPIDAS WITH MARCELLUS
These are the memorable things I have found in historians, concerning
Marcellus and Pelopidas. Betwixt which two great men, though in natural
character and manners they nearly resembled each other, because both
were valiant and diligent, daring and high-spirited, there was yet some
diversity in the one point, that Marcellus in many cities which he
reduced under his power, committed great slaughter; but Epaminondas and
Pelopidas never after any victory put men to death, or reduced citizens
to slavery. And we are told, too, that the Thebans would not, had these
been present, have taken the measures they did, against the
Orchomenians. Marcellus's exploits against the Gauls are admirable and
ample; when, accompanied by a few horse, he defeated and put to fight a
vast number of horse and foot together, (an action you cannot easily in
historians find to have been done by any other captain,) and took their
king prisoner. To which honor Pelopidas aspired, but did not attain; he
was killed by the tyrant in the attempt. But to these you may perhaps
oppose those two most glorious battles at Leuctra and Tegyrae; and we
have no statement of any achievement of Marcellus, by stealth or
ambuscade, such as were those of Pelopidas, when he returned from
exile, and killed the tyrants at Thebes; which, indeed, may claim to be
called the first in rank of all achievements ever performed by secrecy
and cunning. Hannibal was, indeed, a most formidable enemy for the
Romans but so for that matter were the Lacedaemonians for the Thebans.
And that these were, in the fights of Leuctra and Tegyrae, beaten and
put to fight by Pelopidas, is confessed; whereas, Polybius writes, that
Hannibal was never so much as once vanquished by Marcellus, but
remained invincible in all encounters, till Scipio came. I myself,
indeed, have followed rather Livy, Caesar, Cornelius Nepos, and, among
the Greeks, king Juba, in stating that the troops of Hannibal were in
some encounters routed and put to flight by Marcellus; but certainly
these defeats conduced little to the sum of the war. It would seem as
if they had been merely feints of some sort on the part of the
Carthaginian. What was indeed truly and really admirable was, that the
Romans, after the defeat of so many armies, the slaughter of so many
captains, and, in fine, the confusion of almost the whole Roman empire,
still showed a courage equal to their losses, and were as willing as
their enemies to engage in new battles. And Marcellus was the one man
who overcame the great and inveterate fear and dread, and revived,
raised, and confirmed the spirits of the soldiers to that degree of
emulation and bravery, that would not let them easily yield the
victory, but made them contend for it to the last. For the same men,
whom continual defeats had accustomed to think themselves happy, if
they could but save themselves by running from Hannibal, were by him
taught to esteem it base and ignominious to return safe but
unsuccessful; to be ashamed to confess that they had yielded one step
in the terrors of the fight; and to grieve to extremity if they were
not victorious.
In short, as Pelopidas was never overcome in any battle, where himself
was present and commanded in chief, and as Marcellus gained more
victories than any of his contemporaries, truly he that could not be
easily overcome, considering his many successes, may fairly be compared
with him who was undefeated. Marcellus took Syracuse; whereas Pelopidas
was frustrated of his hope of capturing Sparta. But in my judgment, it
was more difficult to advance his standard even to the walls of Sparta,
and to be the first of mortals that ever passed the river Eurotas in
arms, than it was to reduce Sicily; unless, indeed, we say that that
adventure is with more of right to be attributed to Epaminondas, as was
also the Leuctrian battle; whereas Marcellus's renown, and the glory of
his brave actions came entire and undiminished to him alone. For he
alone took Syracuse; and without his colleague's help defeated the
Gauls, and, when all others declined, alone, without one companion,
ventured to engage with Hannibal; and changing the aspect of the war
first showed the example of daring to attack him.
I cannot commend the death of either of these great men; the suddenness
and strangeness of their ends gives me a feeling rather of pain and
distress. Hannibal has my admiration, who, in so many severe conflicts,
more than can be reckoned in one day, never received so much as one
wound. I honor Chrysantes also, (in Xenophon's Cyropaedia,) who, having
raised his sword in the act of striking his enemy, so soon as a retreat
was sounded, left him, and retired sedately and modestly. Yet the anger
which provoked Pelopidas to pursue revenge in the heat of fight, may
excuse him.
The first thing for a captain is to gain
Safe victory; the next to be with honor slain,
as Euripides says. For then he cannot be said to suffer death; it is
rather to be called an action. The very object, too, of Pelopidas's
victory, which consisted in the slaughter of the tyrant, presenting
itself to his eyes, did not wholly carry him away unadvisedly: he could
not easily expect again to have another equally glorious occasion for
the exercise of his courage, in a noble and honorable cause. But
Marcellus, when it made little to his advantage, and when no such
violent ardor as present danger naturally calls out transported him to
passion, throwing himself into danger, fell into an unexplored ambush;
he, namely, who had borne five consulates, led three triumphs, won the
spoils and glories of kings and victories, to act the part of a mere
scout or sentinel, and to expose all his achievements to be trod under
foot by the mercenary Spaniards and Numidians, who sold themselves and
their lives to the Carthaginians; so that even they themselves felt
unworthy, and almost grudged themselves the unhoped for success of
having cut off, among a few Fregellan scouts, the most valiant, the
most potent, and most renowned of the Romans. Let no man think that we
have thus spoken out of a design to accuse these noble men; it is
merely an expression of frank indignation in their own behalf, at
seeing them thus wasting all their other virtues upon that of bravery,
and throwing away their lives, as if the loss would be only felt by
themselves, and not by their country, allies, and friends.
After Pelopidas's death, his friends, for whom he died, made a funeral
for him; the enemies, by whom he had been killed, made one for
Marcellus. A noble and happy lot indeed the former, yet there is
something higher and greater in the admiration rendered by enemies to
the virtue that had been their own obstacle, than in the grateful
acknowledgments of friends. Since, in the one case, it is virtue alone
that challenges itself the honor; while, in the other, it may be rather
men's personal profit and advantage that is the real origin of what
they do.
ARISTIDES
Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, was of the tribe Antiochis, and
township of Alopece. As to his wealth, statements differ; some say he
passed his life in extreme poverty, and left behind him two daughters
whose indigence long kept them unmarried: but Demetrius, the Phalerian,
in opposition to this general report, professes in his Socrates, to
know a farm at Phalerum going by Aristides's name, where he was
interred; and, as marks of his opulence, adduces first, the office of
archon eponymus, which he obtained by the lot of the bean; which was
confined to the highest assessed families, called the
Pentacosiomedimni; second, the ostracism, which was not usually
inflicted on the poorer citizens, but on those of great houses, whose
elation exposed them to envy; third and last, that he left certain
tripods in the temple of Bacchus, offerings for his victory in
conducting the representation of dramatic performances, which were even
in our age still to be seen, retaining this inscription upon them, "The
tribe Antiochis obtained the victory: Aristides defrayed the charges:
Archestratus's play was acted." But this argument, though in appearance
the strongest, is of the least moment of any. For Epaminondas, who all
the world knows was educated, and lived his whole life, in much
poverty, and also Plato, the philosopher, exhibited magnificent shows,
the one an entertainment of flute-players the other of dithyrambic
singers; Dion, the Syracusan, supplying the expenses of the latter, and
Pelopidas those of Epaminondas. For good men do not allow themselves in
any inveterate and irreconcilable hostility to receiving presents from
their friends, but while looking upon those that are accepted to be
hoarded up and with avaricious intentions, as sordid and mean, they do
not refuse such as, apart from all profit, gratify the pure love of
honor and magnificence. Panaetius, again, shows that Demetrius was
deceived concerning the tripod by an identity of name. For, from the
Persian war to the end of the Peloponnesian, there are upon record only
two of the name of Aristides, who defrayed the expense of representing
plays and gained the prize neither of which was the same with the son
of Lysimachus; but the father of the one was Xenophilus, and the other
lived at a much later time, as the way of writing, which is that in use
since the time of Euclides, and the addition of the name of
Archestratus prove, a name which, in the time of the Persian war, no
writer mentions, but which several, during the Peloponnesian war,
record as that of a dramatic poet. The argument of Panaetius requires
to be more closely considered. But as for the ostracism, everyone was
liable to it, whom his reputation, birth, or eloquence raised above the
common level; insomuch that even Damon, preceptor to Pericles, was thus
banished, because he seemed a man of more than ordinary sense. And,
moreover, Idomeneus says, that Aristides was not made archon by the lot
of the bean, but the free election of the people. And if he held the
office after the battle of Plataea, as Demetrius himself has written,
it is very probable that his great reputation and success in the war,
made him be preferred for his virtue to an office which others received
in consideration of their wealth. But Demetrius manifestly is eager not
only to exempt Aristides but Socrates likewise, from poverty, as from a
great evil; telling us that the latter had not only a house of his own,
but also seventy minae put out at interest with Crito.
Aristides being the friend and supporter of that Clisthenes, who
settled the government after the expulsion of the tyrants, and
emulating and admiring Lycurgus the Lacedaemonian above all
politicians, adhered to the aristocratical principles of government;
and had Themistocles, son to Neocles, his adversary on the side of the
populace. Some say that, being boys and bred up together from their
infancy, they were always at variance with each other in all their
words and actions as well serious as playful, and that in this their
early contention they soon made proof of their natural inclinations;
the one being ready, adventurous, and subtle, engaging readily and
eagerly in everything; the other of a staid and settled temper, intent
on the exercise of justice, not admitting any degree of falsity,
indecorum, or trickery, no, not so much as at his play. Ariston of
Chios says the first origin of the enmity which rose to so great a
height, was a love affair; they were rivals for the affection of the
beautiful Stesilaus of Ceos, and were passionate beyond all moderation,
and did not lay aside their animosity when the beauty that had excited
it passed away; but, as if it had only exercised them in it,
immediately carried their heats and differences into public business.
Themistocles, therefore, joining an association of partisans, fortified
himself with considerable strength; insomuch that when some one told
him that were he impartial, he would make a good magistrate; "I wish,"
replied he, "I may never sit on that tribunal where my friends shall
not plead a greater privilege than strangers." But Aristides walked, so
to say, alone on his own path in politics, being unwilling, in the
first place, to go along with his associates in ill doing, or to cause
them vexation by not gratifying their wishes; and, secondly, observing
that many were encouraged by the support they had in their friends to
act injuriously, he was cautious; being of opinion that the integrity
of his words and actions was the only right security for a good citizen.
However, Themistocles making many dangerous alterations, and
withstanding and interrupting him in the whole series of his actions,
Aristides also was necessitated to set himself against all Themistocles
did, partly in self-defense, and partly to impede his power from still
increasing by the favor of the multitude; esteeming it better to let
slip some public conveniences, rather than that he by prevailing should
become powerful in all things. In fine, when he once had opposed
Themistocles in some measures that were expedient, and had got the
better of him, he could not refrain from saying, when he left the
assembly, that unless they sent Themistocles and himself to the
barathrum, there could be no safety for Athens. Another time, when
urging some proposal upon the people, though there were much opposition
and stirring against it, he yet was gaining the day; but just as the
president of the assembly was about to put it to the vote, perceiving
by what had been said in debate the inexpediency of his advice, he let
it fall. Also he often brought in his bills by other persons, lest
Themistocles, through party spirit against him, should be any hindrance
to the good of the public.
In all the vicissitudes of public affairs, the constancy he showed was
admirable, not being elated with honors, and demeaning himself
tranquilly and sedately in adversity; holding the opinion that he ought
to offer himself to the service of his country without mercenary news
and irrespectively of any reward, not only of riches, but even of glory
itself. Hence it came, probably, that at the recital of these verses of
Aeschylus in the theater, relating to Amphiaraus,
For not at seeming just, but being so
He aims; and from his depth of soil below,
Harvests of wise and prudent counsels grow,
the eyes of all the spectators turned on Aristides, as if this virtue,
in an especial manner, belonged to him.
He was a most determined champion for justice, not only against
feelings of friendship and favor, but wrath and malice. Thus it is
reported of him that when prosecuting the law against one who was his
enemy, on the judges after accusation refusing to hear the criminal,
and proceeding immediately to pass sentence upon him, he rose in haste
from his seat and joined in petition with him for a hearing, and that
he might enjoy the privilege of the law. Another time, when judging
between two private persons, on the one declaring his adversary had
very much injured Aristides; "Tell me rather, good friend," he said,
"what wrong he has done you: for it is your cause, not my own, which I
now sit judge of." Being chosen to the charge of the public revenue, he
made it appear that not only those of his time, but the preceding
officers, had alienated much treasure, and especially Themistocles:--
Well known he was an able man to be,
But with his fingers apt to be too flee.
Therefore, Themistocles associating several persons against Aristides,
and impeaching him when he gave in his accounts, caused him to be
condemned of robbing the public; so Idomeneus states; but the best and
chiefest men of the city much resenting it, he was not only exempted
from the fine imposed upon him, but likewise again called to the same
employment. Pretending now to repent him of his former practice, and
carrying himself with more remissness, he became acceptable to such as
pillaged the treasury, by not detecting or calling them to an exact
account. So that those who had their fill of the public money began
highly to applaud Aristides, and sued to the people, making interest to
have him once more chosen treasurer. But when they were upon the point
of election, he reproved the Athenians. "When I discharged my office
well and faithfully," said he, "I was insulted and abused; but now that
I have allowed the public thieves in a variety of malpractices, I am
considered an admirable patriot. I am more ashamed, therefore, of this
present honor than of the former sentence; and I commiserate your
condition, with whom it is more praiseworthy to oblige ill men than to
conserve the revenue of the public." Saying thus, and proceeding to
expose the thefts that had been committed, he stopped the mouths of
those who cried him up and vouched for him, but gained real and true
commendation from the best men.
When Datis, being sent by Darius under pretense of punishing the
Athenians for their burning of Sardis, but in reality to reduce the
Greeks under his dominion, landed at Marathon and laid waste the
country, among the ten commanders appointed by the Athenians for the
war, Militiades was of the greatest name; but the second place, both
for reputation and power, was possessed by Aristides: and when his
opinion to join battle was added to that of Miltiades, it did much to
incline the balance. Every leader by his day having the command in
chief when it came to Aristides' turn, he delivered it into the hands
of Miltiades, showing his fellow officers, that it is not dishonorable
to obey and follow wise and able men, but, on the contrary, noble and
prudent. So appeasing their rivalry, and bringing them to acquiesce in
one and the best advice, he confirmed Miltiades in the strength of an
undivided and unmolested authority. For now everyone, yielding his day
of command, looked for orders only to him. During the fight the main
body of the Athenians being the hardest put to it, the barbarians, for
a long time, making opposition there against the tribes Leontis and
Antiochis, Themistocles and Aristides being ranged together, fought
valiantly; the one being of the tribe Leontis, the other of the
Antiochis. But after they had beaten the barbarians back to their
ships, and perceived that they sailed not for the isles, but were
driven in by the force of sea and wind towards the country of Attica;
fearing lest they should take the city, unprovided of defense, they
hurried away thither with nine tribes, and reached it the same day.
Aristides, being left with his tribe at Marathon to guard the plunder
and prisoners, did not disappoint the opinion they had of him. Amidst
the profusion of gold and silver, all sorts of apparel, and other
property, more than can be mentioned, that were in the tents and the
vessels which they had taken, he neither felt the desire to meddle with
anything himself, nor suffered others to do it; unless it might be some
who took away anything unknown to him; as Callias, the torchbearer,
did. One of the barbarians, it seems, prostrated himself before this
man, supposing him to be a king by his hair and fillet; and, when he
had so done, taking him by the hand, showed him a great quantity of
gold hid in a ditch. But Callias, most cruel and impious of men, took
away the treasure, but slew the man, lest he should tell of him. Hence,
they say, the comic poets gave his family the name of Laccopluti, or
enriched by the ditch, alluding to the place where Callias found the
gold. Aristides, immediately after this, was archon; although
Demetrius, the Phalerian, says he held the office a little before he
died, after the battle of Plataea. But in the records of the successors
of Xanthippides, in whose year Mardonius was overthrown at Plataea,
amongst very many there mentioned, there is not so much as one of the
same name as Aristides: while immediately after Phaenippus, during
whose term of office they obtained the victory of Marathon, Aristides
is registered.
Of all his virtues, the common people were most affected with his
justice, because of its continual and common use; and thus, although of
mean fortune and ordinary birth, he possessed himself of the most
kingly and divine appellation of Just; which kings, however, and
tyrants have never sought after; but have taken delight to be surnamed
besiegers of cities, thunderers, conquerors, or eagles again, and hawks
; affecting, it seems, the reputation which proceeds from power and
violence, rather than that of virtue. Although the divinity, to whom
they desire to compare and assimilate themselves, excels, it is
supposed, in three things, immortality, power, and virtue; of which
three, the noblest and divinest is virtue. For the elements and vacuum
have an everlasting existence; earthquakes, thunders, storms, and
torrents have great power; but in justice and equity nothing
participates except by means of reason and the knowledge of that which
is divine. And thus, taking the three varieties of feeling commonly
entertained towards the deity, the sense of his happiness, fear, and
honor of him, people would seem to think him blest and happy for his
exemption from death and corruption, to fear and dread him for his
power and dominion, but to love, honor, and adore him for his justice.
Yet though thus disposed, they covet that immortality which our nature
is not capable of, and that power the greatest part of which is at the
disposal of fortune; but give virtue, the only divine good really in
our reach, the last place, most unwisely; since justice makes the life
of such as are in prosperity, power, and authority the life of a god,
and injustice turns it to that of a beast.
Aristides, therefore, had at first the fortune to be beloved for this
surname, but at length envied. Especially when Themistocles spread a
rumor amongst the people, that, by determining and judging all matters
privately, he had destroyed the courts of judicature, and was secretly
making way for a monarchy in his own person, without the assistance of
guards. Moreover, the spirit of the people, now grown high, and
confident with their late victory, naturally entertained feelings of
dislike to all of more than common fame and reputation. Coming
together, therefore, from all parts into the city, they banished
Aristides by the ostracism, giving their jealousy of his reputation the
name of fear of tyranny. For ostracism was not the punishment of any
criminal act, but was speciously said to be the mere depression and
humiliation of excessive greatness and power; and was in fact a gentle
relief and mitigation of envious feeling, which was thus allowed to
vent itself in inflicting no intolerable injury, only a ten years'
banishment. But after it came to be exercised upon base and villainous
fellows, they desisted from it; Hyperbolus, being the last whom they
banished by the ostracism.
The cause of Hyperbolus's banishment is said to have been this.
Alcibiades and Nicias, men that bore the greatest sway in the city,
were of different factions. As the people, therefore, were about to
vote the ostracism, and obviously to decree it against one of them,
consulting together and uniting their parties, they contrived the
banishment of Hyperbolus. Upon which the people, being offended, as if
some contempt or affront was put upon the thing, left off and quite
abolished it. It was performed, to be short, in this manner. Every one
taking an ostracon, a sherd, that is, or piece of earthenware, wrote
upon it the citizen's name he would have banished, and carried it to a
certain part of the market-place surrounded with wooden rails. First,
the magistrates numbered all the sherds in gross (for if there were
less than six thousand, the ostracism was imperfect); then, laying
every name by itself, they pronounced him whose name was written by the
larger number, banished for ten years, with the enjoyment of his
estate. As, therefore, they were writing the names on the sherds, it is
reported that an illiterate clownish fellow, giving Aristides his
sherd, supposing him a common citizen, begged him to write Aristides
upon it; and he being surprised and asking if Aristides had ever done
him any injury, "None at all," said he, "neither know I the man; but I
am tired of hearing him everywhere called the Just." Aristides, hearing
this, is said to have made no reply, but returned the sherd with his
own name inscribed. At his departure from the city, lifting up his
hands to heaven, he made a prayer, (the reverse, it would seem, of that
of Achilles,) that the Athenians might never have any occasion which
should constrain them to remember Aristides.
Nevertheless, three years after, when Xerxes marched through Thessaly
and Boeotia into the country of Attica, repealing the law, they decreed
the return of the banished: chiefly fearing Aristides, lest, joining
himself to the enemy, he should corrupt and bring over many of his
fellow-citizens to the party of the barbarians; much mistaking the man,
who, already before the decree, was exerting himself to excite and
encourage the Greeks to the defense of their liberty. And afterwards,
when Themistocles was general with absolute power, he assisted him in
all ways both in action and counsel; rendering, in consideration of the
common security, the greatest enemy he had the most glorious of men.
For when Eurybiades was deliberating to desert the isle of Salamis, and
the gallies of the barbarians putting out by night to sea surrounded
and beset the narrow passage and islands, and nobody was aware how they
were environed, Aristides, with great hazard, sailed from Aegina
through the enemy's fleet; and coming by night to Themistocles's tent,
and calling him out by himself; "If we have any discretion," said he,
"Themistocles, laying aside at this time our vain and childish
contention, let us enter upon a safe and honorable dispute, vying with
each other for the preservation of Greece; you in the ruling and
commanding, I in the subservient and advising part; even, indeed, as I
now understand you to be alone adhering to the best advice, in
counseling without any delay to engage in the straits. And in this,
though our own party oppose, the enemy seems to assist you. For the sea
behind, and all around us, is covered with their fleet; so that we are
under a necessity of approving ourselves men of courage, and fighting,
whether we will or no; for there is no room left us for flight." To
which Themistocles answered, "I would not willingly, Aristides, be
overcome by you on this occasion; and shall endeavor, in emulation of
this good beginning, to outdo it in my actions." Also relating to him
the stratagem he had framed against the barbarians, he entreated him to
persuade Eurybiades and show him how it was impossible they should save
themselves without an engagement; as he was the more likely to be
believed. Whence, in the council of war, Cleocritus, the Corinthian,
telling Themistocles that Aristides did not like his advice, as he was
present and said nothing, Aristides answered, That he should not have
held his peace if Themistocles had not been giving the best advice; and
that he was now silent not out of any good-will to the person, but in
approbation of his counsel.
Thus the Greek captains were employed. But Aristides perceiving
Psyttalea, a small island that lies within the straits over against
Salamis, to be filled by a body of the enemy, put aboard his small
boats the most forward and courageous of his countrymen, and went
ashore upon it; and, joining battle with the barbarians, slew them all,
except such more remarkable persons as were taken alive. Amongst these
were three children of Sandauce, the king's sister, whom he immediately
sent away to Themistocles, and it is stated that in accordance with a
certain oracle, they were, by the command of Euphrantides, the seer,
sacrificed to Bacchus, called Omestes, or the devourer. But Aristides,
placing armed men all around the island, lay in wait for such as were
cast upon it, to the intent that none of his friends should perish, nor
any of his enemies escape. For the closest engagement of the ships, and
the main fury of the whole battle, seems to have been about this place;
for which reason a trophy was erected in Psyttalea.
After the fight, Themistocles, to sound Aristides, told him they had
performed a good piece of service, but there was a better yet to be
done, the keeping Asia in Europe, by sailing forthwith to the
Hellespont, and cutting in sunder the bridge. But Aristides, with an
exclamation, bid him think no more of it, but deliberate and find out
means for removing the Mede, as quickly as possible, out of Greece;
lest being enclosed, through want of means to escape, necessity should
compel him to force his way with so great an army. So Themistocles once
more dispatched Arnaces, the eunuch, his prisoner, giving him in
command privately to advertise the king that he had diverted the Greeks
from their intention of setting sail for the bridges, out of the desire
he felt to preserve him.
Xerxes, being much terrified with this, immediately hasted to the
Hellespont. But Mardonius was left with the most serviceable part of
the army, about three hundred thousand men, and was a formidable enemy,
confident in his infantry, and writing messages of defiance to the
Greeks: "You have overcome by sea men accustomed to fight on land, and
unskilled at the oar; but there lies now the open country of Thessaly;
and the plains of Boeotia offer a broad and worthy field for brave men,
either horse or foot, to contend in." But he sent privately to the
Athenians, both by letter and word of mouth from the king, promising to
rebuild their city, to give them a vast sum of money, and constitute
them lords of all Greece on condition they were not engaged in the war.
The Lacedaemonians, receiving news of this, and fearing, dispatched an
embassy to the Athenians, entreating that they would send their wives
and children to Sparta, and receive support from them for their
superannuated. For, being despoiled both of their city and country, the
people were suffering extreme distress. Having given audience to the
ambassadors, they returned an answer, upon the motion of Aristides,
worthy of the highest admiration; declaring, that they forgave their
enemies if they thought all things purchasable by wealth, than which
they knew nothing of greater value; but that they felt offended at the
Lacedaemonians, for looking only to their present poverty and exigence,
without any remembrance of their valor and magnanimity, offering them
their victuals, to fight in the cause of Greece. Aristides, making this
proposal and bringing back the ambassadors into the assembly, charged
them to tell the Lacedaemonians that all the treasure on the earth or
under it, was of less value with the people of Athens, than the liberty
of Greece. And, showing the sun to those who came from Mardonius, "as
long as that retains the same course, so long," said he, "shall the
citizens of Athens wage war with the Persians for the country which has
been wasted, and the temples that have been profaned and burnt by
them." Moreover, he proposed a decree, that the priests should
anathematize him who sent any herald to the Medes, or deserted the
alliance of Greece.
When Mardonius made a second incursion into the country of Attica, the
people passed over again into the isle of Salamis. Aristides, being
sent to Lacedaemon, reproved them for their delay and neglect in
abandoning Athens once more to the barbarians; and demanded their
assistance for that part of Greece, which was not yet lost. The Ephori,
hearing this, made show of sporting all day, and of carelessly keeping
holy day, (for they were then celebrating the Hyacinthian festival,)
but in the night, selecting five thousand Spartans, each of whom was
attended by seven Helots, they sent them forth unknown to those from
Athens. And when Aristides again reprehended them, they told him in
derision that he either doted or dreamed, for the army was already at
Oresteum, in their march towards the strangers; as they called the
Persians. Aristides answered that they jested unseasonably, deluding
their friends, instead of their enemies. Thus says Idomeneus. But in
the decree of Aristides, not himself, but Cimon, Xanthippus, and
Myronides are appointed ambassadors.
Being chosen general for the war, he repaired to Plattea, with eight
thousand Athenians, where Pausanias, generalissimo of all Greece,
joined him with the Spartans; and the forces of the other Greeks came
in to them. The whole encampment of the barbarians extended all along
the bank of the river Asopus, their numbers being so great, there was
no enclosing them all, but their baggage and most valuable things were
surrounded with a square bulwark, each side of which was the length of
ten furlongs.
Tisamenus, the Elean, had prophesied to Pausanias and all the Greeks,
and foretold them victory if they made no attempt upon the enemy, but
stood on their defense. But Aristides sending to Delphi, the god
answered, that the Athenians should overcome their enemies, in case
they made supplication to Jupiter and Juno of Cithaeron, Pan, and the
nymphs Sphragitides, and sacrificed to the heroes Androcrates, Leucon,
Pisander, Damocrates, Hypsion, Actaeon, and Polyidus; and if they
fought within their own territories in the plain of Ceres Eleusinia and
Proserpine. Aristides was perplexed upon the tidings of this oracle:
since the heroes to whom it commanded him to sacrifice had been
chieftains of the Plataeans, and the cave of the nymphs Sphragitides
was on the top of Mount Cithaeron, on the side facing the setting sun
of summer time; in which place, as the story goes, there was formerly
an oracle, and many that lived in the district were inspired with it,
whom they called Nympholepti, possessed with the nymphs. But the plain
of Ceres Eleusinia, and the offer of victory to the Athenians, if they
fought in their own territories, recalled them again, and transferred
the war into the country of Attica. In this juncture, Arimnestus, who
commanded the Plataeans, dreamed that Jupiter, the Saviour, asked him
what the Greeks had resolved upon; and that he answered, "Tomorrow, my
Lord, we march our army to Eleusis, and there give the barbarians
battle according to the directions of the oracle of Apollo." And that
the god replied, they were utterly mistaken, for that the places spoken
of by the oracle were within the bounds of Plataea, and if they sought
there they should find them. This manifest vision having appeared to
Arimnestus, when he awoke he sent for the most aged and experienced of
his countrymen, with whom communicating and examining the matter, he
found that near Hysiae, at the foot of Mount Cithaeron, there was a
very ancient temple called the temple of Ceres Eleusinia and
Proserpine. He therefore forthwith took Aristides to the place, which
was very convenient for drawing up an army of foot, because the slopes
at the bottom of the mountain Cithaeron rendered the plain, where it
comes up to the temple, unfit for the movements of cavalry. Also, in
the same place, there was the fane of Androcrates, environed with a
thick shady grove. And that the oracle might be accomplished in all
particulars for the hope of victory, Arimnestus proposed, and the
Plataeans decreed, that the frontiers of their country towards Attica
should be removed, and the land given to the Athenians, that they might
fight in defense of Greece in their own proper territory. This zeal and
liberality of the Plataeans became so famous, that Alexander, many
years after, when he had obtained the dominion of all Asia, upon
erecting the walls of Plataea, caused proclamation to be made by the
herald at the Olympic games, that the king did the Plataeans this favor
in consideration of their nobleness and magnanimity, because, in the
war with the Medes, they freely gave up their land and zealously fought
with the Greeks.
The Tegeatans, contesting the post of honor with the Athenians,
demanded, that, according to custom, the Lacedaemonians being ranged on
the right wing of the battle, they might have the left, alleging
several matters in commendation of their ancestors. The Athenians being
indignant at the claim, Aristides came forward; "To contend with the
Tegeatans," said he, "for noble descent and valor, the present time
permits not: but this we say to you, O you Spartans, and you the rest
of the Greeks, that place neither takes away nor contributes courage:
we shall endeavor by crediting and maintaining the post you assign us,
to reflect no dishonor on our former performances. For we are come, not
to differ with our friends, but to fight our enemies; not to extol our
ancestors, but ourselves to behave as valiant men. This battle will
manifest how much each city, captain, and private soldier is worth to
Greece." The council of war, upon this address, decided for the
Athenians, and gave them the other wing of the battle.
All Greece being in suspense, and especially the affairs of the
Athenians unsettled, certain persons of great families and possessions
having been impoverished by the war, and seeing all their authority and
reputation in the city vanished with their wealth, and others in
possession of their honors and places, convened privately at a house in
Plataea, and conspired for the dissolution of the democratic
government; and, if the plot should not succeed, to ruin the cause and
betray all to the barbarians. These matters being in agitation in the
camp, and many persons already corrupted, Aristides, perceiving the
design, and dreading the present juncture of time, determined neither
to let the business pass unanimadverted upon, nor yet altogether to
expose it; not knowing how many the accusation might reach, and willing
to set bounds to his justice with a view to the public convenience.
Therefore, of many that were concerned, he apprehended eight only, two
of whom, who were first proceeded against and most guilty, Aeschines of
Lampra, and Agesias of Acharnae, made their escape out of the camp. The
rest he dismissed; giving opportunity to such as thought themselves
concealed, to take courage and repent; intimating that they had in the
war a great tribunal, where they might clear their guilt by manifesting
their sincere and good intentions towards their country.
After this, Mardonius made trial of the Grecian courage, by sending his
whole number of horse, in which he thought himself much the stronger,
against them, while they were all pitched at the foot of Mount
Cithaeron, in strong and rocky places, except the Megarians. They,
being three thousand in number, were encamped on the plain, where they
were damaged by the horse charging and making inroads upon them on all
hands. They sent, therefore, in haste to Pausanias, demanding relief,
as not being able alone to sustain the great numbers of the barbarians.
Pausanias, hearing this, and perceiving the tents of the Megarians
already hid by the multitude of darts and arrows, and themselves driven
together into a narrow space, was at a loss himself how to aid them
with his battalion of heavy-armed Lacedaemonians. He proposed it,
therefore, as a point of emulation in valor and love of distinction, to
the commanders and captains who were around him, if any would
voluntarily take upon them the defense and succor of the Megarians. The
rest being backward, Aristides undertook the enterprise for the
Athenians, and sent Olympiodorus, the most valiant of his inferior
officers, with three hundred chosen men and some archers under his
command. These being soon in readiness, and running upon the enemy, as
soon as Masistius, who commanded the barbarians' horse, a man of
wonderful courage and of extraordinary bulk and comeliness of person,
perceived it, turning his steed he made towards them. And they
sustaining the shock and joining battle with him, there was a sharp
conflict, as though by this encounter they were to try the success of
the whole war. But after Masistius's horse received a wound, and flung
him, and he falling could hardly raise himself through the weight of
his armor, the Athenians, pressing upon him with blows, could not
easily get at his person, armed as he was, his breast, his head, and
his limbs all over, with gold and brass and iron; but one of them at
last, running him in at the visor of his helmet, slew him; and the rest
of the Persians, leaving the body, fled. The greatness of the Greek
success was known, not by the multitude of the slain, (for an
inconsiderable number were killed,) but by the sorrow the barbarians
expressed. For they shaved themselves, their horses, and mules for the
death of Masistius, and filled the plain with howling and lamentation;
having lost a person, who, next to Mardonius himself, was by many
degrees the chief among them, both for valor and authority.
After this skirmish of the horse, they kept from fighting a long time;
for the soothsayers, by the sacrifices, foretold the victory both to
Greeks and Persians, if they stood upon the defensive part only, but if
they became aggressors, the contrary. At length Mardonius, when he had
but a few days' provision, and the Greek forces increased continually
by some or other that came in to them, impatient of delay, determined
to lie still no longer, but, passing Asopus by daybreak, to fall
unexpectedly upon the Greeks; and signified the same over night to the
captains of his host. But about midnight, a certain horseman stole into
the Greek camp, and coming to the watch, desired them to call
Aristides, the Athenian, to him. He coming speedily; "I am," said the
stranger, "Alexander, king of the Macedonians, and am arrived here
through the greatest danger in the world for the good-will I bear you,
lest a sudden onset should dismay you, so as to behave in the fight
worse than usual. For tomorrow Mardonius will give you battle, urged,
not by any hope of success or courage, but by want of victuals; since,
indeed, the prophets prohibit him the battle, the sacrifices and
oracles being unfavorable; and the army is in despondency and
consternation; but necessity forces him to try his fortune, or sit
still and endure the last extremity of want." Alexander, thus saying,
entreated Aristides to take notice and remember him, but not to tell
any other. But he told him, it was not convenient to conceal the matter
from Pausanias (because he was general); as for any other, he would
keep it secret from them till the battle was fought; but if the Greeks
obtained the victory, that then no one should be ignorant of
Alexander's good-will and kindness towards them. After this, the king
of the Macedonians rode back again, and Aristides went to Pausanias's
tent and told him; and they sent for the rest of the captains and gave
orders that the army should be in battle array.
Here, according to Herodotus, Pausanias spoke to Aristides, desiring
him to transfer the Athenians to the right wing of the army opposite to
the Persians, (as they would do better service against them, having
been experienced in their way of combat, and emboldened with former
victories,) and to give him the left, where the Medizing Greeks were to
make their assault. The rest of the Athenian captains regarded this as
an arrogant and interfering act on the part of Pausanias; because,
while permitting the rest of the army to keep their stations, he
removed them only from place to place, like so many Helots, opposing
them to the greatest strength of the enemy. But Aristides said, they
were altogether in the wrong. If so short a time ago they contested the
left wing with the Tegeatans, and gloried in being preferred before
them, now, when the Lacedaemonians give them place in the right, and
yield them in a manner the leading of the army, how is it they are
discontented with the honor that is done them, and do not look upon it
as an advantage to have to fight, not against their countrymen and
kindred, but barbarians, and such as were by nature their enemies?
After this, the Athenians very readily changed places with the
Lacedaemonians, and there went words amongst them as they were
encouraging each other, that the enemy approached with no better arms
or stouter hearts than those who fought the battle of Marathon; but had
the same bows and arrows, and the same embroidered coats and gold, and
the same delicate bodies and effeminate minds within; "while we have
the same weapons and bodies, and our courage augmented by our
victories; and fight not like others in defense of our country only,
but for the trophies of Salamis and Marathon; that they may not be
looked upon as due to Miltiades or fortune, but to the people of
Athens." Thus, therefore, were they making haste to change the order of
their battle. But the Thebans, understanding it by some deserters,
forthwith acquainted Mardonius; and he, either for fear of the
Athenians, or a desire to engage the Lacedaemonians, marched over his
Persians to the other wing, and commanded the Greeks of his party to be
posted opposite to the Athenians. But this change was observed on the
other side, and Pausanias, wheeling about again, ranged himself on the
right, and Mardonius, also, as at first, took the left wing over
against the Lacedaemonians. So the day passed without action.
After this, the Greeks determined in council to remove their camp some
distance, to possess themselves of a place convenient for watering;
because the springs near them were polluted and destroyed by the
barbarian cavalry. But night being come, and the captains setting out
towards the place designed for their encamping, the soldiers were not
very ready to follow, and keep in a body, but, as soon as they had
quitted their first entrenchments, made towards the city of Plataea;
and there was much tumult and disorder as they dispersed to various
quarters and proceeded to pitch their tents. The Lacedaemonians,
against their will, had the fortune to be left by the rest. For
Amompharetus, a brave and daring man, who had long been burning with
desire of the fight, and resented their many lingerings and delays,
calling the removal of the camp a mere running away and flight,
protested he would not desert his post, but would there remain with his
company, and sustain the charge of Mardonius. And when Pausanias came
to him and told him he did these things by the common vote and
determination of the Greeks, Amompharetus taking up a great stone and
flinging it at Pausanias' feet, and "by this token," said he, "do I
give my suffrage for the battle, nor have I any concern with the
cowardly consultations and decrees of other men." Pausanias, not
knowing what to do in the present juncture, sent to the Athenians, who
were drawing off, to stay to accompany him; and so he himself set off
with the rest of the army for Plataea, hoping thus to make Amompharetus
move.
Meantime, day came upon them; and Mardonius (for he was not ignorant of
their deserting their camp) having his army in array, fell upon the
Lacedaemonians with great shouting and noise of barbarous people, as if
they were not about to join battle, but crush the Greeks in their
flight. Which within a very little came to pass. For Pausanias,
perceiving what was done, made a halt, and commanded every one to put
themselves in order for the battle; but either through his anger with
Amompharetus, or the disturbance he was in by reason of the sudden
approach of the enemy, he forgot to give the signal to the Greeks in
general. Whence it was, that they did not come in immediately, or in a
body, to their assistance, but by small companies and straggling, when
the fight was already begun. Pausanias, offering sacrifice, could not
procure favorable omens, and so commanded the Lacedaemonians, setting
down their shields at their feet to abide quietly and attend his
directions, making no resistance to any of their enemies. And, he
sacrificing again a second time, the horse charged, and some of the
Lacedaemonians were wounded. At this time, also, Callicrates, who, we
are told, was the most comely man in the army, being shot with an arrow
and upon the point of expiring, said, that he lamented not his death
(for he came from home to lay down his life in the defense of Greece)
but that he died without action. The case was indeed hard, and the
forbearance of the men wonderful; for they let the enemy charge without
repelling them; and, expecting their proper opportunity from the gods
and their general, suffered themselves to be wounded and slain in their
ranks. And some say, that while Pausanias was at sacrifice and prayers,
some space out of the battle-array, certain Lydians, falling suddenly
upon him, plundered and scattered the sacrifice: and that Pausanias and
his company, having no arms, beat them with staves and whips; and that
in imitation of this attack, the whipping the boys about the altar, and
after it the Lydian procession, are to this day practiced in Sparta.
Pausanias, therefore, being troubled at these things, while the priest
went on offering one sacrifice after another, turns himself towards the
temple with tears in his eyes, and, lifting up his hands to heaven,
besought Juno of Cithaeron, and the other tutelar gods of the
Plataeans, if it were not in the fates for the Greeks to obtain the
victory, that they might not perish, without performing some remarkable
thing, and by their actions demonstrating to their enemies, that they
waged war with men of courage, and soldiers. While Pausanias was thus
in the act of supplication, the sacrifices appeared propitious, and the
soothsayers foretold victory. The word being given, the Lacedaemonian
battalion of foot seemed, on the sudden, like some one fierce animal,
setting up his bristles, and betaking himself to the combat; and the
barbarians perceived that they encountered with men who would fight it
to the death. Therefore, holding their wicker-shields before them, they
shot their arrows amongst the Lacedaemonians. But they, keeping
together in the order of a phalanx, and falling upon the enemies,
forced their shields out of their hands, and, striking with their pikes
at the breasts and faces of the Persians, overthrew many of them; who,
however, fell not either unrevenged or without courage. For taking hold
of the spears with their bare hands, they broke many of them, and
betook themselves not without effect to the sword; and making use of
their falchions and scimitars, and wresting the Lacedaemonians' shields
from them, and grappling with them, it was a long time that they made
resistance.
Meanwhile, for some time, the Athenians stood still, waiting for the
Lacedaemonians to come up. But when they heard much noise as of men
engaged in fight, and a messenger, they say, came from Pausanias, to
advertise them of what was going on, they soon hasted to their
assistance. And as they passed through the plain to the place where the
noise was, the Greeks, who took part with the enemy, came upon them.
Aristides, as soon as he saw them, going a considerable space before
the rest, cried out to them, conjuring them by the guardian gods of
Greece to forbear the fight, and be no impediment or stop to those, who
were going to succor the defenders of Greece. But when he perceived
they gave no attention to him, and had prepared themselves for the
battle, then turning from the present relief of the Lacedaemonians, he
engaged them, being five thousand in number. But the greatest part soon
gave way and retreated, as the barbarians also were put to flight. The
sharpest conflict is said to have been against the Thebans, the
chiefest and most powerful persons among them at that time siding
zealously with the Medes, and leading the multitude not according to
their own inclinations, but as being subjects of an oligarchy.
The battle being thus divided, the Lacedaemonians first beat off the
Persians; and a Spartan, named Arimnestus, slew Mardonius by a blow on
the head with a stone, as the oracle in the temple of Amphiaraus had
foretold to him. For Mardonius sent a Lydian thither, and another
person, a Carian, to the cave of Trophonius. This latter, the priest of
the oracle answered in his own language. But the Lydian sleeping in the
temple of Amphiaraus, it seemed to him that a minister of the divinity
stood before him and commanded him to be gone; and on his refusing to
do it, flung a great stone at his head, so that he thought himself
slain with the blow. Such is the story. -- They drove the fliers within
their walls of wood; and, a little time after, the Athenians put the
Thebans to flight, killing three hundred of the chiefest and of
greatest note among them in the actual fight itself. For when they
began to fly, news came that the army of the barbarians was besieged
within their palisade: and so giving the Greeks opportunity to save
themselves, they marched to assist at the fortifications; and coming in
to the Lacedaemonians, who were altogether unhandy and inexperienced in
storming, they took the camp with great slaughter of the enemy. For of
three hundred thousand, forty thousand only are said to have escaped
with Artabazus; while on the Greeks' side there perished in all
thirteen hundred and sixty: of which fifty-two were Athenians, all of
the tribe Aeantis, that fought, says Clidemus, with the greatest
courage of any; and for this reason the men of this tribe used to offer
sacrifice for the victory, as enjoined by the oracle, to the nymphs
Sphragitides at the expense of the public: ninety-one were
Lacedaemonians and sixteen Tegeatans. It is strange, therefore, upon
what grounds Herodotus can say, that they only, and none other,
encountered the enemy; for the number of the slain and their monuments
testify that the victory was obtained by all in general; and if the
rest had been standing still, while the inhabitants of three cities
only had been engaged in the fight, they would not have set on the
altar the inscription: --
The Greeks, when by their courage and their might,
They had repelled the Persian in the fight,
The common altar of freed Greece to be,
Reared this to Jupiter who guards the free.
They fought this battle on the fourth day of the month Boedromion,
according to the Athenians, but according to the Boeotians, on the
twenty-seventh of Panemus; -- on which day there is still a convention
of the Greeks at Plataea, and the Plataeans still offer sacrifice for
the victory to Jupiter of freedom. As for the difference of days, it is
not to be wondered at, since even at the present time, when there is a
far more accurate knowledge of astronomy, some begin the month at one
time, and some at another.
After this, the Athenians not yielding the honor of the day to the
Lacedaemonians, nor consenting they should erect a trophy, things were
not far from being ruined by dissension amongst the armed Greeks; had
not Aristides, by much soothing and counseling the commanders,
especially Leocrates and Myronides, pacified and persuaded them to
leave the thing to the decision of the Greeks. And on their proceeding
to discuss the matter, Theogiton, the Megarian, declared the honor of
the victory was to be given some other city, if they would prevent a
civil war; after him Cleocritus of Corinth rising up, made people think
he would ask the palm for the Corinthians, (for next to Sparta and
Athens, Corinth was in greatest estimation); but he delivered his
opinion, to the general admiration, in favor of the Plataeans; and
counseled to take away all contention by giving them the reward and
glory of the victory, whose being honored could be distasteful to
neither party. This being said, first Aristides gave consent in the
name of the Athenians, and Pausanias, then, for the Lacedaemonians. So,
being reconciled, they set apart eighty talents for the Plataeans, with
which they built the temple and dedicated the image to Minerva, and
adorned the temple with pictures, which even to this very day retain
their luster. But the Lacedaemonians and Athenians each erected a
trophy apart by themselves. On their consulting the oracle about
offering sacrifice, Apollo answered that they should dedicate an altar
to Jupiter of freedom, but should not sacrifice till they had
extinguished the fires throughout the country, as having been defiled
by the barbarians, and had kindled unpolluted fire at the common altar
at Delphi. The magistrates of Greece, therefore, went forthwith and
compelled such as had fire to put it out; and Euchidas, a Plataean,
promising to fetch fire, with all possible speed, from the altar of the
god, went to Delphi, and having sprinkled and purified his body,
crowned himself with laurel; and taking the fire from the altar ran
back to Plataea, and got back there before sunset, performing in one
day a journey of a thousand furlongs; and saluting his fellow-citizens
and delivering them the fire, he immediately fell down, and in a short
time after expired. But the Plataeans, taking him up, interred him in
the temple of Diana Euclia, setting this inscription over him:
"Euchidas ran to Delphi and back again in one day." Most people believe
that Euclia is Diana, and call her by that name. But some say she was
the daughter of Hercules, by Myrto, the daughter of Menoetius, and
sister of Patroclus, and, dying a virgin, was worshipped by the
Boeotians and Locrians. Her altar and image are set up in all their
marketplaces, and those of both sexes that are about marrying,
sacrifice to her before the nuptials.
A general assembly of all the Greeks being called, Aristides proposed a
decree, that the deputies and religious representatives of the Greek
states should assemble annually at Plataea, and every fifth year
celebrate the Eleutheria, or games of freedom. And that there should be
a levy upon all Greece, for the war against the barbarians, of ten
thousand spearmen, one thousand horse, and a hundred sail of ships; but
the Plataeans to be exempt, and sacred to the service of the gods,
offering sacrifice for the welfare of Greece. These things begin
ratified, the Plataeans undertook the performance of annual sacrifice
to such as were slain and buried in that place; which they still
perform in the following manner. On the sixteenth day of Maemacterion
(which with the Boeotians is Alalcomenus) they make their procession,
which, beginning by break of day, is led by a trumpeter sounding for
onset; then follow certain chariots loaded with myrrh and garlands; and
then a black bull; then come the young men of free birth carrying
libations of wine and milk in large two-handed vessels, and jars of oil
and precious ointments, none of servile condition being permitted to
have any hand in this ministration, because the men died in defense of
freedom; after all comes the chief magistrate of Plataea, (for whom it
is unlawful at other times either to touch iron, or wear any other
colored garment but white,) at that time appareled in a purple robe;
and, taking a water-pot out of the city record-office, he proceeds,
bearing a sword in his hand, through the middle of the town to the
sepulchres. Then drawing water out of a spring, he washes and anoints
the monument, and sacrificing the bull upon a pile of wood, and making
supplication to Jupiter and Mercury of the earth, invites those valiant
men who perished in the defense of Greece, to the banquet and the
libations of blood. After this, mixing a bowl of wine, and pouring out
for himself, he says, "I drink to those who lost their lives for the
liberty of Greece." These solemnities the Plataeans observe to this day.
Aristides perceived that the Athenians, after their return into the
city, were eager for a democracy; and deeming the people to deserve
consideration on account of their valiant behavior, as also that it was
a matter of difficulty, they being well armed, powerful, and full of
spirit with their victories, to oppose them by force, he brought
forward a decree, that every one might share in the government, and the
archons be chosen out of the whole body of the Athenians. And on
Themistocles telling the people in assembly that he had some advice for
them, which could not be given in public, but was most important for
the advantage and security of the city, they appointed Aristides alone
to hear and consider it with him. And on his acquainting Aristides that
his intent was to set fire to the arsenal of the Greeks, for by that
means should the Athenians become supreme masters of all Greece,
Aristides, returning to the assembly, told them, that nothing was more
advantageous than what Themistocles designed, and nothing more unjust.
The Athenians, hearing this, gave Themistocles order to desist; such
was the love of justice felt by the people, and such the credit and
confidence they reposed in Aristides.
Being sent in joint commission with Cimon to the war, he took notice
that Pausanias and the other Spartan captains made themselves offensive
by imperiousness and harshness to the confederates; and by being
himself gentle and considerate with them and by the courtesy and
disinterested temper which Cimon, after his example, manifested in the
expeditions, he stole away the chief command from the Lacedaemonians,
neither by weapons, ships, or horses, but by equity and wise policy.
For the Athenians being endeared to the Greeks by the justice of
Aristides and by Cimon's moderation, the tyranny and selfishness of
Pausanias rendered them yet more desirable. He on all occasions treated
the commanders of the confederates haughtily and roughly; and the
common soldiers he punished with stripes, or standing under the iron
anchor for a whole day together; neither was it permitted for any to
provide straw for themselves to lie on, or forage for their horses, or
to come near the springs to water before the Spartans were furnished,
but servants with whips drove away such as approached. And when
Aristides once was about to complain and expostulate with Pausanias, he
told him, with an angry look, that he was not at leisure, and gave no
attention to him. The consequence was that the sea captains and
generals of the Greeks, in particular, the Chians, Samians, and
Lesbians, came to Aristides and requested him to be their general, and
to receive the confederates into his command, who had long desired to
relinquish the Spartans and come over to the Athenians. But he
answered, that he saw both equity and necessity in what they said, but
their fidelity required the test of some action, the commission of
which would make it impossible for the multitude to change their minds
again. Upon which Uliades, the Samian, and Antagoras of Chios,
conspiring together, ran in near Byzantium on Pausanias's galley,
getting her between them as she was sailing before the rest. But when
Pausanias, beholding them, rose up and furiously threatened soon to
make them know that they had been endangering not his galley, but their
own countries, they bid him go his way, and thank Fortune that fought
for him at Plataea; for hitherto, in reverence to that, the Greeks had
forborne from indicting on him the punishment he deserved. In fine,
they all went off and joined the Athenians. And here the magnanimity of
the Lacedaemonians was wonderful. For when they perceived that their
generals were becoming corrupted by the greatness of their authority,
they voluntarily laid down the chief command, and left off sending any
more of them to the wars, choosing rather to have citizens of
moderation and consistent in the observance of their customs, than to
possess the dominion of all Greece.
Even during the command of the Lacedaemonians, the Greeks paid a
certain contribution towards the maintenance of the war; and being
desirous to be rated city by city in their due proportion, they desired
Aristides of the Athenians, and gave him command, surveying the country
and revenue, to assess every one according to their ability and what
they were worth. But he, being so largely empowered, Greece as it were
submitting all her affairs to his sole management, went out poor, and
returned poorer; laying the tax not only without corruption and
injustice, but to the satisfaction and convenience of all. For as the
ancients celebrated the age of Saturn, so did the confederates of
Athens Aristides's taxation, terming it the happy time of Greece; and
that more especially, as the sum was in a short time doubled, and
afterwards trebled. For the assessment which Aristides made, was four
hundred and sixty talents. But to this Pericles added very near one
third part more; for Thucydides says, that in the beginning of the
Peloponnesian war, the Athenians had coming in from their confederates
six hundred talents. But after Pericles's death, the demagogues,
increasing by little and little, raised it to the sum of thirteen
hundred talents; not so much through the war's being so expensive and
chargeable either by its length or ill success, as by their alluring
the people to spend upon largesses and play-house allowances, and in
erecting statues and temples. Aristides, therefore, having acquired a
wonderful and great reputation by this levy of the tribute,
Themistocles is said to have derided him, as if this had been not the
commendation of a man, but a money-bag; a retaliation, though not in
the same kind, for some free words which Aristides had used. For he,
when Themistocles once was saying that he thought the highest virtue of
a general was to understand and foreknow the measures the enemy would
take, replied, "This, indeed, Themistocles, is simply necessary, but
the excellent thing in a general is to keep his hands from taking
money."
Aristides, moreover, made all the people of Greece swear to keep the
league, and himself took the oath in the name of the Athenians,
flinging wedges of red hot iron into the sea, after curses against such
as should make breach of their vow. But afterwards, it would seem, when
things were in such a state as constrained them to govern with a
stronger hand, he bade the Athenians to throw the perjury upon him, and
manage affairs as convenience required. And, in general, Theophrastus
tells us, that Aristides was, in his own private affairs, and those of
his fellow-citizens, rigorously just, but that in public matters he
acted often in accordance with his country's policy, which demanded,
sometimes, not a little injustice. It is reported of him that he said
in a debate, upon the motion of the Samians for removing the treasure
from Delos to Athens, contrary to the league, that the thing indeed was
not just, but was expedient.
In fine, having established the dominion of his city over so many
people, he himself remained indigent; and always delighted as much in
the glory of being poor, as in that of his trophies; as is evident from
the following story. Callias, the torchbearer, was related to him: and
was prosecuted by his enemies in a capital cause, in which, after they
had slightly argued the matters on which they indicted him, they
proceeded, beside the point, to address the judges: "You know," said
they, "Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, who is the admiration of all
Greece. In what a condition do you think his family is in at his house,
when you see him appear in public in such a threadbare cloak? Is it not
probable that one who, out of doors, goes thus exposed to the cold,
must want food and other necessaries at home? Callias, the wealthiest
of the Athenians, does nothing to relieve either him or his wife and
children in their poverty, though he is his own cousin, and has made
use of him in many cases, and often reaped advantage by his interest
with you." But Callias, perceiving the judges were moved more
particularly by this, and were exasperated against him, called in
Aristides, requiring him to testify that when he frequently offered him
divers presents, and entreated him to accept them, he had refused,
answering, that it became him better to be proud of his poverty than
Callias of his wealth: since there are many to be seen that make a
good, or a bad use of riches, but it is difficult, comparatively, to
meet with one who supports poverty in a noble spirit; those only should
be ashamed of it who incurred it against their wills. On Aristides
deposing these facts in favor of Callias, there was none who heard
them, that went not away desirous rather to be poor like Aristides,
than rich as Callias. Thus Aeschines, the scholar of Socrates, writes.
But Plato declares, that of all the great and renowned men in the city
of Athens, he was the only one worthy of consideration; for
Themistocles, Cimon, and Pericles filled the city with porticoes,
treasure, and many other vain things, but Aristides guided his public
life by the rule of justice. He showed his moderation very plainly in
his conduct towards Themistocles himself. For though Themistocles had
been his adversary in all his undertakings, and was the cause of his
banishment, yet when he afforded a similar opportunity of revenge,
being accused to the city, Aristides bore him no malice; but while
Alcmaeon, Cimon, and many others, were prosecuting and impeaching him,
Aristides alone, neither did, nor said any ill against him, and no more
triumphed over his enemy in his adversity, than he had envied him his
prosperity.
Some say Aristides died in Pontus, during a voyage upon the affairs of
the public. Others that he died of old age at Athens, being in great
honor and veneration amongst his fellow-citizens. But Craterus, the
Macedonian, relates his death as follows. After the banishment of
Themistocles, he says, the people growing insolent, there sprung up a
number of false and frivolous accusers, impeaching the best and most
influential men and exposing them to the envy of the multitude, whom
their good fortune and power had filled with self-conceit. Amongst
these, Aristides was condemned of bribery, upon the accusation of
Diophantus of Amphitrope, for taking money from the Ionians when he was
collector of the tribute; and being unable to pay the fine, which was
fifty minae, sailed to Ionia, and died there. But of this Craterus
brings no written proof, neither the sentence of his condemnation, nor
the decree of the people; though in general it is tolerably usual with
him to set down such things and to cite his authors. Almost all others
who have spoken of the misdeeds of the people towards their generals,
collect them all together, and tell us of the banishment of
Themistocles, Miltiades's bonds, Pericles's fine, and the death of
Paches in the judgment hall, who, upon receiving sentence, killed
himself on the hustings, with many things of the like nature. They add
the banishment of Aristides; but of this his condemnation, they make no
mention.
Moreover, his monument is to be seen at Phalerum, which they say was
built him by the city, he not having left enough even to defray funeral
charges. And it is stated, that his two daughters were publicly married
out of the prytaneum, or state-house, by the city, which decreed each
of them three thousand drachmas for her portion; and that upon his son
Lysimachus, the people bestowed a hundred minas of money, and as many
acres of planted land, and ordered him besides, upon the motion of
Alcibiades, four drachmas a day. Furthermore, Lysimachus leaving a
daughter, named Polycrite, as Callisthenes says, the people voted her,
also, the same allowance for food with those that obtained the victory
in the Olympic Games. But Demetrius the Phalerian, Hieronymus the
Rhodian, Aristoxenus the musician, and Aristotle, (if the Treatise of
Nobility is to be reckoned among the genuine pieces of Aristotle,) say
that Myrto, Aristides's granddaughter, lived with Socrates the
philosopher, who indeed had another wife, but took her into his house,
being a widow, by reason of her indigence, and want of the necessaries
of life. But Panaetius sufficiently confutes this in his books
concerning Socrates. Demetrius the Phalerian, in his Socrates, says, he
knew one Lysimachus, son to the daughter of Aristides, extremely poor,
who used to sit near what is called the Iaccheum, and sustained himself
by a table for interpreting dreams; and that, upon his proposal and
representations, a decree was passed by the people, to give the mother
and aunt of this man half a drachma a day. The same Demetrius, when he
was legislating himself, decreed each of these women a drachma per
diem. And it is not to be wondered at, that the people of Athens should
take such care of people living in the city, since hearing the
granddaughter of Aristogiton was in a low condition in the isle of
Lemnos, and so poor nobody would marry her they brought her back to
Athens, and, marrying her to a man of good birth, gave a farm at
Potamus as her marriage-portion; and of similar humanity and bounty the
city of Athens, even in our age, has given numerous proofs, and is
justly admired and respected in consequence.
MARCUS CATO
Marcus Cato, we are told, was born at Tusculum, though (till he betook
himself to civil and military affairs) he lived and was bred up in the
country of the Sabines, where his father's estate lay. His ancestors
seeming almost entirely unknown, he himself praises his father Marcus,
as a worthy man and a brave soldier, and Cato, his great grandfather
too, as one who had often obtained military prizes, and who, having
lost five horses under him, received, on the account of his valor, the
worth of them out of the public exchequer. Now it being the custom
among the Romans to call those who, having no repute by birth, made
themselves eminent by their own exertions, new men or upstarts, they
called even Cato himself so, and so he confessed himself to be as to
any public distinction or employment, but yet asserted that in the
exploits and virtues of his ancestors he was very ancient. His third
name originally was not Cato, but Priscus, though afterwards he had the
surname of Cato, by reason of his abilities; for the Romans call a
skillful or experienced man, Catus. He was of a ruddy complexion, and
gray-eyed; as the writer, who, with no good-will, made the following
epigram upon him, lets us see:--
Porcius, who snarls at all in every place,
With his gray eyes, and with his fiery face,
Even after death will scarce admitted be
Into the infernal realms by Hecate.
He gained, in early life, a good habit of body by working with his own
hands, and living temperately, and serving in war; and seemed to have
an equal proportion troth of health and strength. And he exerted and
practiced his eloquence through all the neighborhood and little
villages; thinking it as requisite as a second body, and an all but
necessary organ to one who looks forward to something above a mere
humble and inactive life. He would never refuse to be counsel for those
who needed him, and was, indeed, early reckoned a good lawyer, and, ere
long, a capable orator.
Hence his solidity and depth of character showed itself gradually, more
and more to those with whom he was concerned, and claimed, as it were,
employment in great affairs, and places of public command. Nor did he
merely abstain from taking fees for his counsel and pleading, but did
not even seem to put any high price on the honor which proceeded from
such kind of combats, seeming much more desirous to signalize himself
in the camp and in real fights; and while yet but a youth, had his
breast covered with scars he had received from the enemy; being (as he
himself says) but seventeen years old, when he made his first campaign;
in the time when Hannibal, in the height of his success, was burning
and pillaging all Italy. In engagements he would strike boldly, without
flinching, stand firm to his ground, fix a bold countenance upon his
enemies, and with a harsh threatening voice accost them, justly
thinking himself and telling others, that such a rugged kind of
behavior sometimes terrifies the enemy more than the sword itself. In
his marches, he bore his own arms on foot, whilst one servant only
followed, to carry the provisions for his table, with whom he is said
never to have been angry or hasty, whilst he made ready his dinner or
supper, but would, for the most part, when he was free from military
duty, assist and help him himself to dress it. When he was with the
army, he used to drink only water; unless, perhaps, when extremely
thirsty, he might mingle it with a little vinegar; or if he found his
strength fail him, take a little wine.
The little country house of Manius Curius, who had been thrice carried
in triumph, happened to be near his farm; so that often going thither,
and contemplating the small compass of the place, and plainness of the
dwelling, he formed an idea of the mind of the person, who, being one
of the greatest of the Romans, and having subdued the most warlike
nations, nay, had driven Pyrrhus out of Italy, now, after three
triumphs, was contented to dig in so small a piece of ground, and live
in such a cottage. Here it was that the ambassadors of the Samnites,
finding him boiling turnips in the chimney corner, offered him a
present of gold; but he sent them away with this saying; that he, who
was content with such a supper, had no need of gold; and that he
thought it more honorable to conquer those who possessed the gold, than
to possess the gold itself. Cato, after reflecting upon these things,
used to return, and reviewing his own farm, his servants, and
housekeeping, increase his labor, and retrench all superfluous expenses.
When Fabius Maximus took Tarentum, Cato, being then but a youth, was a
soldier under him; and being lodged with one Nearchus, a Pythagorean,
desired to understand some of his doctrine, and hearing from him the
language, which Plato also uses, -- that pleasure is evil's chief bait;
the body the principal calamity of the soul; and that those thoughts
which most separate and take it off from the affections of the body,
most enfranchise and purify it; he fell in love the more with frugality
and temperance. With this exception, he is said not to have studied
Greek until when he was pretty old; and rhetoric, to have then profited
a little by Thucydides, but more by Demosthenes: his writings, however,
are considerably embellished with Greek sayings and stories; nay, many
of these, translated word for word, are placed with his own apothegms
and sentences.
There was a man of the highest rank, and very influential among the
Romans, called Valerius Flaccus, who was singularly skillful in
discerning excellence yet in the bud, and, also, much disposed to
nourish and advance it. He, it seems, had lands bordering upon Cato's;
nor could he but admire, when he understood from his servants the
manner of his living, how he labored with his own hands, went on foot
betimes in the morning to the courts to assist those who wanted his
counsel; how, returning home again, when it was winter, he would throw
a loose frock over his shoulders, and in the summer time would work
without anything on among his domestics, sit down with them, eat of the
same bread, and drink of the same wine. When they spoke, also, of other
good qualities, his fair dealing and moderation, mentioning also some
of his wise sayings, he ordered, that he should be invited to supper;
and thus becoming personally assured of his fine temper and his
superior character which, like a plant, seemed only to require culture
and a better situation, he urged and persuaded him to apply himself to
state affairs at Rome. Thither, therefore, he went, and by his pleading
soon gained many friends and admirers; but, Valerius chiefly assisting
his promotion, he first of all got appointed tribune in the army, and
afterwards was made quaestor, or treasurer. And now becoming eminent
and noted, he passed, with Valerius himself, through the greatest
commands, being first his colleague as consul, and then censor. But
among all the ancient senators, he most attached himself to Fabius
Maximus; not so much for the honor of his person, and greatness of his
power, as that he might have before him his habit and manner of life,
as the best examples to follow: and so he did not hesitate to oppose
Scipio the Great, who, being then but a young man, seemed to set
himself against the power of Fabius, and to be envied by him. For being
sent together with him as treasurer, when he saw him, according to his
natural custom, make great expenses, and distribute among the soldiers
without sparing, he freely told him that the expense in itself was not
the greatest thing to be considered, but that he was corrupting the
ancient frugality of the soldiers, by giving them the means to abandon
themselves to unnecessary pleasures and luxuries. Scipio answered, that
he had no need for so accurate a treasurer, (bearing on as he was, so
to say, full sail to the war,) and that he owed the people an account
of his actions, and not of the money he spent. Hereupon Cato returned
from Sicily, and, together with Fabius, made loud complaints in the
open senate of Scipio's lavishing unspeakable sums, and childishly
loitering away his time in wrestling matches and comedies, as if he
were not to make war, but holiday; and thus succeeded in getting some
of the tribunes of the people sent to call him back to Rome, in case
the accusations should prove true. But Scipio demonstrating, as it
were, to them, by his preparations, the coming victory, and, being
found merely to be living pleasantly with his friends, when there was
nothing else to do, but in no respect because of that easiness and
liberality at all the more negligent in things of consequence and
moment, without impediment, set sail towards the war.
Cato grew more and more powerful by his eloquence, so that he was
commonly called the Roman Demosthenes; but his manner of life was yet
more famous and talked of. For oratorical skill was, as an
accomplishment, commonly studied and sought after by all young men; but
he was very rare who would cultivate the old habits of bodily labor, or
prefer a light supper, and a breakfast which never saw the fire; or be
in love with poor clothes and a homely lodging, or could set his
ambition rather on doing without luxuries than on possessing them. For
now the state, unable to keep its purity by reason of its greatness,
and having so many affairs, and people from all parts under its
government, was fain to admit many mixed customs, and new examples of
living. With reason, therefore, everybody admired Cato, when they saw
others sink under labors, and grow effeminate by pleasures; and yet
beheld him unconquered by either, and that not only when he was young
and desirous of honor, but also when old and greyheaded, after a
consulship and triumph; like some famous victor in the games,
persevering in his exercise and maintaining his character to the very
last. He himself says, that he never wore a suit of clothes which cost
more than a hundred drachmas; and that, when he was general and consul,
he drank the same wine which his workmen did; and that the meat or fish
which was bought in the market for his dinner, did not cost above
thirty asses. All which was for the sake of the commonwealth, that so
his body might be the hardier for the war. Having a piece of
embroidered Babylonian tapestry left him, he sold it; because none of
his farm-houses were so much as plastered. Nor did he ever buy a slave
for above fifteen hundred drachmas; as he did not seek for effeminate
and handsome ones, but able, sturdy workmen, horse-keepers and
cow-herds: and these he thought ought to be sold again, when they grew
old, and no useless servants fed in a house. In short, he reckoned
nothing a good bargain, which was superfluous; but whatever it was,
though sold for a farthing, he would think it a great price, if you had
no need of it; and was for the purchase of lands for sowing and
feeding, rather than grounds for sweeping and watering.
Some imputed these things to petty avarice, but others approved of him,
as if he had only the more strictly denied himself for the rectifying
and amending of others. Yet certainly, in my judgment, it marks an
over-rigid temper, for a man to take the work out of his servants as
out of brute beasts, turning them off and selling them in their old
age, and thinking there ought to be no further commerce between man and
man, than whilst there arises some profit by it. We see that kindness
or humanity has a larger field than bare justice to exercise itself in;
law and justice we cannot, in the nature of things, employ on others
than men; but we may extend our goodness and charity even to irrational
creatures; and such acts flow from a gentle nature, as water from an
abundant spring. It is doubtless the part of a kind-natured man to keep
even worn-out horses and dogs, and not only take care of them when they
are foals and whelps, but also when they are grown old. The Athenians,
when they built their Hecatompedon, turned those mules loose to feed
freely, which they had observed to have done the hardest labor. One of
these (they say) came once of itself to offer its service, and ran
along with, nay, and went before, the teams which drew the wagons up to
the acropolis, as if it would incite and encourage them to draw more
stoutly; upon which there passed a vote, that the creature should be
kept at the public charge even till it died. The graves of Cimon's
horses, which thrice won the Olympian races, are yet to be seen close
by his own monument. Old Xanthippus, too, (amongst many others who
buried the dogs they had bred up,) entombed his which swam after his
galley to Salamis, when the people fled from Athens, on the top of a
cliff, which they call the dog's tomb to this day. Nor are we to use
living creatures like old shoes or dishes, and throw them away when
they are worn out or broken with service; but if it were for nothing
else, but by way of study and practice in humanity, a man ought always
to prehabituate himself in these things to be of a kind and sweet
disposition. As to myself, I would not so much as sell my draught ox on
the account of his age, much less for a small piece of money sell a
poor old man, and so chase him, as it were, from his own country, by
turning him not only out of the place where he has lived a long while,
but also out of the manner of living he has been accustomed to, and
that more especially when he would be as useless to the buyer as to the
seller. Yet Cato for all this glories that he left that very horse in
Spain, which he used in the wars when he was consul, only because he
would not put the public to the charge of his freight. Whether these
acts are to be ascribed to the greatness or pettiness of his spirit,
let every one argue as they please.
For his general temperance, however, and self-control, he really
deserves the highest admiration. For when he commanded the army, he
never took for himself, and those that belonged to him, above three
bushels of wheat for a month, and somewhat less than a bushel and a
half a day of barley for his baggage-cattle. And when he entered upon
the government of Sardinia, where his predecessors had been used to
require tents, bedding, and clothes upon the public account, and to
charge the state heavily with the cost of provisions and entertainments
for a great train of servants and friends, the difference he showed in
his economy was something incredible. There was nothing of any sort for
which he put the public to expense; he would walk without a carriage to
visit the cities, with one only of the common town officers, who
carried his dress, and a cup to offer libation with. Yet, though he
seemed thus easy and sparing to all who were under his power, he, on
the other hand, showed most inflexible severity and strictness, in what
related to public justice, and was rigorous, and precise in what
concerned the ordinances of the commonwealth; so that the Roman
government, never seemed more terrible, nor yet more mild, than under
his administration.
His very manner of speaking seemed to have such a kind of idea with it;
for it was courteous, and yet forcible; pleasant, yet overwhelming;
facetious, yet austere; sententious, and yet vehement: like Socrates,
in the description of Plato, who seemed outwardly to those about him to
be but a simple, talkative, blunt fellow; whilst at the bottom he was
full of such gravity and matter, as would even move tears, and touch
the very hearts of his auditors. And, therefore, I know not what has
persuaded some to say, that Cato's style was chiefly like that of
Lysias. However, let us leave those to judge of these things, who
profess most to distinguish between the several kinds of oratorical
style in Latin; whilst we write down some of his memorable sayings;
being of the opinion that a man's character appears much more by his
words, than, as some think it does, by his looks.
Being once desirous to dissuade the common people of Rome, from their
unseasonable and impetuous clamor for largesses and distributions of
corn, he began thus to harangue them: "It is a difficult task, O
citizens, to make speeches to the belly, which has no ears." Reproving,
also, their sumptuous habits, he said, it was hard to preserve a city,
where a fish sold for more than an ox. He had a saying, also, that the
Roman people were like sheep; for they, when single, do not obey, but
when altogether in a flock, they follow their leaders: "So you," said
he, "when you have got together in a body, let yourselves be guided by
those whom singly you would never think of being advised by."
Discoursing of the power of women: "Men," said he, "usually command
women; but we command all men, and the women command us." But this,
indeed, is borrowed from the sayings of Themistocles, who, when his son
was making many demands of him by means of the mother, said, "O woman,
the Athenians govern the Greeks; I govern the Athenians, but you govern
me, and your son governs you; so let him use his power sparingly,
since, simple as he is, he can do more than all the Greeks together."
Another saying of Cato's was, that the Roman people did not only fix
the value of such and such purple dyes, but also of such and such
habits of life: "For," said he, "as dyers most of all dye such colors
as they see to be most agreeable, so the young men learn, and zealously
affect what is most popular with you." He also exhorted them, that if
they were grown great by their virtue and temperance, they should not
change for the worse; but if intemperance and vice had made them great,
they should change for the better; for by that means they were grown
indeed quite great enough. He would say, likewise, of men who wanted to
be continually in office, that apparently they did not know their road;
since they could not do without beadles to guide them on it. He also
reproved the citizens for choosing still the same men as their
magistrates: "For you will seem," said he, "either not to esteem
government worth much, or to think few worthy to hold it." Speaking,
too, of a certain enemy of his, who lived a very base and discreditable
life: "It is considered," he said, "rather as a curse than a blessing
on him, that this fellow's mother prays that she may leave him behind
her." Pointing at one who had sold the land which his father had left
him, and which lay near the sea-side, he pretended to express his
wonder at his being stronger even than the sea itself; for what it
washed away with a great deal of labor, he with a great deal of ease
drank away. When the senate, with a great deal of splendor, received
king Eumenes on his visit to Rome, and the chief citizens strove who
should be most about him, Cato appeared to regard him with suspicion
and apprehension; and when one that stood by, too, took occasion to
say, that he was a very good prince, and a great lover of the Romans:
"It may be so," said Cato, "but by nature this same animal of a king,
is a kind of man-eater;" nor, indeed, were there ever kings who
deserved to be compared with Epaminondas, Pericles, Themistocles,
Manius Curius, or Hamilcar, surnamed Barcas. He used to say, too, that
his enemies envied him; because he had to get up every day before
light, and neglect his own business to follow that of the public. He
would also tell you, that he had rather be deprived of the reward for
doing well, than not to suffer the punishment for doing ill; and that
he could pardon all offenders but himself.
The Romans having sent three ambassadors to Bithynia, of whom one was
gouty, another had his skull trepanned, and the other seemed little
better than a fool; Cato, laughing, gave out, that the Romans had sent
an embassy, which had neither feet, head, nor heart. His interest being
entreated by Scipio, on account of Polybius, for the Achaean exiles,
and there happening to be a great discussion in the senate about it,
some being for, and some against their return; Cato, standing up, thus
delivered himself: "Here do we sit all day long, as if we had nothing
to do, but beat our brains whether these old Greeks should be carried
to their graves by the bearers here or by those in Achaea." The senate
voting their return, it seems that a few days after Polybius's friends
further wished that it should be moved in the senate, that the said
banished persons should receive again the honors which they first had
in Achaea; and, to this purpose, they sounded Cato for his opinion; but
he, smiling, answered, that Polybius, Ulysses-like, having escaped out
of the Cyclops' den, wanted, it would seem, to go back again because he
had left his cap and belt behind him. He used to assert, also, that
wise men profited more by fools, than fools by wise men; for that wise
men avoided the faults of fools, but that fools would not imitate the
good examples of wise men. He would profess, too, that he was more
taken with young men that blushed, than with those who looked pale; and
that he never desired to have a soldier that moved his hands too much
in marching, and his feet too much in fighting; or snored louder than
he shouted. Ridiculing a fat overgrown man: "What use," said he, "can
the state turn a man's body to, when all between the throat and groin
is taken up by the belly?" When one who was much given to pleasures
desired his acquaintance, begging his pardon, he said, he could not
live with a man whose palate was of a quicker sense than his heart. He
would likewise say, that the soul of a lover lived in the body of
another: and that in his whole life he most repented of three things;
one was, that he had trusted a secret to a woman; another, that he went
by water when he might have gone by land; the third, that he had
remained one whole day without doing any business of moment. Applying
himself to an old man who was committing some vice: "Friend," said he,
"old age has of itself blemishes enough; do not you add to it the
deformity of vice." Speaking to a tribune, who was reputed a poisoner,
and was very violent for the bringing in of a bill, in order to make a
certain law: "Young man," cried he, "I know not which would be better,
to drink what you mix, or confirm what you would put up for a law."
Being reviled by a fellow who lived a profligate and wicked life: "A
contest," replied he, "is unequal between you and me; for you can hear
ill words easily, and can as easily give them; but it is unpleasant to
me to give such, and unusual to hear them." Such was his manner of
expressing himself in his memorable sayings.
Being chosen consul, with his friend and familiar Valerius Flaccus, the
government of that part of Spain which the Romans call the Hither
Spain, fell to his lot. Here, as he was engaged in reducing some of the
tribes by force, and bringing over others by good words, a large army
of barbarians fell upon him, so that there was danger of being
disgracefully forced out again. He therefore called upon his neighbors,
the Celtiberians, for help; and on their demanding two hundred talents
for their assistance, everybody else thought it intolerable, that ever
the Romans should promise barbarians a reward for their aid; but Cato
said, there was no discredit or harm in it; for if they overcame, they
would pay them out of the enemy's purse, and not out of their own; but
if they were overcome, there would be nobody left either to demand the
reward or to pay it. However, he won that battle completely, and after
that, all his other affairs succeeded splendidly. Polybius says, that
by his command the walls of all the cities, on this side the river
Baetis, were in one day's time demolished, and yet there were a great
many of them full of brave and warlike men. Cato himself says, that he
took more cities than he stayed days in Spain. Neither is this a mere
rhodomontade, if it be true, that the number was four hundred. And
though the soldiers themselves had got much in the fights, yet he
distributed a pound of silver to every man of them, saying, it was
better, that many of the Romans should return home with silver, rather
than a few with gold. For himself he affirms, that of all the things
that were taken, nothing came to him beyond what he ate and drank.
"Neither do I find fault," continued he, "with those that seek to
profit by these spoils, but I had rather compete in valor with the
best, than in wealth with the richest, or with the most covetous in
love of money." Nor did he merely keep himself clear from taking
anything, but even all those who more immediately belonged to him. He
had five servants with him in the army; one of whom called Paccus,
bought three boys, out of those who were taken captive; which Cato
coming to understand, the man rather than venture into his presence,
hanged himself. Cato sold the boys, and carried the price he got for
them into the public exchequer.
Scipio the Great, being his enemy, and desiring, whiles he was carrying
all things so successfully, to obstruct him, and take the affairs of
Spain into his own hands, succeeded in getting himself appointed his
successor in the government, and, making all possible haste, put a term
to Cato's authority. But he, taking with him a convoy of five cohorts
of foot, and five hundred horse to attend him home, overthrew by the
way the Lacetanians, and salting from them six hundred deserters,
caused them all to be beheaded; upon which Scipio seemed to be in
indignation, but Cato, in mock disparagement of himself, said, "Rome
would become great indeed, if the most honorable and great men would
not yield up the first place of valor to those who were more obscure,
and when they who were of the commonalty (as he himself was) would
contend in valor with those who were most eminent in birth and honor."
The senate having voted to change nothing of what had been established
by Cato, the government passed away under Scipio to no manner of
purpose, in idleness and doing nothing; and so diminished his credit
much more than Cato's. Nor did Cato, who now received a triumph, remit
after this and slacken the reins of virtue, as many do, who strive not
so much for virtue's sake, as for vainglory, and having attained the
highest honors, as the consulship and triumphs, pass the rest of their
life in pleasure and idleness, and quit all public affairs. But he,
like those who are just entered upon public life for the first time,
and thirst after gaining honor and glory in some new office, strained
himself, as if he were but just setting out; and offering still
publicly his service to his friends and citizens, would give up neither
his pleadings nor his soldiery.
He accompanied and assisted Tiberius Sempronius, as his lieutenant,
when he went into Thrace and to the Danube; and, in the quality of
tribune, went with Manius Acilius into Greece, against Antiochus the
Great, who, after Hannibal, more than anyone struck terror into the
Romans. For having reduced once more under a single command almost the
whole of Asia, all, namely, that Seleucus Nicator had possessed, and
having brought into obedience many warlike nations of the barbarians,
he longed to fall upon the Romans, as if they only were now worthy to
fight with him. So across he came with his forces, pretending, as a
specious cause of the war, that it was to free the Greeks, who had
indeed no need of it, they having been but newly delivered from the
power of king Philip and the Macedonians, and made independent, with
the free use of their own laws, by the goodness of the Romans
themselves; so that all Greece was in commotion and excitement, having
been corrupted by the hopes of royal aid which the popular leaders in
their cities put them into. Manius, therefore, sent ambassadors to the
different cities; and Titus Flamininus (as is written in the account of
him) suppressed and quieted most of the attempts of the innovators,
without any trouble. Cato brought over the Corinthians, those of Patrae
and of Aegium, and spent a good deal of time at Athens. There is also
an oration of his said to be extant, which he spoke in Greek to the
people; in which he expressed his admiration of the virtue of the
ancient Athenians, and signified that he came with a great deal of
pleasure to be a spectator of the beauty and greatness of their city.
But this is a fiction; for he spoke to the Athenians by an interpreter,
though he was able to have spoken himself; but he wished to observe the
usage of his own country, and laughed at those who admired nothing but
what was in Greek. Jesting upon Postumius Albinus, who had written a
historical work in Greek, and requested that allowances might be made
for his attempt, he said, that allowance indeed might be made, if he
had done it under the express compulsion of an Amphictyonic decree. The
Athenians, he says, admired the quickness and vehemence of his speech;
for an interpreter would be very long in repeating what he expressed
with a great deal of brevity; but on the whole he professed to believe,
that the words of the Greeks came only from their lips, whilst those of
the Romans came from their hearts.
Now Antiochus, having occupied with his army the narrow passages about
Thermopylae, and added palisades and walls to the natural
fortifications of the place, sat down there, thinking he had done
enough to divert the war; and the Romans, indeed, seemed wholly to
despair of forcing the passage; but Cato, calling to mind the compass
and circuit which the Persians had formerly made to come at this place,
went forth in the night, taking along with him part of the army. Whilst
they were climbing up, the guide, who was a prisoner, missed the way,
and wandering up and down by impracticable and precipitous paths,
filled the soldiers with fear and despondency. Cato, perceiving the
danger, commanded all the rest to halt, and stay where they were,
whilst he himself, taking along with him one Lucius Manlius, a most
expert man at climbing mountains, went forward with a great deal of
labor and danger, in the dark night, and without the least moonshine,
among the wild olive trees, and steep craggy rocks, there being nothing
but precipices and darkness before their eyes, till they struck into a
little pass which they thought might lead down into the enemy's camp.
There they put up marks upon some conspicuous peaks which surmount the
hill called Callidromon, and returning again, they led the army along
with them to the said marks, till they got into their little path
again, and there once made a halt; but when they began to go further,
the path deserted them at a precipice, where they were in another
strait and fear; nor did they perceive that they were all this while
near the enemy. And now the day began to give some light, when they
seemed to hear a noise, and presently after to see the Greek trenches
and the guard at the foot of the rock. Here, therefore, Cato halted his
forces, and commanded the troops from Firmum only, without the rest, to
stick by him, as he had always found them faithful and ready. And when
they came up and formed around him in close order, he thus spoke to
them. "I desire," he said, "to take one of the enemy alive, that so I
may understand what men these are who guard the passage; their number;
and with what discipline, order, and preparation they expect us; but
this feat," continued he, "must be an act of a great deal of quickness
and boldness, such as that of lions, when they dart upon some timorous
animal." Cato had no sooner thus expressed himself, but the Firmans
forthwith rushed down the mountain, just as they were, upon the guard,
and, falling unexpectedly upon them, affrighted and dispersed them all.
One armed man they took, and brought to Cato, who quickly learned from
him, that the rest of the forces lay in the narrow passage about the
king; that those who kept the tops of the rocks were six hundred choice
Aetolians. Cato, therefore, despising the smallness of their number and
carelessness, forthwith drawing his sword, fell upon them with a great
noise of trumpets and shouting. The enemy, perceiving them thus
tumbling, as it were, upon them from the precipices, flew to the main
body, and put all things into disorder there.
In the meantime, whilst Manius was forcing the works below, and pouring
the thickest of his forces into the narrow passages, Antiochus was hit
in the mouth with a stone, so that his teeth being beaten out by it, he
felt such excessive pain, that he was fain to turn away with his horse;
nor did any part of his army stand the shock of the Romans. Yet, though
there seemed no reasonable hope of flight, where all paths were so
difficult, and where there were deep marshes and steep rocks, which
looked as if they were ready to receive those who should stumble, the
fugitives, nevertheless, crowding and pressing together. In the narrow
passages, destroyed even one another in their terror of the swords and
blows of the enemy. Cato (as it plainly appears) was never oversparing
of his own praises, and seldom shunned boasting of any exploit; which
quality, indeed, he seems to have thought the natural accompaniment of
great actions; and with these particular exploits he was highly puffed
up; he says, that those who saw him that day pursuing and slaying the
enemies, were ready to assert, that Cato owed not so much to the
public, as the public did to Cato; nay, he adds, that Manius the
consul, coming hot from the fight, embraced him for a great while, when
both were all in a sweat; and then cried out with joy, that neither he
himself, no, nor all the people together, could make him a recompense
equal to his actions. After the fight he was sent to Rome, that he
himself might be the messenger of it; and so, with a favorable wind, he
sailed to Brundusium, and in one day got from thence to Tarentum; and
having traveled four days more, upon the fifth, counting from the time
of his landing, he arrived at Rome, and so brought the first news of
the victory himself; and filled the whole city with joy and sacrifices,
and the people with the belief, that they were able to conquer every
sea and every land.
These are pretty nearly all the eminent actions of Cato, relating to
military affairs: in civil policy, he was of opinion, that one chief
duty consisted in accusing and indicting criminals. He himself
prosecuted many, and he would also assist others who prosecuted them,
nay would even procure such, as he did the Petilii against Scipio; but
not being able to destroy him, by reason of the nobleness of his
family, and the real greatness of his mind, which enabled him to
trample all calumnies underfoot, Cato at last would meddle no more with
him; yet joining with the accusers against Scipio's brother Lucius, he
succeeded in obtaining a sentence against him, which condemned him to
the payment of a large sum of money to the state; and being insolvent,
and in danger of being thrown into jail, he was, by the interposition
of the tribunes of the people, with much ado dismissed. It is also said
of Cato, that when he met a certain youth, who had effected the
disgrace of one of his father's enemies, walking in the market-place,
he shook him by the hand, telling him, that this was what we ought to
sacrifice to our dead parents-- not lambs and goats, but the tears and
condemnations of their adversaries. But neither did he himself escape
with impunity in his management of affairs; for if he gave his enemies
but the least hold, he was still in danger, and exposed to be brought
to justice. He is reported to have escaped at least fifty indictments;
and one above the rest, which was the last, when he was eighty-six
years old, about which time he uttered the well-known saying, that it
was hard for him who had lived with one generation of men, to plead now
before another. Neither did he make this the last of his lawsuits; for,
four years after, when he was fourscore and ten, he accused Servilius
Galba: so that his life and actions extended, we may say, as Nestor's
did, over three ordinary ages of man. For, having had many contests, as
we have related, with Scipio the Great, about affairs of state, he
continued them down even to Scipio the younger, who was the adopted
grandson of the former, and the son of that Paulus, who overthrew
Perseus and the Macedonians.
Ten years after his consulship, Cato stood for the office of censor,
which was indeed the summit of all honor, and in a manner the highest
step in civil affairs; for besides all other power, it had also that of
an inquisition into everyone's life and manners. For the Romans thought
that no marriage, or rearing of children, nay, no feast or
drinking-bout ought to be permitted according to everyone's appetite or
fancy, without being examined and inquired into; being indeed of
opinion, that a man's character was much sooner perceived in things of
this sort, than in what is done publicly and in open day. They chose,
therefore, two persons, one out of the patricians, the other out of the
commons, who were to watch, correct, and punish, if any one ran too
much into voluptuousness, or transgressed the usual manner of life of
his country; and these they called Censors. They had power to take away
a horse, or expel out of the senate any one who lived intemperately and
out of order. It was also their business to take an estimate of what
everyone was worth, and to put down in registers everybody's birth and
quality; besides many other prerogatives. And therefore the chief
nobility opposed his pretensions to it. Jealousy prompted the
patricians, who thought that it would be a stain to everybody's
nobility, if men of no original honor should rise to the highest
dignity and power; while others, conscious of their own evil practices,
and of the violation of the laws and customs of their country, were
afraid of the austerity of the man; which, in an office of such great
power was likely to prove most uncompromising and severe. And so
consulting among themselves, they brought forward seven candidates in
opposition to him, who sedulously set themselves to court the people's
favor by fair promises, as though what they wished for was indulgent
and easy government. Cato, on the contrary, promising no such mildness,
but plainly threatening evil livers, from the very hustings openly
declared himself; and exclaiming, that the city needed a great and
thorough purgation, called upon the people, if they were wise, not to
choose the gentlest, but the roughest of physicians; such a one, he
said, he was, and Valerius Flaccus, one of the patricians, another;
together with him, he doubted not but he should do something worth the
while, and that, by cutting to pieces and burning like a hydra, all
luxury and voluptuousness. He added, too, that he saw all the rest
endeavoring after the office with ill intent, because they were afraid
of those who would exercise it justly, as they ought. And so truly
great and so worthy of great men to be its leaders was, it would seem,
the Roman people, that they did not fear the severity end grim
countenance of Cato, but rejecting those smooth promisers who were
ready to do all things to ingratiate themselves, they took him,
together with Flaccus; obeying his recommendations not as though he
were a candidate, but as if he had had the actual power of commanding
and governing already.
Cato named as chief of the senate, his friend and colleague Lucius
Valerius Flaccus, and expelled, among many others, Lucius Quintius, who
had been consul seven years before, and (which was greater honor to him
than the consulship) brother to that Titus Flamininus, who overthrew
king Philip. The reason he had for his expulsion, was this. Lucius, it
seems, took along with him in all his commands, a youth, whom he had
kept as his companion from the flower of his age, and to whom he gave
as much power and respect as to the chiefest of his friends and
relations.
Now it happened that Lucius being consular governor of one of the
provinces, the youth setting himself down by him, as he used to do,
among other flatteries with which he played upon him, when he wee in
his cups, told him he loved him so dearly that, "though there was a
show of gladiators to be seen at Rome, and I," he said, "had never
beheld one in my life; and though I, as it were, longed to see a man
killed, yet I made all possible haste to come to you." Upon this
Lucius, returning his fondness, replied, "Do not be melancholy on that
account; I can remedy that." Ordering therefore, forthwith, one of
those condemned to die to be brought to the feast, together with the
headsman and axe, he asked the youth if he wished to see him executed.
The boy answering that he did, Lucius commanded the executioner to cut
off his neck; and this several historians mention; and Cicero, indeed,
in his dialogue de Senectute, introduces Cato relating it himself. But
Livy says, that he that was killed was a Gaulish deserter, and that
Lucius did not execute him by the stroke of the executioner, but with
his own hand; and that it is so stated in Cato's speech.
Lucius being thus expelled out of the senate by Cato, his brother took
it very ill, and appealing to the people, desired that Cato should
declare his reasons; and when he began to relate this transaction of
the feast, Lucius endeavored to deny it; but Cato challenging him to a
formal investigation, he fell off and refused it, so that he was then
acknowledged to suffer deservedly. Afterwards, however, when there was
some show at the theater, he passed by the seats where those who had
been consuls used to be placed, and taking his seat a great way off,
excited the compassion of the common people, who presently with a great
noise made him go forward, and as much as they could, tried to set
right and salve over what had happened. Manilius, also, who, according
to the public expectation, would have been next consul, he threw out of
the senate, because, in the presence of his daughter, and in open day,
he had kissed his wife. He said, that as for himself, his wife never
came into his arms except when there was great thunder; so that it was
a jest with him, that it was a pleasure for him, when Jupiter thundered.
His treatment of Lucius, likewise, the brother of Scipio, and one who
had been honored with a triumph, occasioned some odium against Cato;
for he took his horse from him, and was thought to do it with a design
of putting an affront on Scipio Africanus, now dead. But he gave most
general annoyance, by retrenching people's luxury; for though (most of
the youth being thereby already corrupted) it seemed almost impossible
to take it away with an open hand and directly, yet going, as it were,
obliquely around, he caused all dress, carriages, women's ornaments,
household furniture, whose price exceeded one thousand five hundred
drachmas, to be rated at ten times as much as they were worth;
intending by thus making the assess-ments greater, to increase the
taxes paid upon them. He also ordained that upon every thousand asses
of property of this kind, three should be paid, so that people,
burdened with these extra charges, and seeing others of as good
estates, but more frugal and sparing, paying less into the public
exchequer, might be tired out of their prodigality. And thus, on the
one side, not only those were disgusted at Cato, who bore the taxes for
the sake of their luxury, but those, too, who on the other side laid by
their luxury for fear of the taxes. For people in general reckon, that
an order not to display their riches, is equivalent to the taking away
their riches; because riches are seen much more in superfluous, than in
necessary, things. Indeed, this was what excited the wonder of Ariston
the philosopher; that we account those who possess superfluous things
more happy than those who abound with what is necessary and useful. But
when one of his friends asked Scopas, the rich Thessalian, to give him
some article of no great utility, saying that it was not a thing that
he had any great need or use for himself, "In truth," replied he, "it
is just these useless and unnecessary things that make my wealth and
happiness." Thus the desire of riches does not proceed from a natural
passion within us, but arises rather from vulgar out-of-doors opinion
of other people.
Cato, notwithstanding, being little solicitous as to those who
exclaimed against him, increased his austerity. He caused the pipes,
through which some persons brought the public water into their own
houses and gardens, to be cut, and threw down all buildings which
jutted out into the common streets. He beat down also the price in
contracts for public works to the lowest, and raised it in contracts
for farming the taxes to the highest sum; by which proceedings he drew
a great deal of hatred on himself. Those who were of Titus Flamininus's
party canceled in the senate all the bargains and contracts made by him
for the repairing and carrying on of the sacred and public buildings,
as unadvantageous to the commonwealth. They incited also the boldest of
the tribunes of the people to accuse him, and to fine him two talents.
They likewise much opposed him in building the court or basilica, which
he caused to be erected at the common charge, just by the senate-house,
in the market-place, and called by his own name, the Porcian. However,
the people, it seems, liked his censorship wondrously well; for,
setting up a statue for him in the temple of the goddess of Health,
they put an inscription under it, not recording his commands in war or
his triumph, but to the effect, that this was Cato the Censor, who, by
his good discipline and wise and temperate ordinances, reclaimed the
Roman commonwealth when it was declining and sinking down into vice.
Before this honor was done to himself, he used to laugh at those who
loved such kind of things, saying, that they did not see that they were
taking pride in the workmanship of brass-founders and painters; whereas
the citizens bore about his best likeness in their breasts. And when
any seemed to wonder, that he should have never a statue, while many
ordinary persons had one; "I would," said he, "much rather be asked,
why I have not one, than why I have one." In short, he would not have
any honest citizen endure to be praised, except it might prove
advantageous to the commonwealth. Yet still he had passed the highest
commendation on himself; for he tells us that those who did anything
wrong, and were found fault with, used to say, it was not worthwhile to
blame them; for they were not Catos. He also adds, that they who
awkwardly mimicked some of his actions, were called left-handed Catos;
and that the senate in perilous times would cast their eyes on him, as
upon a pilot in a ship, and that often when he was not present they put
off affairs of greatest consequence. These things are indeed also
testified of him by others; for he had a great authority in the city,
alike for his life, his eloquence, and his age.
He was also a good father, an excellent husband to his wife, and an
extraordinary economist; and as he did not manage his affairs of this
kind carelessly, and as things of little moment, I think I ought to
record a little further whatever was commendable in him in these
points. He married a wife more noble than rich; being of opinion that
the rich and the high-born are equally haughty and proud; but that
those of noble blood, would be more ashamed of base things, and
consequently more obedient to their husbands in all that was fit and
right. A man who beat his wife or child, laid violent hands, he said,
on what was most sacred; and a good husband he reckoned worthy of more
praise than a great senator; and he admired the ancient Socrates for
nothing so much as for having lived a temperate and contented life with
a wife who was a scold, and children who were half-witted.
As soon as he had a son born, though he had never such urgent business
upon his hands, unless it were some public matter, he would be by when
his wife washed it, and dressed it in its swaddling clothes. For she
herself suckled it, nay, she often too gave her breast to her servants'
children, to produce, by sucking the same milk, a kind of natural love
in them to her son. When he began to come to years of discretion, Cato
himself would teach him to read, although he had a servant, a very good
grammarian, called Chilo, who taught many others; but he thought not
fit, as he himself said, to have his son reprimanded by a slave, or
pulled, it may be, by the ears when found tardy in his lesson: nor
would he have him owe to a servant the obligation of so great a thing
as his learning; he himself, therefore, (as we were saying,) taught him
his grammar, law, and his gymnastic exercises. Nor did he only show
him, too, how to throw a dart, to fight in armor, and to ride, but to
box also and to endure both heat and cold, and to swim over the most
rapid and rough rivers. He says, likewise, that he wrote histories, in
large characters, with his own hand, that so his son, without stirring
out of the house, might learn to know about his countrymen and
forefathers: nor did he less abstain from speaking anything obscene
before his son, than if it had been in the presence of the sacred
virgins, called vestals. Nor would he ever go into the bath with him;
which seems indeed to have been the common custom of the Romans.
Sons-in-law used to avoid bathing with fathers-in-law, disliking to see
one another naked: but having, in time, learned of the Greeks to strip
before men, they have since taught the Greeks to do it even with the
women themselves.
Thus, like an excellent work, Cato formed and fashioned his son to
virtue; nor had he any occasion to find fault with his readiness and
docility; but as he proved to be of too weak a constitution for
hardships, he did not insist on requiring of him any very austere way
of living. However, though delicate in health, he proved a stout man in
the field, and behaved himself valiantly when Paulus Aemilius fought
against Perseus; where when his sword was struck from him by a blow, or
rather slipped out of his hand by reason of its moistness, he so keenly
resented it, that he turned to some of his friends about him, and
taking them along with him again, fell upon the enemy; and having by a
long fight and much force cleared the place, at length found it among
great heaps of arms, and the dead bodies of friends as well as enemies
piled one upon another. Upon which Paulus, his general, much commended
the youth; and there is a letter of Cato's to his son, which highly
praises his honorable eagerness for the recovery of his sword.
Afterwards he married Tertia, Aemilius Paulus's daughter, and sister to
Scipio; nor was he admitted into this family less for his own worth
than his father's. So that Cato's care in his son's education came to a
very fitting result.
He purchased a great many slaves out of the captives taken in war, but
chiefly bought up the young ones, who were capable to be, as it were,
broken and taught like whelps and colts. None of these ever entered
another man's house, except sent either by Cato himself or his wife. If
any one of them were asked what Cato did, they answered merely, that
they did not know. When a servant was at home, he was obliged either to
do some work or sleep; for indeed Cato loved those most who used to lie
down often to sleep, accounting them more docile than those who were
wakeful, and more fit for anything when they were refreshed with a
little slumber. Being also of opinion, that the great cause of the
laziness and misbehavior of slaves was their running after their
pleasures, he fixed a certain price for them to pay for permission
amongst themselves, but would suffer no connections out of the house.
At first, when he was but a poor soldier, he would not be difficult in
anything which related to his eating, but looked upon it as a pitiful
thing to quarrel with a servant for the belly's sake; but afterwards,
when he grew richer, and made any feasts for his friends and colleagues
in office, as soon as supper was over he used to go with a leathern
thong and scourge those who had waited or dressed the meat carelessly.
He always contrived, too, that his servants should have some difference
one among another, always suspecting and fearing a good understanding
between them. Those who had committed anything worthy of death, he
punished, if they were found guilty by the verdict of their
fellow-servants. But being after all much given to the desire of gain,
he looked upon agriculture rather as a pleasure than profit; resolving,
therefore, to lay out his money in safe and solid things, he purchased
ponds, hot baths, grounds full of fuller's earth, remunerative lands,
pastures, and woods; from all which he drew large returns, nor could
Jupiter himself, he used to say, do him much damage. He was also given
to the form of usury, which is considered most odious, in traffic by
sea; and that thus: -- he desired that those whom he put out his money
to, should have many partners; and when the number of them and their
ships came to be fifty, he himself took one share through Quintio his
freedman, who therefore was to sail with the adventurers, and take a
part in all their proceedings; so that thus there was no danger of
losing his whole stock, but only a little part, and that with a
prospect of great profit. He likewise lent money to those of his slaves
who wished to borrow, with which they bought also other young ones,
whom, when they had taught and bred up at his charges, they would sell
again at the year's end; but some of them Cato would keep for himself,
giving just as much for them as another had offered. To incline his son
to be of this kind of temper, he used to tell him, that it was not like
a man, but rather like a widow woman, to lessen an estate. But the
strongest indication of Cato's avaricious humor was when he took the
boldness to affirm, that he was a most wonderful, nay, a godlike man,
who left more behind him than he had received.
He was now grown old, when Carneades the Academic, and Diogenes the
Stoic, came as deputies from Athens to Rome, praying for release from a
penalty of five hundred talents laid on the Athenians, in a suit, to
which they did not appear, in which the Oropians were plaintiffs, and
Sicyonians judges. All the most studious youth immediately waited on
these philosophers, and frequently, with admiration, heard them speak.
But the gracefulness of Carneades's oratory, whose ability was really
greatest, and his reputation equal to it, gathered large and favorable
audiences, and erelong filled, like a wind, all the city with the sound
of it. So that it soon began to be told, that a Greek, famous even to
admiration, winning and carrying all before him, had impressed so
strange a love upon the young men, that quitting all their pleasures
and pastimes, they ran mad, as it were, after philosophy; which indeed
much pleased the Romans in general; nor could they but with much
pleasure see the youth receive so welcomely the Greek literature, and
frequent the company of learned men. But Cato, on the other side,
seeing this passion for words flowing into the city, from the
beginning, took it ill, fearing lest the youth should be diverted that
way, and so should prefer the glory of speaking well before that of
arms, and doing well. And when the fame of the philosophers increased
in the city, and Caius Acilius, a person of distinction, at his own
request, became their interpreter to the senate at their first
audience, Cato resolved, under some specious presence, to have all
philosophers cleared out of the city; and, coming into the senate,
blamed the magistrates for letting these deputies stay so long a time
without being dispatched, though they were persons that could easily
persuade the people to what they pleased; that therefore in all haste
something should be determined about their petition, that so they might
go home again to their own schools, and declaim to the Greek children,
and leave the Roman youth, to be obedient, as hitherto, to their own
laws and governors.
Yet he did this not out of any anger, as some think, to Carneades; but
because he wholly despised philosophy, and out of a kind of pride,
scoffed at the Greek studies and literature; as, for example, he would
say, that Socrates was a prating seditious fellow, who did his best to
tyrannize over his country, to undermine the ancient customs, and to
entice and withdraw the citizens to opinions contrary to the laws.
Ridiculing the school of Isocrates, he would add, that his scholars
grew old men before they had done learning with him, as if they were to
use their art and plead causes in the court of Minos in the next world.
And to frighten his son from anything that was Greek, in a more
vehement tone than became one of his age, he pronounced, as it were,
with the voice of an oracle, that the Romans would certainly be
destroyed when they began once to be infected with Greek literature;
though time indeed has shown the vanity of this his prophecy; as, in
truth, the city of Rome has risen to its highest fortune, while
entertaining Grecian learning. Nor had he an aversion only against the
Greek philosophers, but the physicians also; for having, it seems,
heard how Hippocrates, when the king of Persia sent for him, with
offers of a fee of several talents, said, that he would never assist
barbarians who were enemies to the Greeks; he affirmed, that this was
now become a common oath taken by all physicians, and enjoined his son
to have a care and avoid them; for that he himself had written a little
book of prescriptions for curing those who were sick in his family; he
never enjoined fasting to anyone, but ordered them either vegetables,
or the meat of a duck, pigeon, or leveret; such kind of diet being of
light digestion, and fit for sick folks, only it made those who ate it
dream a little too much; and by the use of this kind of physic, he
said, he not only made himself and those about him well, but kept them
so.
However, for this his presumption, he seemed not to have escaped
unpunished; for he lost both his wife and his son; though he himself,
being of a strong robust constitution, held out longer; so that he
would often, even in his old days, address himself to women, and when
he was past a lover's age, married a young woman, upon the following
pretense. Having lost his own wife, he married his son to the daughter
of Paulus Aemilius, who was sister to Scipio; so that being now a
widower himself, he had a young girl who came privately to visit him;
but the house being very small, and a daughter-in-law also in it, this
practice was quickly discovered; for the young woman seeming once to
pass through it a little too boldly, the youth, his son, though he said
nothing, seemed to look somewhat indignantly upon her. The old man
perceiving and understanding that what he did was disliked, without
finding any fault, or saying a word, went away as his custom was, with
his usual companions to the market: and among the rest, he called aloud
to one Salonius, who had been a clerk under him, and asked him whether
he had married his daughter? He answered, no, nor would he, till he had
consulted him. Said Cato, "Then I have found out a fit son-in-law for
you, if he should not displease by reason of his age; for in all other
points there is no fault to be found in him; but he is indeed, as I
said, extremely old." However, Salonius desired him to undertake the
business, and to give the young girl to whom he pleased, she being a
humble servant of his, who stood in need of his care and patronage.
Upon this Cato, without any more ado, told him, he desired to have the
damsel himself. These words, as may well be imagined, at first
astonished the man, conceiving that Cato was as far off from marrying,
as he from a likelihood of being allied to the family of one who had
been consul, and had triumphed; but perceiving him in earnest, he
consented willingly; and, going onwards to the forum, they quickly
completed the bargain.
Whilst the marriage was in hand, Cato's son, taking some of his friends
along with him, went and asked his father if it were for any offense he
brought in a stepmother upon him? But Cato cried out, "Far from it, my
son, I have no fault to find with you nor anything of yours; only I
desire to have many children, and to leave the commonwealth more such
citizens as you are." Pisistratus, the tyrant of Athens, made, they
say, this answer to his sons, when they were grown men, when he married
his second wife, Timonassa of Argos, by whom he had, it is said, Iophon
and Thessalus. Cato had a son by this second wife, to whom from his
mother, he gave the surname of Salonius. In the mean time, his eldest
died in his praetorship; of whom Cato often makes mention in his books,
as having been a good man. He is said, however, to have borne the loss
moderately, and like a philosopher, and was nothing the more remiss in
attending to affairs of state; so that he did not, as Lucius Lucullus
and Metellus Pius did, grow languid in his old age, as though public
business were a duty once to be discharged, and then quitted; nor did
he, like Scipio Africanus, because envy had struck at his glory, turn
from the public, and change and pass away the rest of his life without
doing anything; but as one persuaded Dionysius, that the most honorable
tomb he could have, would be to die in the exercise of his dominion; so
Cato thought that old age to be the most honorable, which was busied in
public affairs; though he would, now and then, when he had leisure,
recreate himself with husbandry and writing.
And, indeed, he composed various books and histories; and in his youth,
he addicted himself to agriculture for profit's sake; for he used to
say, he had but two ways of getting -- agriculture and parsimony; and
now, in his old age, the first of these gave him both occupation and a
subject of study. He wrote one book on country matters, in which he
treated particularly even of making cakes, and preserving fruit; it
being his ambition to be curious and singular in all things. His
suppers, at his country-house, used also to be plentiful; he daily
invited his friends and neighbors about him, and passed the time
merrily with them; so that his company was not only agreeable to those
of the same age, but even to younger men; for he had had experience in
many things, and had been concerned in much, both by word and deed,
that was worth the hearing. He looked upon a good table, as the best
place for making friends; where the commendations of brave and good
citizens were usually introduced, and little said of base and unworthy
ones; as Cato would not give leave in his company to have anything,
either good or ill, said about them.
Some will have the overthrow of Carthage to have been one of his last
acts of state; when, indeed, Scipio the younger, did by his valor give
it the last blow, but the war, chiefly by the counsel and advice of
Cato, was undertaken on the following occasion. Cato was sent to the
Carthaginians and Masinissa, king of Numidia, who were at war with one
another, to know the cause of their difference. He, it seems, had been
a friend of the Romans from the beginning; and they, too, since they
were conquered by Scipio, were of the Roman confederacy, having been
shorn of their power by loss of territory, and a heavy tax. Finding
Carthage, not (as the Romans thought) low and in an ill condition, but
well manned, full of riches and all sorts of arms and ammunition, and
perceiving the Carthaginians carry it high, he conceived that it was
not a time for the Romans to adjust affairs between them and Masinissa;
but rather that they themselves would fall into danger, unless they
should find means to check this rapid new growth of Rome's ancient
irreconcilable enemy. Therefore, returning quickly to Rome, he
acquainted the senate, that the former defeats and blows given to the
Carthaginians, had not so much diminished their strength, as it had
abated their imprudence and folly; that they were not become weaker,
but more experienced in war, and did only skirmish with the Numidians,
to exercise themselves the better to cope with the Romans: that the
peace and league they had made was but a kind of suspension of war
which awaited a fairer opportunity to break out again.
Moreover, they say that, shaking his gown, he took occasion to let drop
some African figs before the senate. And on their admiring the size and
beauty of them, he presently added, that the place that bore them was
but three days' sail from Rome. Nay, he never after this gave his
opinion, but at the end he would be sure to come out with this
sentence, "Also, Carthage, methinks, ought utterly to be destroyed."
But Publius Scipio Nasica would always declare his opinion to the
contrary, in these words, "It seems requisite to me that Carthage
should still stand." For seeing his countrymen to be grown wanton and
insolent, and the people made, by their prosperity, obstinate and
disobedient to the senate, and drawing the whole city, whither they
would, after them, he would have had the fear of Carthage to serve as a
bit to hold in the contumacy of the multitude; and he looked upon the
Carthaginians as too weak to overcome the Romans, and too great to be
despised by them. On the other side, it seemed a perilous thing to
Cato, that a city which had been always great, and was now grown sober
and wise, by reason of its former calamities, should still lie, as it
were, in wait for the follies and dangerous excesses of the
overpowerful Roman people; so that he thought it the wisest course to
have all outward dangers removed, when they had so many inward ones
among themselves.
Thus Cato, they say, stirred up the third and last war against the
Carthaginians: but no sooner was the said war begun, than he died,
prophesying of the person that should put an end to it, who was then
only a young man; but, being tribune in the army, he in several fights
gave proof of his courage and conduct. The news of which being brought
to Cato's ears at Rome, he thus expressed himself: --
The only wise man of them all is he,
The others e'en as shadows flit and flee.
This prophecy Scipio soon confirmed by his actions.
Cato left no posterity, except one son by his second wife, who was
named, as we said, Cato Salonius; and a grandson by his eldest son, who
died. Cato Salonius died when he was praetor, but his son Marcus was
afterwards consul, and he was grandfather of Cato the philosopher, who
for virtue and renown was one of the most eminent personages of his
time.
COMPARISON OF ARISTIDES WITH MARCUS CATO.
Having mentioned the most memorable actions of these great men, if we
now compare the whole life of the one with that of the other, it will
not be easy to discern the difference between them, lost as it is
amongst such a number of circumstances in which they resemble each
other. If, however, we examine them in detail as we might some piece of
poetry, or some picture, we shall find this common to them both, that
they advanced themselves to great honor and dignity in the
commonwealth, by no other means than their own virtue and industry. But
it seems when Aristides appeared, Athens was not at its height of
grandeur and plenty, the chief magistrates and officers of his time
being men only of moderate and equal fortunes among themselves. The
estimate of the greatest estates then, was five hundred medimns; that
of the second, or knights, three hundred; of the third and last called
Zeugitae, two hundred. But Cato, out of a petty village from a country
life, leaped into the commonwealth, as it were into a vast ocean; at a
time when there were no such governors as the Curii, Fabricii, and
Hostilii. Poor laboring men were not then advanced from the plow and
spade to be governors and magistrates; but greatness of family, riches,
profuse gifts, distributions, and personal application were what the
city looked to; keeping a high hand, and, in a manner, insulting over
those that courted preferment. It was not as great a matter to have
Themistocles for an adversary, a person of mean extraction and small
fortune, (for he was not worth, it is said, more than four or five
talents when he first applied himself to public affairs,) as to contest
with a Scipio Africanus, a Servius Galba, and a Quintius Flamininus,
having no other aid but a tongue free to assert right.
Besides, Aristides at Marathon, and again at Plataea, was but one
commander out of ten; whereas Cato was chosen consul with a single
colleague, having many competitors, and with a single colleague, also,
was preferred before seven most noble and eminent pretenders to be
censor. But Aristides was never principal in any action; for Miltiades
carried the day at Marathon, at Salamis Themistocles, and at Plataea,
Herodotus tells us, Pausanias got the glory of that noble victory: and
men like Sophanes, and Aminias, Callimachus, and Cynaegyrus, behaved
themselves so well in all those engagements, as to contest it with
Aristides even for the second place. But Cato not only in his
consulship was esteemed the chief in courage and conduct in the Spanish
war, but even whilst he was only serving as tribune at Thermopylae,
under another's command, he gained the glory of the victory, for
having, as it were, opened a wide gate for the Romans to rush in upon
Antiochus, and for having brought the war on his back, whilst he only
minded what was before his face. For that victory, which was beyond
dispute all Cato's own work, cleared Asia out of Greece, and by that
means made way afterwards for Scipio into Asia. Both of them, indeed,
were always victorious in war; but at home Aristides stumbled, being
banished and oppressed by the faction of Themistocles; yet Cato,
notwithstanding he had almost all the chief and most powerful of Rome
for his adversaries, and wrestled with them even to his old age, kept
still his footing. Engaging also in many public suits, sometimes
plaintiff, sometimes defendant, he cast the most, and came off clear
with all; thanks to his eloquence, that bulwark and powerful instrument
to which more truly, than to chance or his fortune, he owed it, that he
sustained himself unhurt to the last. Antipater justly gives it as a
high commendation to Aristotle the philosopher, writing of him after
his death, that among his other virtues, he was endowed with a faculty
of persuading people which way he pleased.
Questionless, there is no perfecter endowment in man than political
virtue, and of this Economics is commonly esteemed not the least part;
for a city, which is a collection of private households, grows into a
stable commonwealth by the private means of prosperous citizens that
compose it. Lycurgus by prohibiting gold and silver in Sparta, and
making iron, spoiled by the fire, the only currency, did not by these
measures discharge them from minding their household affairs, but
cutting off luxury, the corruption and tumor of riches, he provided
there should be an abundant supply of all necessary and useful things
for all persons, as much as any other lawmaker ever did; being more
apprehensive of a poor, needy, and indigent member of a community, than
of the rich and haughty. And in this management of domestic concerns,
Cato was as great as in the government of public affairs; for he
increased his estate, and became a master to others in economy and
husbandry; upon which subjects he collected in his writings many useful
observations. On the contrary Aristides, by his poverty, made justice
odious, as if it were the pest and impoverisher of a family and
beneficial to all, rather than to those that were endowed with it. Yet
Hesiod urges us alike to just dealing and to care of our households,
and inveighs against idleness as the origin of injustice; and Homer
admirably says: --
Work was not dear, nor household cares to me,
Whose increase rears the thriving family;
But well-rigged ships were always my delight,
And wars, and darts, and arrows of the fight:
as if the same characters carelessly neglected their own estates, and
lived by injustice and rapine from others. For it is not as the
physicians say of oil, that outwardly applied, it is very wholesome,
but taken inwardly detrimental, that thus a just man provides carefully
for others, and is heedless of himself and his own affairs: but in this
Aristides's political virtues seem to be defective; since, according to
most authors, he took no care to leave his daughters a portion, or
himself enough to defray his funeral charges: whereas Cato's family
produced senators and generals to the fourth generation; his
grandchildren, and their children, came to the highest preferments. But
Aristides, who was the principal man of Greece, through extreme poverty
reduced some of his to get their living by juggler's tricks, others,
for want, to hold out their hands for public alms; leaving none means
to perform any noble action, or worthy his dignity.
Yet why should this needs follow? since poverty is dishonorable not in
itself, but when it is a proof of laziness, intemperance, luxury, and
carelessness; whereas in a person that is temperate, industrious, just,
and valiant, and who uses all his virtues for the public good, it shows
a great and lofty mind. For he has no time for great matters, who
concerns himself with petty ones; nor can he relieve many needs of
others, who himself has many needs of his own. What most of all enables
a man to serve the public is not wealth, but content and independence;
which, requiring no superfluity at home, distracts not the mind from
the common good. God alone is entirely exempt from all want: of human
virtues, that which needs least, is the most absolute and most divine.
For as a body bred to a good habit requires nothing exquisite either in
clothes or food, so a sound man and a sound household keep themselves
up with a small matter. Riches ought to be proportioned to the use we
have of them; for he that scrapes together a great deal, making use of
but little, is not independent; for if he wants them not, it is folly
in him to make provision for things which he does not desire; or if he
does desire them, and restrains his enjoyment out of sordidness, he is
miserable. I would fain know of Cato himself, if we seek riches that we
may enjoy them, why is he proud of having a great deal, and being
contented with little? But if it be noble, as it is, to feed on coarse
bread, and drink the same wine with our hinds, and not to covet purple,
and plastered houses, neither Aristides, nor Epaminondas, nor Manius
Curius, nor Caius Fabricius wanted necessaries, who took no pains to
get those things whose use they approved not. For it was not worth the
while of a man who esteemed turnips a most delicate food, and who
boiled them himself, whilst his wife made bread, to brag so often of a
halfpenny, and write a book to show how a man may soonest grow rich;
the very good of being contented with little is because it cuts off at
once the desire and the anxiety for superfluities. Hence Aristides, it
is told, said, on the trial of Callias, that it was for them to blush
at poverty, who were poor against their wills; they who like him were
willingly so, might glory in it. For it is ridiculous to think
Aristides's neediness imputable to his sloth, who might fairly enough
by the spoil of one barbarian, or seizing one tent, have become
wealthy. But enough of this.
Cato's expeditions added no great matter to the Roman empire, which
already was so great, as that in a manner it could receive no addition;
but those of Aristides are the noblest, most splendid, and
distinguished actions the Grecians ever did, the battles at Marathon,
Salamis, and Plataea. Nor indeed is Antiochus, nor the destruction of
the walls of the Spanish towns, to be compared with Xerxes, and the
destruction by sea and land of so many myriads of enemies; in all of
which noble exploits Aristides yielded to none, though he left the
glory and the laurels, like the wealth and money, to those who needed
and thirsted more greedily after them: because he was superior to those
also. I do not blame Cato for perpetually boasting and preferring
himself before all others, though in one of his orations he says, that
it is equally absurd to praise and dispraise one's self: yet he who
does not so much as desire others' praises, seems to me more perfectly
virtuous, than he who is always extolling himself. A mind free from
ambition is a main help to political gentleness: ambition, on the
contrary, is hard-hearted, and the greatest fomenter of envy; from
which Aristides was wholly exempt; Cato very subject to it. Aristides
assisted Themistocles in matters of highest importance, and, as his
subordinate officer, in a manner raised Athens: Cato, by opposing
Scipio, almost broke and defeated his expedition against the
Carthaginians, in which he overthrew Hannibal, who till then was even
invincible; and, at last, by continually raising suspicions and
calumnies against him, he chased him from the city, and inflicted a
disgraceful sentence on his brother for robbing the state.
Finally, that temperance which Cato always highly cried up, Aristides
preserved truly pure and untainted. But Cato's marriage, unbecoming his
dignity and age, is a considerable disparagement, in this respect, to
his character. For it was not decent for him at that age to bring home
to his son and his wife a young woman, the daughter of a common paid
clerk in the public service: but whether it were for his own
gratification or out of anger at his son, both the fact and the
presence were unworthy. For the reason he pretended to his son was
false: for if he desired to get more as worthy children, he ought to
have married a well-born wife; not to have contented himself, so long
as it was unnoticed, with a woman to whom he was not married; and, when
it was discovered, he ought not to have chosen such a father-in-law as
was easiest to be got, instead of one whose affinity might be honorable
to him.
PHILOPOEMEN
Cleander was a man of high birth and great power in the city of
Mantinea, but by the chances of the time happened to be driven from
thence. There being an intimate friendship betwixt him and Craugis, the
father of Philopoemen, who was a person of great distinction, he
settled at Megalopolis, where, while his friend lived, he had all he
could desire. When Craugis died, he repaid the father's hospitable
kindness in the care of the orphan son; by which means Philopoemen was
educated by him, as Homer says Achilles was by Phoenix, and from his
infancy molded to lofty and noble inclinations. But Ecdemus and
Demophanes had the principal tuition of him, after he was past the
years of childhood. They were both Megalopolitans; they had been
scholars in the academic philosophy, and friends to Arcesilaus, and
had, more than any of their contemporaries, brought philosophy to bear
upon action, and state affairs. They had freed their country from
tyranny by the death of Aristodemus, whom they caused to be killed;
they had assisted Aratus in driving out the tyrant Nicocles from
Sicyon; and, at the request of the Cyreneans, whose city was in a state
of extreme disorder and confusion, went thither by sea, and succeeded
in establishing good government and happily settling their
commonwealth. And among their best actions they themselves counted the
education of Philopoemen, thinking they had done a general good to
Greece, by giving him the nurture of philosophy. And indeed all Greece
(which looked upon him as a kind of latter birth brought forth, after
so many noble leaders, in her decrepit age) loved him wonderfully; and,
as his glory grew, increased his power. And one of the Romans, to
praise him, calls him the last of the Greeks; as if after him Greece
had produced no great man, nor who deserved the name of Greek.
His person was not, as some fancy, deformed; for his likeness is yet to
be seen at Delphi. The mistake of the hostess of Megara was occasioned,
it would seem, merely by his easiness of temper and his plain manners.
This hostess having word brought her, that the General of the Achaeans
was coming to her house in the absence of her husband, was all in a
hurry about providing his supper. Philopoemen, in an ordinary cloak,
arriving in this point of time, she took him for one of his own train
who had been sent on before, and bid him lend her his hand in her
household work. He forthwith threw off his cloak, and fell to cutting
up the fire-wood. The husband returning, and seeing him at it, "What,"
says he, "may this mean, O Philopoemen?" "I am," replied he in his
Doric dialect, "paying the penalty of my ugly looks." Titus Flamininus,
jesting with him upon his figure, told him one day, he had well-shaped
hands and feet, but no belly: and he was indeed slender in the waist.
But this raillery was meant to the poverty of his fortune; for he had
good horse and foot, but often wanted money to entertain and pay them.
These are the common anecdotes told of Philopoemen.
The love of honor and distinction was, in his character, not unalloyed
with feelings of personal rivalry and resentment. He made Epaminondas
his great example, and came not far behind him in activity, sagacity,
and incorruptible integrity; but his hot contentious temper continually
carried him out of the bounds of that gentleness, composure, and
humanity which had marked Epaminondas, and this made him thought a
pattern rather of military than of civil virtue. He was strongly
inclined to the life of a soldier even from his childhood, and he
studied and practiced all that belonged to it, taking great delight in
managing of horses, and handling of weapons. Because he was naturally
fitted to excel in wrestling, some of his friends and tutors
recommended his attention to athletic exercises. But he would first be
satisfied whether it would not interfere with his becoming a good
soldier. They told him, as was the truth, that the one life was
directly opposite to the other; the requisite state of body, the ways
of living, and the exercises all different: the professed athlete
sleeping much, and feeding plentifully, punctually regular in his set
times of exercise and rest, and apt to spoil all by every little
excess, or breach of his usual method; whereas the soldier ought to
train himself in every variety of change and irregularity, and, above
all, to bring himself to endure hunger and loss of sleep without
difficulty. Philopoemen, hearing this, not only laid by all thoughts of
wrestling and contemned it then, but when he came to be general,
discouraged it by all marks of reproach and dishonor he could imagine,
as a thing which made men, otherwise excellently fit for war, to be
utterly useless and unable to fight on necessary occasions.
When he left off his masters and teachers, and began to bear arms in
the incursions which his citizens used to make upon the Lacedaemonians
for pillage and plunder, he would always march out the first, and
return the last. When there was nothing to do, he sought to harden his
body, and make it strong and active by hunting, or laboring in his
ground. He had a good estate about twenty furlongs from the town, and
thither he would go every day after dinner and supper; and when night
came, throw himself upon the first mattress in his way, and there sleep
as one of the laborers. At break of day he would rise with the rest,
and work either in the vineyard or at the plow; from thence return
again to the town, and employ his time with his friends, or the
magistrates in public business. What he got in the wars, he laid out on
horses, or arms, or in ransoming captives; but endeavored to improve
his own property the justest way, by tillage; and this not slightly, by
way of diversion, but thinking it his strict duty, so to manage his own
fortune, as to be out of the temptation of wronging others.
He spent much time on eloquence and philosophy, but selected his
authors, and cared only for those by whom he might profit in virtue. In
Homer's fictions his attention was given to whatever he thought apt to
raise the courage. Of all other books he was most devoted to the
commentaries of Evangelus on military tactics, and also took delight,
at leisure hours, in the histories of Alexander; thinking that such
reading, unless undertaken for mere amusement and idle conversation,
was to the purpose for action. Even in speculations on military
subjects it was his habit to neglect maps and diagrams, and to put the
theorems to practical proof on the ground itself. He would be
exercising his thoughts, and considering, as he traveled, and arguing
with those about him of the difficulties of steep or broken ground,
what might happen at rivers, ditches, or mountain-passes, in marching
in close or in open, in this or in that particular form of battle. The
truth is, he indeed took an immoderate pleasure in military operations
and in warfare, to which he devoted himself, as the special means for
exercising all sorts of virtue, and utterly contemned those who were
not soldiers, as drones and useless in the commonwealth.
When he was thirty years of age, Cleomenes, king of the Lacedaemonians,
surprised Megalopolis by night, forced the guards, broke in, and seized
the marketplace. Philopoemen came out upon the alarm, and fought with
desperate courage, but could not beat the enemy out again; yet he
succeeded in effecting the escape of the citizens, who got away while
he made head against the pursuers, and amused Cleomenes, till, after
losing his horse and receiving several wounds, with much ado he came
off himself, being the last man in the retreat. The Megalopolitans
escaped to Messene, whither Cleomenes sent to offer them their town and
goods again. Philopoemen perceiving them to be only too glad at the
news, and eager to return, checked them with a speech, in which he made
them sensible, that what Cleomenes called restoring the city, was,
rather, possessing himself of the citizens, and through their means
securing also the city for the future. The mere solitude would, of
itself, erelong force him away, since there was no staying to guard
empty houses and naked walls. These reasons withheld the
Megalopolitans, but gave Cleomenes a pretext to pillage and destroy a
great part of the city, and carry away a great booty.
Awhile after king Antigonus coming down to succor the Achaeans, they
marched with their united forces against Cleomenes; who, having seized
the avenues, lay advantageously posted on the hills of Sellasia.
Antigonus drew up close by him, with a resolution to force him in his
strength. Philopoemen, with his citizens, was that day placed among the
horse, next to the Illyrian foot, a numerous body of bold fighters, who
completed the line of battle, forming, together with the Achaeans, the
reserve. Their orders were to keep their ground, and not engage till
from the other wing, where the king fought in person, they should see a
red coat lifted up on the point of a spear. The Achaeans obeyed their
order, and stood fast; but the Illyrians were led on by their
commanders to the attack. Euclidas, the brother of Cleomenes, seeing
the foot thus severed from the horse, detached the best of his
light-armed men, commanding them to wheel about, and charge the
unprotected Illyrians in the rear. This charge putting things in
confusion, Philopoemen, considering those light-armed men would be
easily repelled, went first to the king's officers to make them
sensible what the occasion required. But they not minding what he said,
but slighting him as a hare-brained fellow, (as indeed he was not yet
of any repute sufficient to give credit to a proposal of such
importance,) he charged with his own citizens, and at the first
encounter disordered, and soon after put the troops to flight with
great slaughter. Then, to encourage the king's army further, to bring
them all upon the enemy while he was in confusion, he quitted his
horse, and fighting with extreme difficulty in his heavy horseman's
dress, in rough uneven ground, full of watercourses and hollows, had
both his thighs struck through with a thonged javelin. It was thrown
with great force, so that the head came out on the other side, and made
a severe, though not a mortal, wound. There he stood awhile, as if he
had been shackled, unable to move. The fastening which joined the thong
to the javelin made it difficult to get it drawn out, nor would any
about him venture to do it. But the fight being now at the hottest, and
likely to be quickly decided, he was transported with the desire of
partaking in it, and struggled and strained so violently, setting one
leg forward, the other back, that at last he broke the shaft in two;
and thus got the pieces pulled out. Being in this manner set at
liberty, he caught up his sword, and running through the midst of those
who were fighting in the first ranks, animated his men, and set them
afire with emulation. Antigonus, after the victory, asked the
Macedonians, to try them, how it happened the horse had charged without
orders before the signal? They answering, that they were against their
wills forced to it by a young man of Megalopolis, who had fallen in
before his time: "that young man," replied Antigonus, smiling, "did
like an experienced commander."
This, as was natural, brought Philopoemen into great reputation.
Antigonus was earnest to have him in his service, and offered him very
advantageous conditions, both as to command and pay. But Philopoemen,
who knew that his nature brooked not to be under another, would not
accept them; yet not enduring to live idle, and hearing of wars in
Crete, for practice' sake he passed over thither. He spent some time
among those very warlike, and, at the same time, sober and temperate
men, improving much by experience in all sorts of service; and then
returned with so much fame, that the Achaeans presently chose him
commander of the horse. These horsemen at that time had neither
experience nor bravery, it being the custom to take any common horses,
the first and cheapest they could procure, when they were to march; and
on almost all occasions they did not go themselves, but hired others in
their places, and staid at home. Their former commanders winked at
this, because, it being an honor among the Achaeans to serve on
horseback, these men had great power in the commonwealth, and were able
to gratify or molest whom they pleased. Philopoemen, finding them in
this condition, yielded not to any such considerations, nor would pass
it over as formerly; but went himself from town to town, where,
speaking with the young men, one by one, he endeavored to excite a
spirit of ambition and love of honor among them, using punishment also,
where it was necessary. And then by public exercises, reviews, and
contests in the presence of numerous spectators, in a little time he
made them wonderfully strong and bold, and, which is reckoned of
greatest consequence in military service, light and agile. With use and
industry they grew so perfect, to such a command of their horses, such
a ready exactness in wheeling round in their troops, that in any change
of posture the whole body seemed to move with all the facility and
promptitude, and, as it were, with the single will of one man. In the
great battle, which they fought with the Aetolians and Eleans by the
river Larissus, he set them an example himself. Damophantus, general of
the Elean horse, singled out Philopoemen, and rode with full speed at
him. Philopoemen awaited his charge, and, before receiving the stroke,
with a violent blow of his spear threw him dead to the ground: upon
whose fall the enemy fled immediately. And now Philopoemen was in
everybody's mouth, as a man who in actual fighting with his own hand
yielded not to the youngest, nor in good conduct to the oldest, and
than whom there came not into the field any better soldier or commander.
Aratus, indeed, was the first who raised the Achaeans, inconsiderable
till then, into reputation and power, by uniting their divided cities
into one commonwealth, and establishing amongst them a humane and truly
Grecian form of government; and hence it happened, as in running
waters, where when a few little particles of matter once stop, others
stick to them, and one part strengthening another, the whole becomes
firm and solid; so in a general weakness, when every city relying only
on itself, all Greece was giving way to an easy dissolution, the
Achaeans, first forming themselves into a body, then drawing in their
neighbors round about, some by protection, delivering them from their
tyrants, others by peaceful consent and by naturalization, designed at
last to bring all Peloponnesus into one community. Yet while Aratus
lived, they depended much on the Macedonians, courting first Ptolemy,
then Antigonus and Philip, who all took part continually in whatever
concerned the affairs of Greece. But when Philopoemen came to command,
the Achaeans, feeling themselves a match for the most powerful of their
enemies, declined foreign support. The truth is, Aratus, as we have
written in his life, was not of so warlike a temper, but did most by
policy and gentleness, and friendships with foreign princes; but
Philopoemen being a man both of execution and command, a great soldier,
and fortunate in his first attempts, wonderfully heightened both the
power and courage of the Achaeans, accustomed to victory under his
conduct.
But first he altered what he found amiss in their arms, and form of
battle. Hitherto they had used light, thin bucklers, too narrow to
cover the body, and javelins much shorter than pikes. By which means
they were skillful in skirmishing at a distance, but in a close fight
had much the disadvantage. Then in drawing their forces up for battle,
they were never accustomed to form in regular divisions; and their line
being unprotected either by the thick array of projecting spears or by
their shields, as in the Macedonian phalanx, where the soldiers
shoulder close and their shields touch, they were easily opened, and
broken. Philopoemen reformed all this, persuading them to change the
narrow target and short javelin, into a large shield and long pike; to
arm their heads, bodies, thighs, and legs; and instead of loose
skirmishing, fight firmly and foot to foot. After he had brought them
all to wear full armor, and by that means into the confidence of
thinking themselves now invincible, he turned what before had been idle
profusion and luxury into an honorable expense. For being long used to
vie with each other in their dress, the furniture of their houses, and
service of their tables, and to glory in outdoing one another, the
disease by custom was grown incurable, and there was no possibility of
removing it altogether. But he diverted the passion, and brought them,
instead of these superfluities, to love useful and more manly display,
and, reducing their other expenses, to take delight in appearing
magnificent in their equipage of war. Nothing then was to be seen in
the shops but plate breaking up, or melting down, gilding of
breastplates, and studding bucklers and bits with silver; nothing in
the places of exercise, but horses managing, and young men exercising
their arms; nothing in the hands of the women, but helmets and crests
of feathers to be dyed, and military cloaks and riding-frocks to be
embroidered; the very sight of all which quickening and raising their
spirits, made them contemn dangers, and feel ready to venture on any
honorable dangers. Other kinds of sumptuosity give us pleasure, but
make us effeminate; the tickling of the sense slackening the vigor of
the mind; but magnificence of this kind strengthens and heightens the
courage; as Homer makes Achilles at the sight of his new arms exulting
with joy, and on fire to use them. When Philopoemen had obtained of
them to arm, and set themselves out in this manner, he proceeded to
train them, mustering and exercising them perpetually; in which they
obeyed him with great zeal and eagerness. For they were wonderfully
pleased with their new form of battle, which, being so knit and
cemented together, seemed almost incapable of being broken. And then
their arms, which for their riches and beauty they wore with pleasure,
becoming light and easy to them with constant use, they longed for
nothing more than to try them with an enemy, and fight in earnest.
The Achaeans at that time were at war with Machanidas, the tyrant of
Lacedaemon, who, having a strong army watched all opportunities of
becoming entire master of Peloponnesus. When intelligence came that he
was fallen upon the Mantineans, Philopoemen forthwith took the field,
and marched towards him. They met near Mantinea, and drew up in sight
of the city. Both, besides the whole strength of their several cities,
had a good number of mercenaries in pay. When they came to fall on,
Machanidas, with his hired soldiers, beat the spearmen and the
Tarentines whom Philopoemen had placed in the front. But when he should
have charged immediately into the main battle, which stood close and
firm, he hotly followed the chase; and instead of attacking the
Achaeans, passed on beyond them, while they remained drawn up in their
place. With so untoward a beginning the rest of the confederates gave
themselves up for lost; but Philopoemen, professing to make it a matter
of small consequence, and observing the enemy's oversight, who had thus
left an opening in their main body, and exposed their own phalanx, made
no sort of motion to oppose them, but let them pursue the chase freely,
till they had placed themselves at a great distance from him. Then
seeing the Lacedaemonians before him deserted by their horse, with
their flanks quite bare, he charged suddenly, and surprised them
without a commander, and not so much as expecting an encounter, as,
when they saw Machanidas driving the beaten enemy before him, they
thought the victory already gained. He overthrew them with great
slaughter, (they report above four thousand killed in the place,) and
then faced about against Machanidas, who was returning with his
mercenaries from the pursuit. There happened to be a broad deep ditch
between them, along side of which both rode their horses for awhile,
the one trying to get over and fly, the other to hinder him. It looked
less like the contest between two generals than like the last defense
of some wild beast, brought to bay by the keen huntsman Philopoemen,
and forced to fight for his life. The tyrant's horse was mettled and
strong; and feeling the bloody spurs in his sides, ventured to take the
ditch. He had already so far reached the other side, as to have planted
his fore-feet upon it, and was struggling to raise himself with these,
when Simmias and Polyaenus, who used to fight by the side of
Philopoemen, came up on horseback to his assistance. But Philopoemen,
before either of them, himself met Machanidas; and perceiving that the
horse with his head high reared, covered his master's body, he turned
his own a little, and holding his javelin by the middle, drove it
against the tyrant with all his force, and tumbled him dead into the
ditch. Such is the precise posture in which he stands at Delphi in the
brazen statue which the Achaeans set up of him, in admiration of his
valor in this single combat, and conduct during the whole day.
We are told that at the Nemean games, a little after this victory,
Philopoemen being then General the second time, and at leisure on the
occasion of the solemnity, first showed the Greeks his army drawn up in
full array as if they were to fight, and executed with it all the
maneuvers of a battle with wonderful order, strength, and celerity.
After which he went into the theater, while the musicians were singing
for the prize, followed by the young soldiers in their military cloaks
and their scarlet frocks under their armor, all in the very height of
bodily vigor, and much alike in age, showing a high respect to their
general; yet breathing at the same time a noble confidence in
themselves, raised by success in many glorious encounters. Just at
their coming in, it so happened, that the musician Pylades, with a
voice well suited to the lofty style of the poet, was in the act of
commencing the Persians of Timotheus,
Under his conduct Greece was glorious and was free.
The whole theater at once turned to look at Philopoemen, and clapped
with delight; their hopes venturing once more to return to their
country's former reputation; and their feelings almost rising to the
height of their ancient spirit.
It was with the Achaeans as with young horses, which go quietly with
their usual riders, but grow unruly and restive under strangers. The
soldiers, when any service was in hand, and Philopoemen not at their
head, grew dejected and looked about for him; but if he once appeared,
came presently to themselves, and recovered their confidence and
courage, being sensible that this was the only one of their commanders
whom the enemy could not endure to face; but, as appeared in several
occasions, were frighted with his very name. Thus we find that Philip,
king of Macedon, thinking to terrify the Achaeans into subjection
again, if he could rid his hands of Philopoemen, employed some persons
privately to assassinate him. But the treachery coming to light, he
became infamous, and lost his character through Greece. The Boeotians
besieging Megara, and ready to carry the town by storm, upon a
groundless rumor that Philopoemen was at hand with succor, ran away,
and left their scaling ladders at the wall behind them. Nabis, (who was
tyrant of Lacedaemon after Machanidas,) had surprised Messene at a time
when Philopoemen was out of command. He tried to persuade Lysippus,
then General of the Achaeans, to succor Messene: but not prevailing
with him, because, he said, the enemy being now within it, the place
was irrecoverably lost, he resolved to go himself, without order or
commission, followed merely by his own immediate fellow-citizens who
went with him as their general by commission from nature, which had
made him fittest to command. Nabis, hearing of his coming, though his
army quartered within the town, thought it not convenient to stay; but
stealing out of the furthest gate with his men, marched away with all
the speed he could, thinking himself a happy man if he could get off
with safety. And he did escape; but Messene was rescued.
All hitherto makes for the praise and honor of Philopoemen. But when at
the request of the Gortynians he went away into Crete to command for
them, at a time when his own country was distressed by Nabis, he
exposed himself to the charge of either cowardice, or unseasonable
ambition of honor amongst foreigners. For the Megalopolitans were then
so pressed, that, the enemy being master of the field and encamping
almost at their gates, they were forced to keep themselves within their
walls, and sow their very streets. And he in the mean time, across the
seas, waging war and commanding in chief in a foreign nation, furnished
his ill-wishers with matter enough for their reproaches. Some said he
took the offer of the Gortynians, because the Achaeans chose other
generals, and left him but a private man. For he could not endure to
sit still, but looking upon war and command in it as his great
business, always coveted to be employed. And this agrees with what he
once aptly said of king Ptolemy. Somebody was praising him for keeping
his army and himself in an admirable state of discipline and exercise:
"And what praise," replied Philopoemen, "for a king of his years, to be
always preparing, and never performing?" However, the Megalopolitans,
thinking themselves betrayed, took it so ill, that they were about to
banish him. But the Achaeans put an end to that design, by sending
their General, Aristaeus, to Megalopolis, who, though he were at
difference with Philopoemen about affairs of the commonwealth, yet
would not suffer him to be banished. Philopoemen finding himself upon
this account out of favor with his citizens, induced divers of the
little neighboring places to renounce obedience to them, suggesting to
them to urge that from the beginning they were not subject to their
taxes, or laws, or any way under their command. In these pretenses he
openly took their part, and fomented seditious movements amongst the
Achaeans in general against Megalopolis. But these things happened a
while after.
While he stayed in Crete, in the service of the Gortynians, he made war
not like a Peloponnesian and Arcadian, fairly in the open field, but
fought with them at their own weapon, and turning their stratagems and
tricks against themselves, showed them they played craft against skill,
and were but children to an experienced soldier. Having acted here with
great bravery, and great reputation to himself, he returned into
Peloponnesus, where he found Philip beaten by Titus Quintius, and Nabis
at war both with the Romans and Achaeans. He was at once chosen general
against Nabis, but venturing to fight by sea, met, like Epaminondas,
with a result very contrary to the general expectation, and his own
former reputation. Epaminondas, however, according to some statements,
was backward by design, unwilling to give his countrymen an appetite
for the advantages of the sea, lest from good soldiers, they should by
little and little turn, as Plato says, to ill mariners. And therefore
he returned from Asia and the Islands without doing any thing, on
purpose. Whereas Philopoemen, thinking his skill in land-service would
equally avail at sea, learned how great a part of valor experience is,
and how much it imports in the management of things to be accustomed to
them. For he was not only put to the worst in the fight for want of
skill, but having rigged up an old ship, which had been a famous vessel
forty years before, and shipped his citizens in her, she foundering, he
was in danger of losing them all. But finding the enemy, as if he had
been driven out of the sea, had, in contempt of him, besieged Gythium,
he presently set sail again, and, taking them unexpectedly, dispersed
and careless after their victory, landed in the night, burnt their
camp, and killed a great number.
A few days after, as he was marching through a rough country, Nabis
came suddenly upon him. The Achaeans were dismayed, and in such
difficult ground where the enemy had secured the advantage, despaired
to get off with safety. Philopoemen made a little halt, and, viewing
the ground, soon made it appear, that the one important thing in war is
skill in drawing up an army. For by advancing only a few paces, and,
without any confusion or trouble, altering his order according to the
nature of the place, he immediately relieved himself from every
difficulty, and then charging, put the enemy to flight. But when he saw
they fled, not towards the city, but dispersed every man a different
way all over the field, which for wood and hills, brooks and hollows
was not passable by horse, he sounded a retreat, and encamped by broad
daylight. Then foreseeing the enemy would endeavor to steal
scatteringly into the city in the dark, he posted strong parties of the
Achaeans all along the watercourses and sloping ground near the walls.
Many of Nabis's men fell into their hands. For returning not in a body,
but as the chance of flight had disposed of every one, they were caught
like birds ere they could enter into the town.
These actions obtained him distinguished marks of affection and honor
in all the theaters of Greece, but not without the secret ill-will of
Titus Flamininus, who was naturally eager for glory, and thought it but
reasonable a consul of Rome should be otherwise esteemed by the
Achaeans, than a common Arcadian; especially as there was no comparison
between what he, and what Philopoemen had done for them, he having by
one proclamation restored all Greece, as much as had been subject to
Philip and the Macedonians, to liberty. After this, Titus made peace
with Nabis, and Nabis was circumvented and slain by the Aetolians.
Things being then in confusion at Sparta, Philopoemen laid hold of the
occasion, and coming upon them with an army, prevailed with some by
persuasion, with others by fear, till he brought the whole city over to
the Achaeans. As it was no small matter for Sparta to become a member
of Achaea, this action gained him infinite praise from the Achaeans,
for having strengthened their confederacy by the addition of so great
and powerful a city, and not a little good-will from the nobility of
Sparta itself, who hoped they had now procured an ally, who would
defend their freedom. Accordingly, having raised a sum of one hundred
and twenty silver talents by the sale of the house and goods of Nabis,
they decreed him the money, and sent a deputation in the name of the
city to present it. But here the honesty of Philopoemen showed itself
clearly to be a real, uncounterfeited virtue. For first of all, there
was not a man among them who would undertake to make him this offer of
a present, but every one excusing himself, and shifting it off upon his
fellow, they laid the office at last on Timolaus, with whom he had
lodged at Sparta. Then Timolaus came to Megalopolis, and was
entertained by Philopoemen; but struck into admiration with the dignity
of his life and manners, and the simplicity of his habits, judging him
to be utterly inaccessible to any such considerations, he said nothing,
but pretending other business, returned without a word mentioned of the
present. He was sent again, and did just as formerly. But the third
time with much ado, and faltering in his words, he acquainted
Philopoemen with the good-will of the city of Sparta to him.
Philopoemen listened obligingly and gladly; and then went himself to
Sparta, where he advised them, not to bribe good men and their friends,
of whose virtue they might be sure without charge to themselves; but to
buy off and silence ill citizens, who disquieted the city with their
seditious speeches in the public assemblies; for it was better to bar
liberty of speech in enemies, than friends. Thus it appeared how much
Philopoemen was above bribery.
Diophanes being afterwards General of the Achaeans, and hearing the
Lacedaemonians were bent on new commotions, resolved to chastise them;
they, on the other side, being set upon war, were embroiling all
Peloponnesus. Philopoemen on this occasion did all he could to keep
Diophanes quiet and to make him sensible that as the times went, while
Antiochus and the Romans were disputing their pretensions with vast
armies in the heart of Greece, it concerned a man in his position to
keep a watchful eye over them, and dissembling, and putting up with any
less important grievances, to preserve all quiet at home. Diophanes
would not be ruled, but joined with Titus, and both together falling
into Laconia, marched directly to Sparta. Philopoemen, upon this, took,
in his indignation, a step which certainly was not lawful, nor in the
strictest sense just, but boldly and loftily conceived. Entering into
the town himself, he, a private man as he was, refused admission to
both the consul of Rome, and the General of the Achaeans, quieted the
disorders in the city, and reunited it on the same terms as before to
the Achaean confederacy.
Yet afterwards, when he was General himself, upon some new misdemeanor
of the Lacedaemonians, he brought back those who had been banished,
put, as Polybius writes, eighty, according to Aristocrates three
hundred and fifty, Spartans to death, razed the walls, took away a good
part of their territory and transferred it to the Megalopolitans,
forced out of the country and carried into Achaea all who had been made
citizens of Sparta by tyrants, except three thousand who would not
submit to banishment. These he sold for slaves, and with the money, as
if to insult over them, built a colonnade at Megalopolis. Lastly,
unworthily trampling upon the Lacedaemonians in their calamities, and
gratifying his hostility by a most oppressive and arbitrary action, he
abolished the laws of Lycurgus, and forced them to educate their
children, and live after the manner of the Achaeans; as though, while
they kept to the discipline of Lycurgus, there was no humbling their
haughty spirits. In their present distress and adversity they allowed
Philopoemen thus to cut the sinews of their commonwealth asunder, and
behaved themselves humbly and submissively. But afterwards in no long
time, obtaining the support of the Romans, they abandoned their new
Achaean citizenship; and as much as in so miserable and ruined a
condition they could, reestablished their ancient discipline.
When the war betwixt Antiochus and the Romans broke out in Greece,
Philopoemen was a private man. He repined grievously, when he saw
Antiochus lay idle at Chalcis, spending his time in unseasonable
courtship and weddings, while his men lay dispersed in several towns,
without order or commanders, and minding nothing but their pleasures.
He complained much that he was not himself in office, and said he
envied the Romans their victory; and that if he had had the fortune to
be then in command, he would have surprised and killed the whole army
in the taverns.
When Antiochus was overcome, the Romans pressed harder upon Greece, and
encompassed the Achaeans with their power; the popular leaders in the
several cities yielded before them; and their power speedily, under the
divine guidance, advanced to the consummation due to it in the
revolutions of fortune. Philopoemen, in this conjuncture, carried
himself like a good pilot in a high sea, sometimes shifting sail, and
sometimes yielding, but still steering steady; and omitting no
opportunity nor effort to keep all who were considerable, whether for
eloquence or riches, fast to the defense of their common liberty.
Aristaenus, a Megalopolitan of great credit among the Achaeans, but
always a favorer of the Romans, saying one day in the senate, that the
Romans should not be opposed, or displeased in any way, Philopoemen
heard him with an impatient silence; but at last, not able to hold
longer, said angrily to him, "And why be in such haste, wretched man,
to behold the end of Greece?" Manius, the Roman consul, after the
defeat of Antiochus, requested the Achaeans to restore the banished
Lacedaemonians to their country, which motion was seconded and
supported by all the interest of Titus. But Philopoemen crossed it, not
from ill-will to the men, but that they might be beholden to him and
the Achaeans, not to Titus and the Romans. For when he came to be
General himself, he restored them. So impatient was his spirit of any
subjection, and so prone his nature to contest everything with men in
power.
Being now threescore and ten, and the eighth time General, he was in
hope to pass in quiet, not only the year of his magistracy, but his
remaining life. For as our diseases decline, as it is supposed, with
our declining bodily strength, so the quarreling humor of the Greeks
abated much with their failing political greatness. But fortune or some
divine retributive power threw him down the in close of his life, like
a successful runner who stumbles at the goal. It is reported, that
being in company where one was praised for a great commander, he
replied, there was no great account to be made of a man, who had
suffered himself to be taken alive by his enemies.
A few days after, news came that Dinocrates the Messenian, a particular
enemy to Philopoemen, and for his wickedness and villanies generally
hated, had induced Messene to revolt from the Achaeans, and was about
to seize upon a little place called Colonis. Philopoemen lay then sick
of a fever at Argos. Upon the news he hasted away, and reached
Megalopolis, which was distant above four hundred furlongs, in a day.
From thence he immediately led out the horse, the noblest of the city,
young men in the vigor of their age, and eager to proffer their
service, both from attachment to Philopoemen, and zeal for the cause.
As they marched towards Messene, they met with Dinocrates, near the
hill of Evander, charged and routed him. But five hundred fresh men,
who, being left for a guard to the country, came in late, happening to
appear, the flying enemy rallied again about the hills. Philopoemen,
fearing to be enclosed, and solicitous for his men, retreated over
ground extremely disadvantageous, bringing up the rear himself. As he
often faced, and made charges upon the enemy, he drew them upon
himself; though they merely made movements at a distance, and shouted
about him, nobody daring to approach him. In his care to save every
single man, he left his main body so often, that at last he found
himself alone among the thickest of his enemies. Yet even then none
durst come up to him, but being pelted at a distance, and driven to
stony steep places, he had great difficulty, with much spurring, to
guide his horse aright. His age was no hindrance to him, for with
perpetual exercise it was both strong and active; but being weakened
with sickness, and tired with his long journey, his horse stumbling, he
fell encumbered with his arms, and faint, upon a hard and rugged piece
of ground. His head received such a shock with the fall, that he lay
awhile speechless, so that the enemy, thinking him dead, began to turn
and strip him. But when they saw him lift up his head and open his
eyes, they threw themselves all together upon him, bound his hands
behind him, and carried him off, every kind of insult and contumely
being lavished on him who truly had never so much as dreamed of being
led in triumph by Dinocrates.
The Messenians, wonderfully elated with the news, thronged in swarms to
the city gates. But when they saw Philopoemen in a posture so
unsuitable to the glory of his great actions and famous victories, most
of them, struck with grief and cursing the deceitful vanity of human
fortune, even shed tears of compassion at the spectacle. Such tears by
little and little turned to kind words, and it was almost in
everybody's mouth that they ought to remember what he had done for
them, and how he had preserved the common liberty, by driving away
Nabis. Some few, to make their court to Dinocrates, were for torturing
and then putting him to death as a dangerous and irreconcilable enemy;
all the more formitable to Dinocrates, who had taken him prisoner,
should he after this misfortune, regain his liberty. They put him at
last into a dungeon underground, which they called the treasury, a
place into which there came no air nor light from abroad; and, which,
having no doors, was closed with a great stone. This they rolled into
the entrance and fixed, and placing a guard about it, left him. In the
mean time Philopoemen's soldiers, recovering themselves after their
flight, and fearing he was dead when he appeared nowhere, made a stand,
calling him with loud cries, and reproaching one another with their
unworthy and shameful escape; having betrayed their general, who, to
preserve their lives, had lost his own. Then returning after much
inquiry and search, hearing at last that he was taken, they sent away
messengers round about with the news. The Achaeans resented the
misfortune deeply, and decreed to send and demand him; and, in the
meantime, drew their army together for his rescue.
While these things passed in Achaea, Dinocrates, fearing that any delay
would save Philopoemen, and resolving to be beforehand with the
Achaeans, as soon as night had dispersed the multitude, sent in the
executioner with poison, with orders not to stir from him till he had
taken it. Philopoemen had then laid down, wrapt up in his cloak, not
sleeping, but oppressed with grief and trouble; but seeing light, and a
man with poison by him, struggled to sit up; and, taking the cup, asked
the man if he heard anything of the horsemen, particularly Lycortas?
The fellow answering, that the most part had got off safe, he nodded,
and looking cheerfully upon him, "It is well," he said, "that we have
not been every way unfortunate;" and without a word more, drank it off,
and laid him down, again. His weakness offering but little resistance
to the poison, it dispatched him presently.
The news of his death filled all Achaea with grief and lamentation. The
youth, with some of the chief of the several cities, met at Megalopolis
with a resolution to take revenge without delay. They chose Lycortas
general, and falling upon the Messenians, put all to fire and sword,
till they all with one consent made their submission. Dinocrates, with
as many as had voted for Philopoemen's death, anticipated their
vengeance and killed themselves. Those who would have had him tortured,
Lycortas put in chains and reserved for severer punishment. They burnt
his body, and put the ashes into an urn, and then marched homeward, not
as in an ordinary march, but with a kind of solemn pomp, half triumph,
half funeral, crowns of victory on their heads, and tears in their
eyes, and their captive enemies in fetters by them. Polybius, the
general's son, carried the urn, so covered with garlands and ribbons as
scarcely to be visible; and the noblest of the Achaeans accompanied
him. The soldiers followed fully armed and mounted, with looks neither
altogether sad as in mourning, nor lofty as in victory. The people from
all towns and villages in their way, flocked out to meet him, as at his
return from conquest, and, saluting the urn, fell in with the company,
and followed on to Megalopolis; where, when the old men, the women and
children were mingled with the rest, the whole city was filled with
sighs, complaints, and cries, the loss of Philopoemen seeming to them
the loss of their own greatness, and of their rank among the Achaeans.
Thus he was honorably buried according to his worth, and the prisoners
were stoned about his tomb.
Many statues were set up, and many honors decreed to him by the several
cities. One of the Romans in the time of Greece's affliction, after the
destruction of Corinth, publicly accusing Philopoemen, as if he had
been still alive, of having been the enemy of Rome, proposed that these
memorials should all be removed. A discussion ensued, speeches were
made, and Polybius answered the sycophant at large. And neither Mummius
nor the lieutenants would suffer the honorable monuments of so great a
man to be defaced, though he had often crossed both Titus and Manius.
They justly distinguished, and as became honest men, betwixt usefulness
and virtue, -- what is good in itself, and what is profitable to
particular parties, -- judging thanks and reward due to him who does a
benefit, from him who receives it, and honor never to be denied by the
good to the good. And so much concerning Philopoemen.
FLAMININUS
What Titus Quintius Flamininus, whom we select as a parallel to
Philopoemen, was in personal appearance, those who are curious may see
by the brazen statue of him, which stands in Rome near that of the
great Apollo, brought from Carthage, opposite to the Circus Maximus,
with a Greek inscription upon it. The temper of his mind is said to
have been of the warmest both in anger and in kindness; not indeed
equally so in both respects; as in punishing, he was ever moderate,
never inflexible; but whatever courtesy or good turn he set about, he
went through with it, and was as perpetually kind and obliging to those
on whom he had poured his favors, as if they, not he, had been the
benefactors: exerting himself for the security and preservation of what
he seemed to consider his noblest possessions, those to whom he had
done good. But being ever thirsty after honor, and passionate for
glory, if anything of a greater and more extraordinary nature were to
be done, he was eager to be the doer of it himself; and took more
pleasure in those that needed, than in those that were capable of
conferring favors; looking on the former as objects for his virtue, and
on the latter as competitors in glory.
Rome had then many sharp contests going on, and her youth betaking
themselves early to the wars, learned betimes the art of commanding;
and Flamininus, having passed through the rudiments of soldiery,
received his first charge in the war against Hannibal, as tribune under
Marcellus, then consul. Marcellus, indeed, falling into an ambuscade,
was cut off. But Titus, receiving the appointment of governor, as well
of Tarentum, then retaken, as of the country about it, grew no less
famous for his administration of justice, than for his military skill.
This obtained him the office of leader and founder of two colonies
which were sent into the cities of Narnia and Cossa; which filled him
with loftier hopes, and made him aspire to step over those previous
honors which it was usual first to pass through, the offices of tribune
of the people, praetor and aedile, and to level his aim immediately at
the consulship. Having these colonies, and all their interest ready at
his service, he offered himself as candidate; but the tribunes of the
people, Fulvius and Manius, and their party, strongly opposed him;
alleging how unbecoming a thing it was, that a man of such raw years,
one who was yet, as it were, untrained, uninitiated in the first sacred
rites and mysteries of government, should, in contempt of the laws,
intrude and force himself into the sovereignty.
However, the senate remitted it to the people's choice and suffrage;
who elected him (though not then arrived at his thirtieth year) consul
with Sextus Aelius. The war against Philip and the Macedonians fell to
Titus by lot, and some kind fortune, propitious at that time to the
Romans, seems to have so determined it; as neither the people nor the
state of things which were now to be dealt with, were such as to
require a general who would always be upon the point of force and mere
blows, but rather were accessible to persuasion and gentle usage. It is
true that the kingdom of Macedon furnished supplies enough to Philip
for actual battle with the Romans; but to maintain a long and lingering
war, he must call in aid from Greece; must thence procure his supplies;
there find his means of retreat; Greece, in a word, would be his
resource for all the requisites of his army. Unless, therefore, the
Greeks could be withdrawn from siding with Philip, this war with him
must not expect its decision from a single battle. Now Greece (which
had not hitherto held much correspondence with the Romans, but first
began an intercourse on this occasion) would not so soon have embraced
a foreign authority, instead of the commanders she had been inured to,
had not the general of these strangers been of a kind gentle nature,
one who worked rather by fair means than force; of a persuasive address
in all applications to others, and no less courteous, and open to all
addresses of others to him; and above all bent and determined on
justice. But the story of his actions will best illustrate these
particulars.
Titus observed that both Sulpicius and Publius, who had been his
predecessors in that command, had not taken the field against the
Macedonians till late in the year; and then, too, had not set their
hands properly to the war, but had kept skirmishing and scouting here
and there for passes and provisions, and never came to close fighting
with Philip. He resolved not to trifle away a year, as they had done,
at home in ostentation of the honor, and in domestic administration,
and only then to join the army, with the pitiful hope of protracting
the term of office through a second year, acting as consul in the
first, and as general in the latter. He was, moreover, infinitely
desirous to employ his authority with effect upon the war, which made
him slight those home-honors and prerogatives. Requesting, therefore,
of the senate, that his brother Lucius might act with him as admiral of
the navy, and taking with him to be the edge, as it were, of the
expedition three thousand still young and vigorous soldiers, of those
who, under Scipio, had defeated Asdrubal in Spain, and Hannibal in
Africa, he got safe into Epirus; and found Publius encamped with his
army, over against Philip, who had long made good the pass over the
river Apsus, and the straits there; Publius not having been able, for
the natural strength of the place, to effect anything against him.
Titus therefore took upon himself the conduct of the army, and, having
dismissed Publius, examined the ground. The place is in strength not
inferior to Tempe, though it lacks the trees and green woods, and the
pleasant meadows and walks that adorn Tempe. The Apsus, making its way
between vast and lofty mountains which all but meet above a single deep
ravine in the midst, is not unlike the river Peneus, in the rapidity of
its current, and in its general appearance. It covers the foot of those
hills, and leaves only a craggy, narrow path cut out beside the stream,
not easily passable at any time for an army, but not at all when
guarded by an enemy.
There were some, therefore, who would have had Titus make a circuit
through Dassaretis, and take an easy and safe road by the district of
Lyncus. But he, fearing that if he should engage himself too far from
the sea in barren and untilled countries, and Philip should decline
fighting, he might, through want of provisions, be constrained to march
back again to the seaside without effecting anything, as his
predecessor had done before him, embraced the resolution of forcing his
way over the mountains. But Philip, having possessed himself of them
with his army, showered down his darts and arrows from all parts upon
the Romans. Sharp encounters took place, and many fell wounded and
slain on both sides, and there seemed but little likelihood of thus
ending the war; when some of the men, who fed their cattle thereabouts,
came to Titus with a discovery, that there was a roundabout way which
the enemy neglected to guard; through which they undertook to conduct
his army, and to bring it within three days at furthest, to the top of
the hills. To gain the surer credit with him, they said that Charops,
son of Machatas, a leading man in Epirus, who was friendly to the
Romans, and aided them (though, for fear of Philip, secretly), was
privy to the design. Titus gave their information belief, and sent a
captain with four thousand foot, and three hundred horse; these
herdsmen being their guides, but kept in bonds. In the daytime they lay
still under the covert of the hollow and woody places, but in the night
they marched by moonlight, the moon being then at the full. Titus,
having detached this party, lay quiet with his main body, merely
keeping up the attention of the enemy by some slight skirmishing. But
when the day arrived, that those who stole round, were expected upon
the top of the hill, he drew up his forces early in the morning, as
well the light-armed as the heavy, and, dividing them into three parts,
himself led the van, marching his men up the narrow passage along the
bank, darted at by the Macedonians, and engaging, in this difficult
ground, hand to hand with his assailants; whilst the other two
divisions on either side of him, threw themselves with great alacrity
among the rocks. Whilst they were struggling forward, the sun rose, and
a thin smoke, like a mist, hanging on the hills, was seen rising at a
distance, unperceived by the enemy, being behind them, as they stood on
the heights; and the Romans, also, as yet under suspense, in the toil
and difficulty they were in, could only doubtfully construe the sight
according to their desires. But as it grew thicker and thicker,
blackening the air, and mounting to a greater height, they no longer
doubted but it was the fire-signal of their companions; and, raising a
triumphant shout, forcing their way onwards, they drove the enemy back
into the roughest ground; while the other party echoed back their
acclamations from the top of the mountain.
The Macedonians fled with all the speed they could make; there fell,
indeed, not more than two thousand of them; for the difficulties of the
place rescued them from pursuit. But the Romans pillaged their camp,
seized upon their money and slaves, and, becoming absolute masters of
the pass, traversed all Epirus; but with such order and discipline,
with such temperance and moderation, that, though they were far from
the sea, at a great distance from their vessels, and stinted of their
monthly allowance of corn, and though they had much difficulty in
buying, they nevertheless abstained altogether from plundering the
country, which had provisions enough of all sorts in it. For
intelligence being received that Philip making a flight, rather than a
march, through Thessaly, forced the inhabitants from the towns to take
shelter in the mountains, burnt down the towns themselves, and gave up
as spoil to his soldiers all the property which it had been found
impossible to remove, abandoning, as it would seem, the whole country
to the Romans. Titus was, therefore, very desirous, and entreated his
soldiers that they would pass through it as if it were their own, or as
if a place trusted into their hands; and, indeed, they quickly
perceived, by the event, what benefit they derived from this moderate
and orderly conduct. For they no sooner set foot in Thessaly, but the
cities opened their gates, and the Greeks, within Thermopylae, were all
eagerness and excitement to ally themselves with them. The Achaeans
abandoned their alliance with Philip, and voted to join with the Romans
in actual arms against him; and the Opuntians, though the Aetolians,
who were zealous allies of the Romans, were willing and desirous to
undertake the protection of the city, would not listen to proposals
from them; but, sending for Titus, entrusted and committed themselves
to his charge.
It is told of Pyrrhus, that when first, from an adjacent hill or
watchtower which gave him a prospect of the Roman army, he descried
them drawn up in order, he observed, that he saw nothing barbarian-like
in this barbarian line of battle. And all who came near Titus, could
not choose but say as much of him, at their first view. For they who
had been told by the Macedonians of an invader, at the head of a
barbarian army, carrying everywhere slavery and destruction on his
sword's point; when in lieu of such an one, they met a man, in the
flower of his age, of a gentle and humane aspect, a Greek in his voice
and language, and a lover of honor, were wonderfully pleased and
attracted; and when they left him, they filled the cities, wherever
they went, with favorable feelings for him, and with the belief that in
him they might find the protector and asserter of their liberties. And
when afterwards, on Philip's professing a desire for peace, Titus made
a tender to him of peace and friendship, upon the condition that the
Greeks be left to their own laws, and that he should withdraw his
garrisons, which he refused to comply with, now after these proposals,
the universal belief even of the favorers and partisans of Philip, was,
that the Romans came not to fight against the Greeks, but for the
Greeks, against the Macedonians.
Accordingly, all the rest of Greece came to peaceable terms with him.
But as he marched into Boeotia, without committing the least act of
hostility, the nobility and chief men of Thebes came out of their city
to meet him, devoted under the influence of Brachylles to the
Macedonian alliance, but desirous at the same time to show honor and
deference to Titus; as they were, they conceived, in amity with both
parties. Titus received them in the most obliging and courteous manner,
but kept going gently on, questioning and inquiring of them, and
sometimes entertaining them with narratives of his own, till his
soldiers might a little recover from the weariness of their journey.
Thus passing on, he and the Thebans came together into their city not
much to their satisfaction; but yet they could not well deny him
entrance, as a good number of his men attended him in. Titus, however,
now he was within, as if he had not had the city at his mercy, came
forward and addressed them, urging them to join the Roman interest.
King Attalus followed to the same effect. And he, indeed, trying to
play the advocate, beyond what it seems his age could bear, was seized,
in the midst of his speech, with a sudden flux or dizziness, and
swooned away; and, not long after, was conveyed by ship into Asia, and
died there. The Boeotians joined the Roman alliance.
But now, when Philip sent an embassy to Rome, Titus dispatched away
agents on his part, too, to solicit the senate, if they should continue
the war, to continue him in his command, or if they determined an end
to that, that he might have the honor of concluding the peace. Having a
great passion for distinction, his fear was, that if another general
were commissioned to carry on the war, the honor even of what was
passed, would be lost to him; and his friends transacted matters so
well on his behalf, that Philip was unsuccessful in his proposals, and
the management of the war was confirmed in his hands. He no sooner
received the senate's determination, but, big with hopes, he marches
directly into Thessaly, to engage Philip; his army consisting of
twenty-six thousand men, out of which the Aetolians furnished six
thousand foot and four hundred horse. The forces of Philip were much
about the same number. In this eagerness to encounter, they advanced
against each other, till both were near Scotussa, where they resolved
to hazard a battle. Nor had the approach of these two formidable armies
the effect that might have been supposed, to strike into the generals a
mutual terror of each other; it rather inspired them with ardor and
ambition; on the Romans' part, to be the conquerors of Macedon, a name
which Alexander had made famous amongst them for strength and valor;
whilst the Macedonians, on the other hand, esteeming of the Romans as
an enemy very different from the Persians, hoped, if victory stood on
their side, to make the name of Philip more glorious than that of
Alexander. Titus, therefore, called upon his soldiers to play the part
of valiant men, because they were now to act their parts upon the most
illustrious theater of the world, Greece, and to contend with the
bravest antagonists. And Philip, on the other side, commenced an
harangue to his men, as usual before an engagement, and to be the
better heard, (whether it were merely a mischance, or the result of
unseasonable haste, not observing what he did,) mounted an eminence
outside their camp, which proved to be a burying-place; and much
disturbed by the despondency that seized his army at the unluckiness of
the omen, all that day kept in his camp, and declined fighting.
But on the morrow, as day came on, after a soft and rainy night, the
clouds changing into a mist filled all the plain with thick darkness;
and a dense foggy air descending, by the time it was full day, from the
adjacent mountains into the ground betwixt the two camps, concealed
them from each other's view. The parties sent out on either side, some
for ambuscade, some for discovery, falling in upon one another quickly
after they were thus detached, began the fight at what are called the
Cynos Cephalae, a number of sharp tops of hills that stand close to one
another, and have the name from some resemblance in their shape. Now
many vicissitudes and changes happening, as may well be expected, in
such an uneven field of battle, sometimes hot pursuit, and sometimes as
rapid a flight, the generals on both sides kept sending in succors from
the main bodies, as they saw their men pressed or giving ground, till
at length the heavens clearing up, let them see what was going on, upon
which the whole armies engaged. Philip, who was in the right wing, from
the advantage of the higher ground which he had, threw on the Romans
the whole weight of his phalanx, with a force which they were unable to
sustain; the dense array of spears, and the pressure of the compact
mass overpowering them. But the king's left wing being broken up by the
hilliness of the place, Titus observing it, and cherishing little or no
hopes on that side where his own gave ground, makes in all haste to the
other, and there charges in upon the Macedonians; who, in consequence
of the inequality and roughness of the ground, could not keep their
phalanx entire, nor line their ranks to any great depth, (which is the
great point of their strength,) but were forced to fight man for man
under heavy and unwieldy armor. For the Macedonian phalanx is like some
single powerful animal, irresistible so long as it is embodied into
one, and keeps its order, shield touching shield, all as in a piece;
but if it be once broken, not only is the joint-force lost, but the
individual soldiers also who composed it; lose each one his own single
strength, because of the nature of their armor; and because each of
them is strong, rather, as he makes a part of the whole, than in
himself. When these were routed, some gave chase to the flyers, others
charged the flanks of those Macedonians who were still fighting, so
that the conquering wing, also, was quickly disordered, took to flight,
and threw down its arms. There were then slain no less than eight
thousand, and about five thousand were taken prisoners; and the
Aetolians were blamed as having been the main occasion that Philip
himself got safe off. For whilst the Romans were in pursuit, they fell
to ravaging and plundering the camp, and did it so completely, that
when the others returned, they found no booty in it.
This bred at first hard words, quarrels, and misunderstandings betwixt
them. But, afterwards, they galled Titus more, by ascribing the victory
to themselves, and prepossessing the Greeks with reports to that
effect; insomuch that poets, and people in general in the songs that
were sung or written in honor of the action, still ranked the Aetolians
foremost. One of the pieces most current was the following epigram: --
Naked and tombless see, O passer-by,
The thirty thousand men of Thessaly,
Slain by the Aetolians and the Latin band,
That came with Titus from Italia's land:
Alas for mighty Macedon! that day,
Swift as a roe, king Philip fled away.
This was composed by Alcaeus in mockery of Philip, exaggerating the
number of the slain. However, being everywhere repeated, and by almost
everybody, Titus was more nettled at it than Philip. The latter merely
retorted upon Alcaeus with some elegiac verses of his own: --
Naked and leafless see, O passer-by,
The cross that shall Alcaeus crucify.
But such little matters extremely fretted Titus, who was ambitious of a
reputation among the Greeks; and he, therefore, acted in all
after-occurrences by himself, paying but very slight regard to the
Aetolians. This offended them in their turn; and when Titus listened to
terms of accommodation, and admitted an embassy upon the proffers of
the Macedonian king, the Aetolians made it their business to publish
through all the cities of Greece, that this was the conclusion of all;
that he was selling Philip a peace, at a time when it was in his hand
to destroy the very roots of the war, and to overthrow the power which
had first inflicted servitude upon Greece. But whilst with these and
the like rumors, the Aetolians labored to shake the Roman confederates,
Philip, making overtures of submission of himself and his kingdom to
the discretion of Titus and the Romans, puts an end to those
jealousies, as Titus by accepting them, did to the war. For he
reinstated Philip in his kingdom of Macedon, but made it a condition
that he should quit Greece, and that he should pay one thousand
talents; he took from him also, all his shipping, save ten vessels; and
sent away Demetrius, one of his sons, hostage to Rome; improving his
opportunity to the best advantage, and taking wise precautions for the
future. For Hannibal the African, a professed enemy to the Roman name,
an exile from his own country, and not long since arrived at king
Antiochus's court, was already stimulating that prince, not to be
wanting to the good fortune that had been hitherto so propitious to his
affairs; the magnitude of his successes having gained him the surname
of the Great. He had begun to level his aim at universal monarchy, but
above all he was eager to measure himself with the Romans. Had not,
therefore, Titus upon a principle of prudence and foresight, lent all
ear to peace, and had Antiochus found the Romans still at war in Greece
with Philip, and had these two, the most powerful and warlike princes
of that age, confederated for their common interests against the Roman
state, Rome might once more have run no less a risk, and been reduced
to no less extremities than she had experienced under Hannibal. But
now, Titus opportunely introducing this peace between the wars,
dispatching the present danger before the new one had arrived, at once
disappointed Antiochus of his first hopes, and Philip of his last.
When the ten commissioners, delegated to Titus from the senate; advised
him to restore the rest of Greece to their liberty, but that Corinth,
Chalcis, and Demetrias should be kept garrisoned for security against
Antiochus; the Aetolians, on this, breaking out into loud accusations,
agitated all the cities, calling upon Titus to strike off the shackles
of Greece, (so Philip used to term those three cities,) and asking the
Greeks, whether it were not matter of much consolation to them, that,
though their chains weighed heavier, yet they were now smoother and
better polished than formerly, and whether Titus were not deservedly
admired by them as their benefactor, who had unshackled the feet of
Greece, and tied her up by the neck? Titus, vexed and angry at this,
made it his request to the senate, and at last prevailed in it, that
the garrisons in these cities should be dismissed, that so the Greeks
might be no longer debtors to him for a partial, but for an entire,
favor. It was now the time of the celebration of the Isthmian games;
and the seats around the racecourse were crowded with an unusual
multitude of spectators; Greece, after long wars, having regained not
only peace, but hopes of liberty, and being able once more to keep
holiday in safety. A trumpet sounded to command silence; and the crier,
stepping forth amidst the spectators, made proclamation, that the Roman
senate, and Titus Quintius, the proconsular general, having vanquished
king Philip and the Macedonians, restored the Corinthians, Locrians,
Phocians, Euboeans, Achaeans of Phthiotis, Magnetians, Thessalians, and
Perrhaebians to their own lands, laws, and liberties; remitting all
impositions upon them, and withdrawing all garrisons from their cities.
At first, many heard not at all, and others not distinctly, what was
said; but there was a confused and uncertain stir among the assembled
people, some wondering, some asking, some calling out to have it
proclaimed again. When, therefore, fresh silence was made, the crier
raising his voice, succeeded in making himself generally heard; and
recited the decree again. A shout of joy followed it, so loud that it
was heard as far as the sea. The whole assembly rose and stood up;
there was no further thought of the entertainment; all were only eager
to leap up and salute and address their thanks to the deliverer and
champion of Greece. What we often hear alleged, in proof of the force
of human voices, was actually verified upon this occasion. Crows that
were accidentally flying over the course, fell down dead into it. The
disruption of the air must be the cause of it; for the voices being
numerous, and the acclamation violent, the air breaks with it, and can
no longer give support to the birds; but lets them tumble, like one
that should attempt to walk upon a vacuum; unless we should rather
imagine them to fall and die, shot with the noise as with a dart. It is
possible, too, that there may be a circular agitation of the air,
which, like marine whirlpools, may have a violent direction of this
sort given to it from the excess of its fluctuation.
But for Titus, the sports being now quite at an end, so beset was he on
every side, and by such multitudes, that had he not, foreseeing the
probable throng and concourse of the people, timely withdrawn, he would
scarce, it is thought, have ever got clear of them. When they had tired
themselves with acclamations all about his pavilion, and night was now
come, wherever friends or fellow-citizens met, they joyfully saluted
and embraced each other, and went home to feast and carouse together.
And there, no doubt, redoubling their joy, they began to recollect and
talk of the state of Greece, what wars she had incurred in defense of
her liberty, and yet was never perhaps mistress of a more settled or
grateful one that this which other men's labors had won for her: almost
without one drop of blood, or one citizen's loss to be mourned for, she
had this day had put into her hands the most glorious of rewards, and
best worth the contending for. Courage and wisdom are, indeed, rarities
amongst men, but of all that is good, a just man it would seem is the
most scarce. Such as Agesilaus, Lysander, Nicias, and Alcibiades, knew
how to play the general's part, how to manage a war, how to bring off
their men victorious by land and sea; but how to employ that success to
generous and honest purposes, they had not known. For should a man
except the achievement at Marathon, the sea-fight at Salamis, the
engagements at Plataea and Thermopylae, Cimon's exploits at Eurymedon,
and on the coasts of Cyprus, Greece fought all her battles against, and
to enslave, herself; she erected all her trophies to her own shame and
misery, and was brought to ruin and desolation almost wholly by the
guilt and ambition of her great men. A foreign people, appearing just
to retain some embers, as it were, some faint remainders of a common
character derived to them from their ancient sires, a nation from whom
it was a mere wonder that Greece should reap any benefit by word or
thought, these are they who have retrieved Greece from her severest
dangers and distresses, have rescued her out of the hands of insulting
lords and tyrants, and reinstated her in her former liberties.
Thus they entertained their tongues and thoughts; whilst Titus by his
actions made good what had been proclaimed. For he immediately
dispatched away Lentulus to Asia, to set the Bargylians free, Titillius
to Thrace, to see the garrisons of Philip removed out of the towns and
islands there, while Publius Villius set sail, in order to treat with
Antiochus about the freedom of the Greeks under him. Titus himself
passed on to Chalcis, and sailing thence to Magnesia, dismantled the
garrisons there, and surrendered the government into the people's
hands. Shortly after, he was appointed at Argos to preside in the
Nemean games, and did his part in the management of that solemnity
singularly well; and made a second publication there by the crier, of
liberty to the Greeks; and, visiting all the cities, he exhorted them
to the practice of obedience to law, of constant justice, and unity,
and friendship one towards another. He suppressed their factions,
brought home their political exiles; and, in short, his conquest over
the Macedonians did not seem to give him a more lively pleasure, than
to find himself prevalent in reconciling Greeks with Greeks; so that
their liberty seemed now the least part of the kindness he conferred
upon them.
The story goes, that when Lycurgus the orator had rescued Xenocrates
the philosopher from the collectors who were hurrying him away to
prison for non-payment of the alien tax, and had them punished for the
license they had been guilty of, Xenocrates afterwards meeting the
children of Lycurgus, "My sons," said he, "I am nobly repaying your
father for his kindness; he has the praises of the whole people in
return for it." But the returns which attended Titus Quintius and the
Romans, for their beneficence to the Greeks, terminated not in empty
praises only; for these proceedings gained them, deservedly, credit and
confidence, and thereby power, among all nations, for many not only
admitted the Roman commanders, but even sent and entreated to be under
their protection; neither was this done by popular governments alone,
or by single cities; but kings oppressed by kings, cast themselves into
these protecting hands. Insomuch that in a very short time (though
perchance not without divine influence in it) all the world did homage
to them. Titus himself thought more highly of his liberation of Greece
than of any other of his actions, as appears by the inscription with
which he dedicated some silver targets, together with his own shield,
to Apollo at Delphi: --
Ye Spartan Tyndarids, twin sons of Jove,
Who in swift horsemanship have placed your love,
Titus, of great Aeneas' race, leaves this
In honor of the liberty of Greece.
He offered also to Apollo a golden crown, with this inscription: --
This golden crown upon thy locks divine,
O blest Latona's son, was set to shine
By the great captain of the Aenean name.
O Phoebus, grant the noble Titus fame!
The same event has twice occurred to the Greeks in the city of Corinth.
Titus, then, and Nero again in our days, both at Corinth, and both
alike at the celebration of the Isthmian games, permitted the Greeks to
enjoy their own laws and liberty. The former (as has been said)
proclaimed it by the crier; but Nero did it in the public meeting place
from the tribunal, in a speech which he himself made to the people.
This, however, was long after.
Titus now engaged in a most gallant and just war upon Nabis, that most
profligate and lawless tyrant of the Lacedaemonians, but in the end
disappointed the expectations of the Greeks. For when he had an
opportunity of taking him, he purposely let it slip, and struck up a
peace with him, leaving Sparta to bewail an unworthy slavery; whether
it were that he feared, if the war should be protracted, Rome would
send a new general who might rob him of the glory of it; or that
emulation and envy of Philopoemen (who had signalized himself among the
Greeks upon all other occasions, but in that war especially had done
wonders both for matter of courage and counsel, and whom the Achaeans
magnified in their theaters, and put into the same balance of glory
with Titus,) touched him to the quick; and that he scorned that an
ordinary Arcadian, who had but commanded in a few re- encounters upon
the confines of his native district, should be spoken of in terms of
equality with a Roman consul, waging war as the protector of Greece in
general. But, besides, Titus was not without an apology too for what he
did, namely, that he put an end to the war only when he foresaw that
the tyrant's destruction must have been attended with the ruin of the
other Spartans.
The Achaeans, by various decrees, did much to show Titus honor: none of
these returns, however, seemed to come up to the height of the actions
that merited them, unless it were one present they made him, which
affected and pleased him beyond all the rest; which was this. The
Romans, who in the war with Hannibal had the misfortune to be taken
captives, were sold about here and there, and dispersed into slavery;
twelve hundred in number were at that time in Greece. The reverse of
their fortune always rendered them objects of compassion; but more
particularly, as well might be, when they now met, some with their
sons, some with their brothers, others with their acquaintance; slaves
with their free, and captives with their victorious countrymen. Titus,
though deeply concerned on their behalf, yet took none of them from
their masters by constraint. But the Achaeans, redeeming them at five
pounds a man, brought them altogether into one place, and made a
present of them to him, as he was just going on shipboard, so that he
now sailed away with the fullest satisfaction; his generous actions
having procured him as generous returns, worthy a brave man and a lover
of his country. This seemed the most glorious part of all his
succeeding triumph; for these redeemed Romans (as it is the custom for
slaves, upon their manumission, to shave their heads and wear
felt-hats) followed in that habit in the procession. To add to the
glory of this show, there were the Grecian helmets, the Macedonian
targets and long spears, borne with the rest of the spoils in public
view, besides vast sums of money; Tuditanus says, 3,713 pounds weight
of massy gold, 43,270 of silver, 14,514 pieces of coined gold, called
Philippics, which was all over and above the thousand talents which
Philip owed, and which the Romans were afterwards prevailed upon,
chiefly by the mediation of Titus, to remit to Philip, declaring him
their ally and confederate, and sending him home his hostage son.
Shortly after, Antiochus entered Greece with a numerous fleet, and a
powerful army, soliciting the cities there to sedition and revolt;
abetted in all and seconded by the Aetolians, who for this long time
had borne a grudge and secret enmity to the Romans, and now suggested
to him, by way of a cause and pretext of war, that he came to bring the
Greeks liberty. When, indeed, they never wanted it less, as they were
free already, but, in lack of really honorable grounds, he was
instructed to employ these lofty professions. The Romans, in the
interim, in great apprehension of revolutions and revolt in Greece, and
of his great reputation for military strength, dispatched the consul
Manius Acilius to take the charge of the war, and Titus, as his
lieutenant, out of regard to the Greeks; some of whom he no sooner saw,
but he confirmed them in the Roman interests; others, who began to
falter, like a timely physician, by the use of the strong remedy of
their own affection for himself, he was able to arrest in the first
stage of the disease, before they had committed themselves to any great
error. Some few there were whom the Aetolians were beforehand with, and
had so wholly perverted that he could do no good with them; yet these,
however angry and exasperated before, he saved and protected when the
engagement was over. For Antiochus, receiving a defeat at Thermopylae,
not only fled the field, but hoisted sail instantly for Asia. Manius,
the consul, himself invaded and besieged a part of the Aetolians, while
king Philip had permission to reduce the rest. Thus while, for
instance, the Dolopes and Magnetians on the one hand, the Athamanes and
Aperantians on the other, were ransacked by the Macedonians, and while
Manius laid Heraclea waste, and besieged Naupactus, then in the
Aetolians' hands, Titus, still with a compassionate care for Greece,
sailed across from Peloponnesus to the consul; and began first of all
to chide him, that the victory should be owing alone to his arms, and
yet he should suffer Philip to bear away the prize and profit of the
war, and sit wreaking his anger upon a single town, whilst the
Macedonians overran several nations and kingdoms. But as he happened to
stand then in view of the besieged, they no sooner spied him out, but
they call to him from their wall, they stretch forth their hands, they
supplicate and entreat him. At the time, he said not a word more, but
turning about with tears in his eyes, went his way. Some little while
after, he discussed the matter so effectually with Manius, that he won
him over from his passion, and prevailed with him to give a truce and
time to the Aetolians, to send deputies to Rome to petition the senate
for terms of moderation.
But the hardest task, and that which put Titus to the greatest
difficulty was, to entreat with Manius for the Chalcidians, who had
incensed him on account of a marriage which Antiochus had made in their
city, even whilst the war was on foot; a match noways suitable in point
of age, he an elderly man being enamored with a mere girl; and as
little proper for the time, in the midst of a war. She was the daughter
of one Cleoptolemus, and is said to have been wonderfully beautiful.
The Chalcidians, in consequence, embraced the king's interests with
zeal and alacrity, and let him make their city the basis of his
operations during the war. Thither, therefore, he made with all speed,
when he was routed, and fled; and reaching Chalcis, without making any
stay, taking this young lady, and his money and friends with him, away
he sails to Asia. And now Manius's indignation carrying him in all
haste against the Chalcidians, Titus hurried after him, endeavoring to
pacify and to entreat him; and, at length, succeeded both with him and
the chief men among the Romans.
The Chalcidians, thus owing their lives to Titus, dedicated to him all
the best and most magnificent of their sacred buildings, inscriptions
upon which may be seen to run thus to this day: THE PEOPLE DEDICATE
THIS GYMNASIUM TO TITUS AND TO HERCULES; so again: THE PEOPLE
CONSECRATE THE DELPHINIUM TO TITUS AND TO HERCULES; and what is yet
more, even in our time, a priest of Titus was formally elected and
declared; and after sacrifice and libation, they sing a set song, much
of which for the length of it we omit, but shall transcribe the closing
verses: --
The Roman Faith, whose aid of yore,
Our vows were offered to implore,
We worship now and evermore.
To Rome, to Titus, and to Jove,
O maidens, in the dances move.
Dances and Io-Paeans too
Unto the Roman Faith are due,
O Savior Titus, and to you.
Other parts of Greece also heaped honors upon him suitable to his
merits, and what made all those honors true and real, was the
surprising good-will and affection which his moderation and equity of
character had won for him. For if he were at any time at variance with
anybody in matters of business, or out of emulation and rivalry, (as
with Philopoemen, and again with Diophanes, when in office as General
of the Achaeans,) his resentment never went far, nor did it ever break
out into acts; but when it had vented itself in some citizen-like
freedom of speech, there was an end of it. In fine, nobody charged
malice or bitterness upon his nature, though many imputed hastiness and
levity to it; in general, he was the most attractive and agreeable of
companions, and could speak too, both with grace, and forcibly. For
instance, to divert the Achaeans from the conquest of the isle of
Zacynthus, "If," said he, "they put their head too far out of
Peloponnesus, they may hazard themselves as much as a tortoise out of
its shell." Again, when he and Philip first met to treat of a cessation
and peace, the latter complaining that Titus came with a mighty train,
while he himself came alone and unattended, "Yes," replied Titus, "you
have left yourself alone by killing your friends." At another time,
Dinocrates the Messenian, having drunk too much at a merry-meeting in
Rome, danced there in woman's clothes, and the next day addressed
himself to Titus for assistance in his design to get Messene out of the
hands of the Achaeans. "This," replied Titus, "will be matter for
consideration; my only surprise is that a man with such purposes on his
hands should be able to dance and sing at drinking parties." When,
again, the ambassadors of Antiochus were recounting to those of Achaea,
the various multitudes composing their royal master's forces, and ran
over a long catalog of hard names, "I supped once," said Titus, "with a
friend, and could not forbear expostulating with him at the number of
dishes he had provided, and said I wondered where he had furnished
himself with such a variety; 'Sir,' replied he, 'to confess the truth,
it is all hog's flesh differently cooked.' And so, men of Achaea, when
you are told of Antiochus's lancers, and pikemen, and foot guards, I
advise you not to be surprised; since in fact they are all Syrians
differently armed."
After his achievements in Greece, and when the war with Antiochus was
at an end, Titus was created censor; the most eminent office, and, in a
manner, the highest preferment in the commonwealth. The son of
Marcellus, who had been five times consul, was his colleague. These, by
virtue of their office, cashiered four senators of no great
distinction, and admitted to the roll of citizens all freeborn
residents. But this was more by constraint than their own choice; for
Terentius Culeo, then tribune of the people, to spite the nobility,
spurred on the populace to order it to be done. At this time, the two
greatest and most eminent persons in the city, Africanus Scipio and
Marcus Cato, were at variance. Titus named Scipio first member of the
senate; and involved himself in a quarrel with Cato, on the following
unhappy occasion. Titus had a brother, Lucius Flamininus, very unlike
him in all points of character, and, in particular, low and dissolute
in his pleasures, and flagrantly regardless of all decency. He kept as
a companion a boy whom he used to carry about with him, not only when
he had troops under his charge, but even when the care of a province
was committed to him. One day at a drinking-bout, when the youngster
was wantoning with Lucius, "I love you, Sir, so dearly," said he,
"that, preferring your satisfaction to my own, I came away without
seeing the gladiators, though I have never seen a man killed in my
life." Lucius, delighted with what the boy said, answered, "Let not
that trouble you; I can satisfy that longing," and with that, orders a
condemned man to be fetched out of the prison, and the executioner to
be sent for, and commands him to strike off the man's head, before they
rose from table. Valerius Antias only so far varies the story as to
make it woman for whom he did it. But Livy says that in Cato's own
speech the statement is, that a Gaulish deserter coming with his wife
and children to the door, Lucius took him into the banqueting-room, and
killed him with his own hand, to gratify his paramour. Cato, it is
probable, might say this by way of aggravation of the crime; but that
the slain was no such fugitive, but a prisoner, and one condemned to
die, not to mention other authorities, Cicero tells us in his treatise
On Old Age, where he brings in Cato, himself, giving that account of
the matter.
However, this is certain; Cato during his censorship, made a severe
scrutiny into the senators' lives in order to the purging and reforming
the house, and expelled Lucius, though he had been once consul before,
and though the punishment seemed to reflect dishonor on his brother
also. Both of them presented themselves to the assembly of the people
in a suppliant manner, not without tears in their eyes, requesting that
Cato might show the reason and cause of his fixing such a stain upon so
honorable a family. The citizens thought it a modest and moderate
request. Cato, however, without any retraction or reserve, at once came
forward, and standing up with his colleague interrogated Titus, as to
whether he knew the story of the supper. Titus answering in the
negative, Cato related it, and challenged Lucius to a formal denial of
it. Lucius made no reply, whereupon the people adjudged the disgrace
just and suitable, and waited upon Cato home from the tribunal in great
state. But Titus still so deeply resented his brother's degradation,
that he allied himself with those who had long borne a grudge against
Cato; and winning over a major part of the senate, he revoked and made
void all the contracts, leases, and bargains made by Cato, relating to
the public revenues, and also got numerous actions and accusations
brought against him; carrying on against a lawful magistrate and
excellent citizen, for the sake of one who was indeed his relation, but
was unworthy to be so, and had but gotten his deserts, a course of
bitter and violent attacks, which it would be hard to say were either
right or patriotic. Afterwards, however, at a public spectacle in the
theater, at which the senators appeared as usual, sitting, as became
their rank, in the first seats, when Lucius was spied at the lower end,
seated in a mean, dishonorable place, it made a great impression upon
the people, nor could they endure the sight, but kept calling out to
him to move, until he did move, and went in among those of consular
dignity, who received him into their seats.
This natural ambition of Titus was well enough looked upon by the
world, whilst the wars we have given a relation of afforded competent
fuel to feed it; as, for instance, when after the expiration of his
consulship, he had a command as military tribune, which nobody pressed
upon him. But being now out of all employ in the government, and
advanced in years, he showed his defects more plainly; allowing
himself, in this inactive remainder of life, to be carried away with
the passion for reputation, as uncontrollably as any youth. Some such
transport, it is thought, betrayed him into a proceeding against
Hannibal, which lost him the regard of many. For Hannibal, having fled
his country, first took sanctuary with Antiochus; but he having been
glad to obtain a peace, after the battle in Phrygia, Hannibal was put
to shift for himself, by a second flight, and, after wandering through
many countries, fixed at length in Bithynia, proffering his service to
king Prusias. Every one at Rome knew where he was, but looked upon him,
now in his weakness and old age, with no sort of apprehension, as one
whom fortune had quite cast off. Titus, however, coming thither as
ambassador, though he was sent from the senate to Prusias upon another
errand, yet, seeing Hannibal resident there, it stirred up resentment
in him to find that he was yet alive. And though Prusias used much
intercession and entreaties in favor of him, as his suppliant and
familiar friend, Titus was not to be entreated. There was an ancient
oracle, it seems, which prophesied thus of Hannibal's end: --
Libyssan shall Hannibal enclose.
He interpreted this to be meant of the African Libya, and that he
should be buried in Carthage; as if he might yet expect to return and
end his life there. But there is a sandy place in Bithynia, bordering
on the sea, and near it a little village called Libyssa. It was
Hannibal's chance to be staying here, and having ever from the
beginning had a distrust of the easiness and cowardice of Prusias, and
a fear of the Romans, he had, long before, ordered seven underground
passages to be dug from his house, leading from his lodging, and
running a considerable distance in various opposite directions, all
undiscernible from without. As soon, therefore, as he heard what Titus
had ordered, he attempted to make his escape through these mines; but
finding them beset with the king's guards, he resolved upon making away
with himself. Some say that wrapping his upper garment about his neck,
he commanded his servant to set his knee against his back, and not to
cease twisting and pulling it, till he had completely strangled him.
Others say, he drank bull's blood, after the example of Themistocles
and Midas. Livy writes that he had poison in readiness, which he mixed
for the purpose, and that taking the cup into his hand, "Let us ease,"
said he, "the Romans of their continual dread and care, who think it
long and tedious to await the death of a hated old man. Yet Titus will
not bear away a glorious victory, nor one worthy of those ancestors who
sent to caution Pyrrhus, an enemy, and a conqueror too, against the
poison prepared for him by traitors."
Thus venous are the reports of Hannibal's death; but when the news of
it came to the senators' ears, some felt indignation against Titus for
it, blaming as well his officiousness as his cruelty; who, when there
was nothing to urge it, out of mere appetite for distinction, to have
it said that he had caused Hannibal's death, sent him to his grave when
he was now like a bird that in its old age has lost its feathers, and
incapable of flying is let alone to live tamely without molestation.
They began also now to regard with increased admiration the clemency
and magnanimity of Scipio Africanus, and called to mind how he, when he
had vanquished in Africa the till then invincible and terrible
Hannibal, neither banished him his country, nor exacted of his
countrymen that they should give him up. At a parley just before they
joined battle, Scipio gave him his hand, and in the peace made after
it, he put no hard article upon him, nor insulted over his fallen
fortune. It is told, too, that they had another meeting afterwards, at
Ephesus, and that when Hannibal, as they were walking together, took
the upper hand, Africanus let it pass, and walked on without the least
notice of it; and that then they began to talk of generals, and
Hannibal affirmed that Alexander was the greatest commander the world
had seen, next to him Pyrrhus, and the third was himself; Africanus,
with a smile, asked, "What would you have said, if I had not defeated
you?" "I would not then, Scipio," he replied, "have made myself the
third, but the first commander." Such conduct was much admired in
Scipio, and that of Titus, who had as it were insulted the dead whom
another had slain, was no less generally found fault with. Not but that
there were some who applauded the action, looking upon a living
Hannibal as a fire, which only wanted blowing to become a flame. For
when he was in the prime and flower of his age, it was not his body,
nor his hand, that had been so formidable, but his consummate skill and
experience, together with his innate malice and rancor against the
Roman name, things which do not impair with age. For the temper and
bent of the soul remains constant, while fortune continually varies;
and some new hope might easily rouse to a fresh attempt those whose
hatred made them enemies to the last. And what really happened
afterwards does to a certain extent tend yet further to the exculpation
of Titus. Aristonicus, of the family of a common musician, upon the
reputation of being the son of Eumenes, filled all Asia with tumults
and rebellion. Then again, Mithridates, after his defeats by Sylla and
Fimbria, and vast slaughter, as well among his prime officers as common
soldiers, made head again, and proved a most dangerous enemy, against
Lucullus, both by sea and land. Hannibal was never reduced to so
contemptible a state as Caius Marius; he had the friendship of a king,
and the free exercise of his faculties, employment and charge in the
navy, and over the horse and foot, of Prusias; whereas those who but
now were laughing to hear of Marius wandering about Africa, destitute
and begging, in no long time after were seen entreating his mercy in
Rome, with his rods at their backs, and his axes at their necks. So
true it is, that looking to the possible future, we can call nothing
that we see either great or small; as nothing puts an end to the
mutability and vicissitude of things, but what puts an end to their
very being. Some authors accordingly tell us, that Titus did not do
this of his own head, but that he was joined in commission with Lucius
Scipio, and that the whole object of the embassy was, to effect
Hannibal's death. And now, as we find no further mention in history of
anything done by Titus, either in war or in the administration of the
government, but simply that he died in peace; it is time to look upon
him as he stands in comparison with Philopoemen.
COMPARISON OF PHILOPOEMEN WITH FLAMININUS
First, then, as for the greatness of the benefits which Titus conferred
on Greece, neither Philopoemen, nor many braver men than he, can make
good the parallel. They were Greeks fighting against Greeks, but Titus,
a stranger to Greece, fought for her. And at the very time when
Philopoemen went over into Crete, destitute of means to succor his
besieged countrymen, Titus, by a defeat given to Philip in the heart of
Greece, set them and their cities free. Again, if we examine the
battles they fought, Philopoemen, whilst he was the Achaeans' general,
slew more Greeks than Titus, in aiding the Greeks, slew Macedonians. As
to their failings, ambition was Titus's weak side, and obstinacy
Philopoemen's; in the former, anger was easily kindled, in the latter,
it was as hardly quenched. Titus reserved to Philip the royal dignity;
he pardoned the Aetolians, and stood their friend; but Philopoemen,
exasperated against his country, deprived it of its supremacy over the
adjacent villages. Titus was ever constant to those he had once
befriended, the other, upon any offense, as prone to cancel kindnesses.
He who had once been a benefactor to the Lacedaemonians, afterwards
laid their walls level with the ground, wasted their country, and in
the end changed and destroyed the whole frame of their government. He
seems, in truth, to have prodigalled away his own life, through passion
and perverseness; for he fell upon the Messenians, not with that
conduct and caution that characterized the movements of Titus, but with
unnecessary and unreasonable haste.
The many battles he fought, and the many trophies he won, may make us
ascribe to Philopoemen the more thorough knowledge of war. Titus
decided the matter betwixt Philip and himself in two engagements; but
Philopoemen came off victorious in ten thousand encounters, to all
which fortune had scarcely any presence, so much were they owing to his
skill. Besides, Titus got his renown, assisted by the power of a
flourishing Rome; the other flourished under a declined Greece, so that
his successes may be accounted his own; in Titus's glory Rome claims a
share. The one had brave men under him, the other made his brave, by
being over them. And though Philopoemen was unfortunate certainly, in
always being opposed to his countrymen, yet this misfortune is at the
same time a proof of his merit. Where the circumstances are the same,
superior success can only be ascribed to superior merit. And he had,
indeed, to do with the two most warlike nations of all Greece, the
Cretans on the one hand, and the Lacedaemonians on the other, and he
mastered the craftiest of them by art and the bravest of them by valor.
It may also be said that Titus, having his men armed and disciplined to
his hand, had in a manner his victories made for him; whereas
Philopoemen was forced to introduce a discipline and tactics of his
own, and to new-mold and model his soldiers; so that what is of
greatest import towards insuring a victory was in his case his own
creation, while the other had it ready provided for his benefit.
Philopoemen effected many gallant things with his own hand, but Titus
none; so much so that one Archedemus, an Aetolian, made it a jest
against him that while he, the Aetolian, was running with his drawn
sword, where he saw the Macedonians drawn up closest and fighting
hardest, Titus was standing still, and with hands stretched out to
heaven, praying to the gods for aid.
It is true, Titus acquitted himself admirably, both as a governor, and
as an ambassador; but Philopoemen was no less serviceable and useful to
the Achaeans in the capacity of a private man, than in that of a
commander. He was a private citizen when he restored the Messenians to
their liberty, and delivered their city from Nabis; he was also a
private citizen when he rescued the Lacedaemonians, and shut the gates
of Sparta against the General Diophanes, and Titus. He had a nature so
truly formed for command that he could govern even the laws themselves
for the public good; he did not need to wait for the formality of being
elected into command by the governed, but employed their service, if
occasion required, at his own discretion; judging that he who
understood their real interests, was more truly their supreme
magistrate, than he whom they had elected to the office. The equity,
clemency, and humanity of Titus towards the Greeks, display a great and
generous nature; but the actions of Philopoemen, full of courage, and
forward to assert his country's liberty against the Romans, have
something yet greater and nobler in them. For it is not as hard a task
to gratify the indigent and distressed, as to bear up against, and to
dare to incur the anger of the powerful. To conclude, since it does not
appear to be easy, by any review or discussion, to establish the true
difference of their merits, and decide to which a preference is due,
will it be an unfair award in the case, if we let the Greek bear away
the crown for military conduct and warlike skill, and the Roman for
justice and clemency?
PYRRHUS
Of the Thesprotians and Molossians after the great inundation, the
first king, according to some historians, was Phaethon, one of those
who came into Epirus with Pelasgus. Others tell us that Deucalion and
Pyrrha, having set up the worship of Jupiter at Dodona, settled there
among the Molossians. In after time, Neoptolemus, Achilles's son,
planting a colony, possessed these parts himself, and left a succession
of kings, who, after him, were named Pyrrhidae; as he in his youth was
called Pyrrhus, and of his legitimate children, one born of Lanassa,
daughter of Cleodaeus, Hyllus's son, had also that name. From him,
Achilles came to have divine honors in Epirus, under the name of
Aspetus, in the language of the country. After these first kings, those
of the following intervening times becoming barbarous, and
insignificant both in their power and their lives, Tharrhypas is said
to have been the first, who by introducing Greek manners and learning,
and humane laws into his cities, left any fame of himself. Alcetas was
the son of Tharrhypas, Arybas of Alcetas, and of Arybas and Troas his
queen, Aeacides: he married Phthia, the daughter of Menon, the
Thessalian, a man of note at the time off the Lamiac war, and of
highest command in the confederate army next to Leosthenes. To Aeacides
were born of Phthia, Deidamia and Troas daughters, and Pyrrhus a son.
The Molossians, afterwards falling into factions, and expelling
Aeacides, brought in the sons of Neoptolemus, and such friends of
Aeacides as they could take were all cut off; Pyrrhus, yet an infant,
and searched for by the enemy, had been stolen away and carried off by
Androclides end Angelus; who, however, being obliged to take with them
a few servants, and women to nurse the child, were much impeded and
retarded in their flight, and when they were now overtaken, they
delivered the infant to Androcleon, Hippias, and Neander, faithful and
able young fellows, giving them in charge to make for Megara, a town of
Macedon, with all their might, while they themselves, partly by
entreaty, and partly by force, stopped the course of the pursuers till
late in the evening. At last, having hardly forced them back, they
joined those who had the care of Pyrrhus; but the sun being already
set, at the point of attaining their object they suddenly found
themselves cut off from it. For on reaching the river that runs by the
city they found it looking formidable and rough, and endeavoring to
pass over, they discovered it was not fordable; late rains having
heightened the water, and made the current violent. The darkness of the
night added to the horror of all, so that they durst not venture of
themselves to carry over the child and the women that attended it; but,
perceiving some of the country people on the other side, they desired
them to assist their passage, and showed them Pyrrhus, calling out
aloud, and importuning them. They, however, could not hear for the
noise and roaring of the water. Thus time was spent while those called
out, and the others did not understand what was said, till one
recollecting himself, stripped off a piece of bark from an oak, and
wrote on it with the tongue of a buckle, stating the necessities and
the fortunes of the child, and then rolling it about a stone, which was
made use of to give force to the motion, threw it over to the other
side, or, as some say, fastened it to the end of a javelin, and darted
it over. When the men on the other shore read what was on the bark, and
saw how time pressed, without delay they cut down some trees, and
lashing them together, came over to them. And it so fell out, that he
who first got ashore, and took Pyrrhus in his arms, was named Achilles,
the rest being helped over by others as they came to hand.
Thus being safe, and out of the reach of pursuit, they addressed
themselves to Glaucias, then king of the Illyrians, and finding him
sitting at home with his wife, they laid down the child before them.
The king began to weigh the matter, fearing Cassander, who was a mortal
enemy of Aeacides, and, being in deep consideration, said nothing for a
long time; while Pyrrhus, crawling about on the ground, gradually got
near and laid hold with his hand upon the king's robe, and so helping
himself upon his feet against the knees of Glaucias, first moved
laughter, and then pity, as a little humble, crying petitioner. Some
say he did not throw himself before Glaucias, but catching hold of an
altar of the gods, and spreading his hands about it, raised himself up
by that; and that Glaucias took the act as an omen. At present,
therefore, he gave Pyrrhus into the charge of his wife, commanding he
should be brought up with his own children; and a little after, the
enemies sending to demand him, and Cassander himself offering two
hundred talents, he would not deliver him up; but when he was twelve
years old, bringing him with an army into Epirus, made him king.
Pyrrhus in the air of his face had something more of the terrors, than
of the augustness of kingly power; he had not a regular set of upper
teeth, but in the place of them one continued bone, with small lines
marked on it, resembling the divisions of a row of teeth. It was a
general belief he could cure the spleen, by sacrificing a white cock,
and gently pressing with his right foot on the spleen of the persons as
they lay down on their backs, nor was any one so poor or inconsiderable
as not to be welcome, if he desired it, to the benefit of his touch. He
accepted the cock for the sacrifice as a reward, and was always much
pleased with the present. The large toe of that foot was said to have a
divine virtue; for after his death, the rest of the body being
consumed, this was found unhurt and untouched by the fire. But of these
things hereafter.
Being now about seventeen years old, and the government in appearance
well settled, he took a journey out of the kingdom to attend the
marriage of one of Glaucias's sons, with whom he was brought up; upon
which opportunity the Molossians again rebelling, turned out all of his
party, plundered his property, and gave themselves up to Neoptolemus.
Pyrrhus, having thus lost the kingdom, and being in want of all things,
applied to Demetrius the son of Antigonus, the husband of his sister
Deidamia, who, while she was but a child, had been in name the wife of
Alexander, son of Roxana, but their affairs afterwards proving
unfortunate, when she came to age, Demetrius married her. At the great
battle of Ipsus, where so many kings were engaged, Pyrrhus, taking part
with Demetrius, though yet but a youth, routed those that encountered
him, and highly signalized himself among all the soldiery; and
afterwards, when Demetrius's fortunes were low, he did not forsake him
then, but secured for him the cities of Greece with which he was
entrusted; and upon articles of agreement being made between Demetrius
and Ptolemy, he went over as an hostage for him into Egypt, where both
in hunting and other exercises, he gave Ptolemy an ample proof of his
courage and strength. Here observing Berenice in greatest power, and of
all Ptolemy's wives highest in esteem for virtue and understanding, he
made his court principally to her. He had a particular art of gaining
over the great to his own interest, as on the other hand he readily
overlooked such as were below him; and being also well-behaved and
temperate in his life, among all the young princes then at court, he
was thought most fit to have Antigone for his wife, one of the
daughters of Berenice by Philip, before she married Ptolemy.
After this match, advancing in honor, and Antigone being a very good
wife to him, having procured a sum of money, and raised an army, he so
ordered matters as to be sent into his kingdom of Epirus, and arrived
there to the great satisfaction of many, from their hate to
Neoptolemus, who was governing in a violent and arbitrary way. But
fearing lest Neoptolemus should enter into alliance with some
neighboring princes, he came to terms and friendship with him, agreeing
that they should share the government between them. There were people,
however, who, as time went on, secretly exasperated them, and fomented
jealousies between them. The cause chiefly moving Pyrrhus is said to
have had this beginning. It was customary for the kings to offer
sacrifice to Mars, at Passaro, a place in the Molossian country, and
that done to enter into a solemn covenant with the Epirots; they to
govern according to law, these to preserve the government as by law
established. This was performed in the presence of both kings, who were
there with their immediate friends, giving and receiving many presents;
here Gelo, one of the friends of Neoptolemus, taking Pyrrhus by the
hand, presented him with two pair of draught oxen. Myrtilus, his
cup-bearer, being then by, begged these of Pyrrhus, who not giving them
to him, but to another, Myrtilus extremely resented it, which Gelo took
notice of, and, inviting him to a banquet, (amidst drinking and other
excesses, as some relate, Myrtilus being then in the flower of his
youth,) he entered into discourse, persuading him to adhere to
Neoptolemus, and destroy Pyrrhus by poison. Myrtilus received the
design, appearing to approve and consent to it, but privately
discovered it to Pyrrhus, by whose command he recommended Alexicrates,
his chief cup-bearer, to Gelo, as a fit instrument for their design,
Pyrrhus being very desirous to have proof of the plot by several
evidences. So Gelo being deceived, Neoptolemus, who was no less
deceived, imagining the design went prosperously on, could not forbear,
but in his joy spoke of it among his friends, and once at an
entertainment at his sister Cadmea's, talked openly of it, thinking
none heard but themselves. Nor was anyone there but Phaenarete the wife
of Samon, who had the care of Neoptolemus's flocks and herds. She,
turning her face towards the wall upon a couch, seemed fast asleep, and
having heard all that passed, unsuspected, next day came to Antigone,
Pyrrhus's wife, and told her what she had heard Neoptolemus say to his
sister. On understanding which Pyrrhus for the present said little, but
on a sacrifice day, making an invitation for Neoptolemus, killed him;
being satisfied before that the great men of the Epirots were his
friends, and that they were eager for him to rid himself of
Neoptolemus, and not to content himself with a mere petty share of the
government, but to follow his own natural vocation to great designs,
and now when just ground of suspicion appeared, to anticipate
Neoptolemus by taking him off first.
In memory of Berenice and Ptolemy, he named his son by Antigone,
Ptolemy, and having built a city in the peninsula of Epirus, called it
Berenicis. From this time he began to revolve many and vast projects in
his thoughts; but his first special hope and design lay near home, and
he found means to engage himself in the Macedonian affairs under the
following pretext. Of Cassander's sons, Antipater, the eldest, killed
Thessalonica his mother, and expelled his brother Alexander, who sent
to Demetrius entreating his assistance, and also called in Pyrrhus; but
Demetrius being retarded by multitude of business, Pyrrhus, coming
first, demanded in reward of his service the districts called Tymphaea
and Parauaea in Macedon itself, and, of their new conquests, Ambracia,
Acarnania, and Amphilochia. The young prince giving way, he took
possession of these countries, and secured them with good garrisons,
and proceeded to reduce for Alexander himself other parts of the
kingdom which he gained from Antipater. Lysimachus, designing to send
aid to Antipater, was involved in much other business, but knowing
Pyrrhus would not disoblige Ptolemy, or deny him anything, sent
pretended letters to him as from Ptolemy, desiring him to give up his
expedition, upon the payment of three hundred talents to him by
Antipater. Pyrrhus, opening the letter, quickly discovered the fraud of
Lysimachus; for it had not the accustomed style of salutation, "The
father to the son, health," but "King Ptolemy to Pyrrhus, the king,
health;" and reproaching Lysimachus, he notwithstanding made a peace,
and they all met to confirm it by a solemn oath upon sacrifice. A goat,
a bull, and a ram being brought out, the ram on a sudden fell dead. The
others laughed, but Theodotus the prophet forbade Pyrrhus to swear,
declaring that Heaven by that portended the death of one of the three
kings, upon which he refused to ratify the peace.
The affairs of Alexander being now in some kind of settlement,
Demetrius arrived, contrary, as soon appeared, to the desire and indeed
not without the alarm of Alexander. After they had been a few days
together, their mutual jealousy led them to conspire against each
other; and Demetrius taking advantage of the first occasion, was
beforehand with the young king, and slew him, and proclaimed himself
king of Macedon. There had been formerly no very good understanding
between him and Pyrrhus; for besides the inroads he made into Thessaly,
the innate disease of princes, ambition of greater empire, had rendered
them formidable and suspected neighbors to each other, especially since
Deidamia's death; and both having seized Macedon, they came into
conflict for the same object, and the difference between them had the
stronger motives. Demetrius having first attacked the Aetolians and
subdued them, left Pantauchus there with a considerable army, and
marched direct against Pyrrhus, and Pyrrhus, as he thought, against
him; but by mistake of the ways they passed by one another, and
Demetrius falling into Epirus wasted the country, and Pyrrhus, meeting
with Pantauchus, prepared for an engagement. The soldiers fell to, and
there was a sharp and terrible conflict, especially where the generals
were. Pantauchus, in courage, dexterity, and strength of body, being
confessedly the best of all Demetrius's captains, and having both
resolution and high spirit, challenged Pyrrhus to fight hand to hand;
on the other side Pyrrhus, professing not to yield to any king in valor
and glory, and esteeming the fame of Achilles more truly to belong to
him for his courage than for his blood, advanced against Pantauchus
through the front of the army. First they used their lances, then came
to a close fight, and managed their swords both with art and force;
Pyrrhus receiving one wound, but returning two for it, one in the
thigh, the other near the neck, repulsed and overthrew Pantauchus, but
did not kill him outright, as he was rescued by his friends. But the
Epirots exulting in the victory of their king, and admiring his
courage, forced through and cut in pieces the phalanx of the
Macedonians, and pursuing those that fled, killed many, and took five
thousand prisoners.
This fight did not so much exasperate the Macedonians with anger for
their loss, or with hatred to Pyrrhus, as it caused esteem, and
admiration of his valor, and great discourse of him among those that
saw what he did, and were engaged against him in the action. They
thought his countenance, his swiftness, and his motions expressed those
of the great Alexander, and that they beheld here an image and
resemblance of his rapidity and strength in fight; other kings merely
by their purple and their guards, by the formal bending of their necks,
and lofty tone of speech, Pyrrhus only by arms, and in action,
represented Alexander. Of his knowledge of military tactics and the art
of a general, and his great ability that way, we have the best
information from the commentaries he left behind him. Antigonus, also,
we are told, being asked who was the greatest soldier, said, "Pyrrhus,
if he lives to be old," referring only to those of his own time; but
Hannibal of all great commanders esteemed Pyrrhus for skill and conduct
the first, Scipio the second, and himself the third, as is related in
the life of Scipio. In a word, he seemed ever to make this all his
thought and philosophy, as the most kingly part of learning; other
curiosities he held in no account. He is reported, when asked at a
feast whether he thought Python or Caphisias the best musician, to have
said, Polysperchon was the best soldier, as though it became a king to
examine and understand only such things. Towards his familiars he was
mild, and not easily incensed; zealous, and even vehement in returning
kindnesses. Thus when Aeropus was dead, he could not bear it with
moderation, saying, he indeed had suffered what was common to human
nature, but condemning and blaming himself, that by puttings off and
delays he had not returned his kindness in time. For our debts may be
satisfied to the creditor's heirs, but not to have made the
acknowledgment of received favors, while they to whom it is due can be
sensible of it, afflicts a good and a worthy nature. Some thinking it
fit that Pyrrhus should banish a certain ill-tongued fellow in
Ambracia, who had spoken very indecently of him, "Let him rather," said
he, "speak against us here to a few, than rambling about to a great
many." And others who in their wine had made redactions upon him, being
afterward questioned for it, and asked by him whether they had said
such words, on one of the young fellows answering, "Yes, all that,
king; and should have said more if we had had more wine;" he laughed
and discharged them. After Antigone's death, he married several wives
to enlarge his interest and power. He had the daughter of Autoleon,
king of the Paeonians, Bircenna, Bardyllis the Illyrian's daughter,
Lanassa, daughter of Agathocles the Syracusan, who brought with her in
dower the city of Corcyra which had been taken by Agathocles. By
Antigone he had Ptolemy, Alexander by Lanassa, and Helenus, his
youngest son, by Bircenna; he brought them up all in arms, hot and
eager youths, and by him sharpened and whetted to war from their very
infancy. It is said, when one of them, while yet a child, asked him to
which he would leave the kingdom, he replied, to him that had the
sharpest sword, which indeed was much like that tragical curse of
Oedipus to his sons:
Not by the lot decide. But with the sword the heritage divide.
So unsocial and wild-beast-like is the nature of ambition and cupidity.
After this battle Pyrrhus, returning gloriously home, enjoyed his fame
and reputation, and being called "Eagle" by the Epirots, "By you," said
he, "I am an eagle; for how should I not be such, while I have your
arms as wings to sustain me?" A little after, having intelligence that
Demetrius was dangerously sick, he entered on a sudden into Macedonia,
intending only an incursion, and to harass the country; but was very
near seizing upon all, and taking the kingdom without a blow. He
marched as far as Edessa unresisted, great numbers deserting, and
coming in to him. This danger excited Demetrius beyond his strength,
and his friends and commanders in a short time got a considerable army
together, and with all their forces briskly attacked Pyrrhus, who,
coming only to pillage, would not stand a fight but retreating lost
part of his army, as he went off, by the close pursuit of the
Macedonians. Demetrius, however, although he had easily and quickly
forced Pyrrhus out of the country, yet did not slight him, but having
resolved upon great designs, and to recover his father's kingdom with
an army of one hundred thousand men, and a fleet of five hundred ships,
would neither embroil himself with Pyrrhus, nor leave the Macedonians
so active and troublesome a neighbor; and since he had no leisure to
continue the war with him, he was willing to treat and conclude a
peace, and to turn his forces upon the other kings. Articles being
agreed upon, the designs of Demetrius quickly discovered themselves by
the greatness of his preparation. And the other kings, being alarmed,
sent to Pyrrhus ambassadors and letters, expressing their wonder that
he should choose to let his own opportunity pass by, and wait till
Demetrius could use his; and whereas he was now able to chase him out
of Macedon, involved in designs and disturbed, he should expect till
Demetrius at leisure, and grown great, should bring the war home to his
own door, and make him fight for his temples and sepulchers in
Molossia; especially having so lately, by his means, lost Corcyra and
his wife together. For Lanassa had taken offense at Pyrrhus for too
great an inclination to those wives of his that were barbarians, and so
withdrew to Corcyra, and desiring to marry some king, invited
Demetrius, knowing of all the kings he was most ready to entertain
offers of marriage; so he sailed thither, married Lanassa, and placed a
garrison in the city. The kings having written thus to Pyrrhus,
themselves likewise contrived to find Demetrius work, while he was
delaying and making his preparations. Ptolemy, setting out with a great
fleet, drew off many of the Greek cities. Lysimachus out of Thrace
wasted the upper Macedon; and Pyrrhus, also, taking arms at the same
time, marched to Beroea, expecting, as it fell out, that Demetrius,
collecting his forces against Lysimachus, would leave the lower country
undefended. That very night he seemed in his sleep to be called by
Alexander the Great, and approaching saw him sick abed, but was
received with very kind words and much respect, and promised zealous
assistance. He making bold to reply: "How, Sir, can you, being sick,
assist me?" "With my name," said he, and mounting a Nisaean horse,
seemed to lead the way. At the sight of this vision he was much
assured, and with swift marches overrunning all the interjacent places,
takes Beroea, and making his head-quarters there, reduced the rest of
the country by his commanders. When Demetrius received intelligence of
this, and perceived likewise the Macedonians ready to mutiny in the
army, he was afraid to advance further, lest coming near Lysimachus, a
Macedonian king, and of great fame, they should revolt to him. So
returning, he marched directly against Pyrrhus, as a stranger, and
hated by the Macedonians. But while he lay encamped there near him,
many who came out of Beroea infinitely praised Pyrrhus as invincible in
arms, a glorious warrior, who treated those he had taken kindly and
humanely. Several of these Pyrrhus himself sent privately, pretending
to be Macedonians, and saying, now was the time to be delivered from
the severe government of Demetrius, by coming over to Pyrrhus, a
gracious prince, and a lover of soldiers. By this artifice a great part
of the army was in a state of excitement, and the soldiers began to
look every way about, inquiring for Pyrrhus. It happened he was without
his helmet, till understanding they did not know him, he put it on
again, and so was quickly recognized by his lofty crest, and the goat's
horns he wore upon it. Then the Macedonians, running to him, desired to
be told his password, and some put oaken boughs upon their heads,
because they saw them worn by the soldiers about him. Some persons even
took the confidence to say to Demetrius himself, that he would be well
advised to withdraw, and lay down the government. And he, indeed,
seeing the mutinous movements of the army to be only too consistent
with what they said, privately got away, disguised in a broad hat, and
a common soldier's coat. So Pyrrhus became master of the army without
fighting, and was declared king of the Macedonians.
But Lysimachus now arriving, and claiming the defeat of Demetrius as
the joint exploit of them both, and that therefore the kingdom should
be shared between them, Pyrrhus, not as yet quite assured of the
Macedonians, and in doubt of their faith, consented to the proposition
of Lysimachus, and divided the country and cities between them
accordingly. This was for the present useful, and prevented a war; but
shortly after they found the partition not so much a peaceful
settlement, as an occasion of further complaint and difference. For men
whose ambition neither seas nor mountains, nor unpeopled deserts can
limit, nor the bounds dividing Europe from Asia confine their vast
desires, it would be hard to expect to forbear from injuring one
another when they touch, and are close together. These are ever
naturally at war, envying and seeking advantages of one another, and
merely make use of those two words, peace and war, like current coin,
to serve their occasions, not as justice but as expediency suggests,
and are really better men when they openly enter on a war, than when
they give to the mere forbearance from doing wrong, for want of
opportunity, the sacred names of justice and friendship. Pyrrhus was an
instance of this; for setting himself against the rise of Demetrius
again, and endeavoring to hinder the recovery of his power, as it were
from a kind of sickness, he assisted the Greeks, and came to Athens,
where, having ascended the Acropolis, he offered sacrifice to the
goddess, and the same day came down again, and told the Athenians he
was much gratified by the good-will and the confidence they had shown
to him; but if they were wise, he advised them never to let any king
come thither again, or open their city gates to him. He concluded also
a peace with Demetrius, but shortly after he was gone into Asia, at the
persuasion of Lysimachus, he tampered with the Thessalians to revolt,
and besieged his cities in Greece; finding he could better preserve the
attachment of the Macedonians in war than in peace, and being of his
own inclination not much given to rest. At last, after Demetrius had
been overthrown in Syria, Lysimachus, who had secured his affairs, and
had nothing to do, immediately turned his whole forces upon Pyrrhus,
who was in quarters at Edessa, and falling upon and seizing his convoy
of provisions, brought first a great scarcity into the army; then
partly by letters, partly by spreading rumors abroad, he corrupted the
principal officers of the Macedonians, reproaching them that they had
made one their master who was both a stranger and descended from those
who had ever been servants to the Macedonians, and that they had thrust
the old friends and familiars of Alexander out of the country. The
Macedonian soldiers being much prevailed upon, Pyrrhus withdrew himself
with his Epirots and auxiliary forces, relinquishing Macedon just after
the same manner he took it. So little reason have kings to condemn
popular governments for changing sides as suits their interests, as in
this they do but imitate them who are the great instructors of
unfaithfulness and treachery; holding him the wisest that makes the
least account of being an honest man.
Pyrrhus having thus retired into Epirus, and left Macedon, fortune gave
him a fair occasion of enjoying himself in quiet, and peaceably
governing his own subjects; but he who thought it a nauseous course of
life not to be doing mischief to others, or receiving some from them,
like Achilles, could not endure repose,
-- But sat and languished far,
Desiring battle and the shout of war,
and gratified his inclination by the following pretext for new
troubles. The Romans were at war with the Tarentines, who, not being
able to go on with the war, nor yet, through the foolhardiness and the
viciousness of their popular speakers, to come to terms and give it up,
proposed now to make Pyrrhus their general, and engage him in it, as of
all the neighboring kings the most at leisure, and the most skillful as
a commander. The more grave and discreet citizens opposing these
counsels, were partly overborne by the noise and violence of the
multitude; while others, seeing this, absented themselves from the
assemblies; only one Meton, a very sober man, on the day this public
decree was to be ratified, when the people were now seating themselves,
came dancing into the assembly like one quite drunk, with a withered
garland and a small lamp in his hand, and a woman playing on a flute
before him. And as in great multitudes met at such popular assemblies,
no decorum can be well observed, some clapped him, others laughed, none
forbade him, but called to the woman to play, and to him to sing to the
company, and when they thought he was going to do so, "'Tis only right
of you, O men of Tarentum," he said, "not to hinder any from making
themselves merry, that have a mind to it, while it is yet in their
power; and if you are wise, you will take out your pleasure of your
freedom while you can, for you must change your course of life, and
follow other diet when Pyrrhus comes to town." These words made a great
impression upon many of the Tarentines, and a confused murmur went
about, that he had spoken much to the purpose; but some who feared they
should be sacrificed if a peace were made with the Romans, reviled the
whole assembly for so tamely suffering themselves to be abused by a
drunken sot, and crowding together upon Meton, thrust him out. So the
public order was passed, and ambassadors sent into Epirus, not only in
their own names, but in those of all the Italian Greeks, carrying
presents to Pyrrhus, and letting him know they wanted a general of
reputation and experience; and that they could furnish him with large
forces of Lucanians, Messapians, Samnites, and Tarentines, amounting to
twenty thousand horse, and three hundred and fifty thousand foot. This
did not only quicken Pyrrhus, but raised an eager desire for the
expedition in the Epirots.
There was one Cineas, a Thessalian, considered to be a man of very good
sense, a disciple of the great orator Demosthenes, who of all that were
famous at that time for speaking well, most seemed, as in a picture, to
revive in the minds of the audience the memory of his force and vigor
of eloquence; and being always about Pyrrhus, and sent about in his
service to several cities, verified the saying of Euripides, that
-- the force of words Can do whate'er is done by conquering swords.
And Pyrrhus was used to say, that Cineas had taken more towns with his
words, than he with his arms, and always did him the honor to employ
him in his most important occasions. This person, seeing Pyrrhus
eagerly preparing for Italy, led him one day when he was at leisure
into the following reasonings: "The Romans, sir, are reported to be
great warriors and conquerors of many warlike nations; if God permit us
to overcome them, how should we use our victory?" "You ask," said
Pyrrhus, "a thing evident of itself. The Romans once conquered, there
is neither Greek nor barbarian city that will resist us, but we shall
presently be masters of all Italy, the extent and resources and
strength of which anyone should rather profess to be ignorant of, than
yourself." Cineas, after a little pause, "And having subdued Italy,
what shall we do next?" Pyrrhus not yet discovering his intention,
"Sicily," he replied, "next holds out her arms to receive us, a wealthy
and populous island, and easy to be gained; for since Agathocles left
it, only faction and anarchy, and the licentious violence of the
demagogues prevail." "You speak," said Cineas, "what is perfectly
probable, but will the possession of Sicily put an end to the war?"
"God grant us," answered Pyrrhus, "victory and success in that, and we
will use these as forerunners of greater things; who could forbear from
Libya and Carthage then within reach, which Agathocles, even when
forced to fly from Syracuse, and passing the sea only with a few ships,
had all but surprised? These conquests once perfected, will any assert
that of the enemies who now pretend to despise us, anyone will dare to
make further resistance?" "None," replied Cineas, "for then it is
manifest we may with such mighty forces regain Macedon, and make all
absolute conquest of Greece; and when all these are in our power, what
shall we do then?" Said Pyrrhus, smiling, "we will live at our ease, my
dear friend, and drink all day, and divert ourselves with pleasant
conversation." When Cineas had led Pyrrhus with his argument to this
point: "And what hinders us now, sir, if we have a mind to be merry,
and entertain one another, since we have at hand without trouble all
those necessary things, to which through much blood and great labor,
and infinite hazards and mischief done to ourselves and to others, we
design at last to arrive?" Such reasonings rather troubled Pyrrhus with
the thought of the happiness he was quitting, than any way altered his
purpose, being unable to abandon the hopes of what he so much desired.
And first, he sent away Cineas to the Tarentines with three thousand
men; presently after, many vessels for transport of horse, and galleys,
and flat-bottomed boats of all sorts arriving from Tarentum, he shipped
upon them twenty elephants, three thousand horse, twenty thousand foot,
two thousand archers, and five hundred slingers. All being thus in
readiness, he set sail, and being half way over, was driven by the
wind, blowing, contrary to the season of the year, violently from the
north, and carried from his course, but by the great skill and
resolution of his pilots and seamen, he made the land with infinite
labor, and beyond expectation. The rest of the fleet could not get up,
and some of the dispersed ships, losing the coast of Italy, were driven
into the Libyan and Sicilian Sea; others not able to double the Cape of
Japygium, were overtaken by the night; and with a boisterous and heavy
sea, throwing them upon a dangerous and rocky shore, they were all very
much disabled except the royal galley. She, while the sea bore upon her
sides, resisted with her bulk and strength, and avoided the force of
it, till the wind coming about, blew directly in their teeth from the
shore, and the vessel keeping up with her head against it, was in
danger of going to pieces; yet on the other hand, to suffer themselves
to be driven off to sea again, which was thus raging and tempestuous,
with the wind shifting about every way, seemed to them the most
dreadful of all their present evils. Pyrrhus, rising up, threw himself
overboard. His friends and guards strove eagerly who should be most
ready to help him, but night and the sea with its noise and violent
surge, made it extremely difficult to do this; so that hardly, when
with the morning the wind began to subside, he got ashore, breathless,
and weakened in body, but with high courage and strength of mind
resisting his hard fortune. The Messapians, upon whose shore they were
thrown by the tempest, came up eagerly to help them in the best manner
they could; and some of the straggling vessels that had escaped the
storm arrived; in which were a very few horse, and not quite two
thousand foot, and two elephants.
With these Pyrrhus marched straight to Tarentum, where Cineas, being
informed of his arrival, led out the troops to meet him. Entering the
town, he did nothing unpleasing to the Tarentines, nor put any force
upon them, till his ships were all in harbor, and the greatest part of
the army got together; but then perceiving that the people, unless some
strong compulsion was used to them, were not capable either of saving
others or being saved themselves, and were rather intending, while he
engaged for them in the field, to remain at home bathing and feasting
themselves, he first shut up the places of public exercise, and the
walks where, in their idle way, they fought their country's battles and
conducted her campaigns in their talk; he prohibited likewise all
festivals, revels, and drinking-parties, as unseasonable, and summoning
them to arms, showed himself rigorous and inflexible in carrying out
the conscription for service in the war. So that many, not
understanding what it was to be commanded, left the town, calling it
mere slavery not to do as they pleased. He now received intelligence
that Laevinus, the Roman consul, was upon his march with a great army,
and plundering Lucania as he went. The confederate forces were not come
up to him, yet he thought it impossible to suffer so near an approach
of an enemy, and drew out with his army, but first sent an herald to
the Romans to know if before the war they would decide the differences
between them and the Italian Greeks by his arbitrament and mediation.
But Laevinus returning answer, that the Romans neither accepted him as
arbitrator. nor feared him as an enemy, Pyrrhus advanced, and encamped
in the plain between the cities of Pandosia and Heraclea, and having
notice the Romans were near, and lay on the other side of the river
Siris, he rode up to take a view of them, and seeing their order, the
appointment of the watches, their method and the general form of their
encampment, he was amazed, and addressing one of his friends next to
him: "This order," said he, "Megacles, of the barbarians, is not at all
barbarian in character; we shall see presently what they can do;" and,
growing a little more thoughtful of the event, resolved to expect the
arriving of the confederate troops. And to hinder the Romans, if in the
meantime they should endeavor to pass the river, he planted men all
along the bank to oppose them. But they, hastening to anticipate the
coming up of the same forces which he had determined to wait for,
attempted the passage with their infantry, where it was fordable, and
with the horse in several places, so that the Greeks, fearing to be
surrounded, were obliged to retreat, and Pyrrhus, perceiving this and
being much surprised, bade his foot officers draw their men up in line
of battle, and continue in arms, while he himself, with three thousand
horse, advanced, hoping to attack the Romans as they were coming over,
scattered and disordered. But when he saw a vast number of shields
appearing above the water, and the horse following them in good order,
gathering his men in a closer body, himself at the head of them, he
began the charge, conspicuous by his rich and beautiful armor, and
letting it be seen that his reputation had not outgone what he was able
effectually to perform. While exposing his hands and body in the fight,
and bravely repelling all that engaged him, he still guided the battle
with a steady and undisturbed reason, and such presence of mind, as if
he had been out of the action and watching it from a distance, passing
still from point to point, and assisting those whom he thought most
pressed by the enemy. Here Leonnatus the Macedonian, observing one of
the Italians very intent upon Pyrrhus, riding up towards him, and
changing places as he did, and moving as he moved: "Do you see, sir,"
said he, "that barbarian on the black horse with white feet? he seems
to me one that designs some great and dangerous thing, for he looks
constantly at you, and fixes his whole attention, full of vehement
purpose, on you alone, taking no notice of others. Be on your guard,
sir, against him." "Leonnatus," said Pyrrhus, "it is impossible for any
man to avoid his fate; but neither he nor any other Italian shall have
much satisfaction in engaging with me." While they were in this
discourse, the Italian, lowering his spear and quickening his horse,
rode furiously at Pyrrhus, and run his horse through with his lance; at
the same instant Leonnatus ran his through. Both horses falling,
Pyrrhus's friends surrounded him and brought him off safe, and killed
the Italian, bravely defending himself. He was by birth a Frentanian,
captain of a troop, and named Oplacus.
This made Pyrrhus use greater caution, and now seeing his horse give
ground, he brought up the infantry against the enemy, and changing his
scarf and his arms with Megacles, one of his friends, and, obscuring
himself, as it were, in his, charged upon the Romans, who received and
engaged him, and a great while the success of the battle remained
undetermined; and it is said there were seven turns of fortune both of
pursuing and being pursued. And the change of his arms was very
opportune for the safety of his person, but had like to have overthrown
his cause and lost him the victory; for several falling upon Megacles,
the first that gave him his mortal wound was one Dexous, who, snatching
away his helmet and his robe, rode at once to Laevinus, holding them
up, and saying aloud he had killed Pyrrhus. These spoils being carried
about and shown among the ranks, the Romans were transported with joy,
and shouted aloud; while equal discouragement and terror prevailed
among the Greeks, until Pyrrhus, understanding what had happened, rode
about the army with his face bare, stretching out his hand to his
soldiers, and telling them aloud it was he. At last, the elephants more
particularly began to distress the Romans, whose horses, before they
came near, not enduring them, went back with their riders; and upon
this, he commanded the Thessalian cavalry to charge them in their
disorder, and routed them with great loss. Dionysius affirms near
fifteen thousand of the Romans fell; Hieronymus, no more than seven
thousand. On Pyrrhus's side, the same Dionysius makes thirteen thousand
slain, the other under four thousand; but they were the flower of his
men, and amongst them his particular friends as well as officers whom
he most trusted and made use of. However, be possessed himself of the
Romans' camp which they deserted, and gained over several confederate
cities, and wasted the country round about, and advanced so far that he
was within about thirty-seven miles of Rome itself. After the fight
many of the Lucanians and Samnites came in and joined him, whom he chid
for their delay, but yet he was evidently well pleased and raised in
his thoughts, that he had defeated so great an army of the Romans with
the assistance of the Tarentines alone.
The Romans did not remove Laevinus from the consulship; though it is
told that Caius Fabricius said, that the Epirots had not beaten the
Romans, but only Pyrrhus, Laevinus; insinuating that their loss was not
through want of valor but of conduct; but filled up their legions, and
enlisted fresh men with all speed, talking high and boldly of war,
which struck Pyrrhus with amazement. He thought it advisable by sending
first to make an experiment whether they had any inclination to treat,
thinking that to take the city and make an absolute conquest was no
work for such an army as his was at that time, but to settle a
friendship, and bring them to terms, would be highly honorable after
his victory. Cineas was dispatched away, and applied himself to several
of the great ones, with presents for themselves and their ladies from
the king; but not a person would receive any, and answered, as well men
as women, that if an agreement were publicly concluded, they also
should be ready, for their parts, to express their regard to the king.
And Cineas, discoursing; with the senate in the most persuasive and
obliging manner in the world, yet was not heard with kindness or
inclination, although Pyrrhus offered also to return all the prisoners
he had taken in the fight without ransom, and promised his assistance
for the entire conquest of all Italy, asking only their friendship for
himself, and security for the Tarentines, and nothing further.
Nevertheless, most were well-inclined to a peace, having already
received one great defeat, and fearing another from an additional force
of the native Italians, now joining with Pyrrhus. At this point Appius
Claudius, a man of great distinction, but who, because of his great age
and loss of sight, had declined the fatigue of public business, after
these propositions had been made by the king, hearing a report that the
senate was ready to vote the conditions of peace, could not forbear,
but commanding his servants to take him up, was carried in his chair
through the forum to the senate house. When he was set down at the
door, his sons and sons-in-law took him up in their arms, and, walking
close round about him, brought him into the senate. Out of reverence
for so worthy a man, the whole assembly was respectfully silent.
And a little after raising up himself: "I bore," said he, "until this
time, the misfortune of my eyes with some impatience, but now while I
hear of these dishonorable motions and resolves of yours, destructive
to the glory of Rome, it is my affliction, that being already blind, I
am not deaf too. Where is now that discourse of yours that became
famous in all the world, that if he, the great Alexander, had come into
Italy, and dared to attack us when we were young men, and our fathers,
who were then in their prime, he had not now been celebrated as
invincible, but either flying hence, or falling here, had left Rome
more glorious? You demonstrate now that all that was but foolish
arrogance and vanity, by fearing Molossians and Chaonians, ever the
Macedonian's prey, and by trembling at Pyrrhus who was himself but a
humble servant to one of Alexander's life-guard, and comes here, not so
much to assist the Greeks that inhabit among us, as to escape from his
enemies at home, a wanderer about Italy, and yet dares to promise you
the conquest of it all by that army which has not been able to preserve
for him a little part of Macedon. Do not persuade yourselves that
making him your friend is the way to send him back, it is the way
rather to bring over other invaders from thence, contemning you as easy
to be reduced, if Pyrrhus goes off without punishment for his outrages
on you, but, on the contrary, with the reward of having enabled the
Tarentines and Samnites to laugh at the Romans." When Appius had done,
eagerness for the war seized on every man, and Cineas was dismissed
with this answer, that when Pyrrhus had withdrawn his forces out of
Italy, then, if he pleased, they would treat with him about friendship
and alliance, but while he stayed there in arms, they were resolved to
prosecute the war against him with all their force, though he should
have defeated a thousand Laevinuses. It is said that Cineas, while he
was managing this affair, made it his business carefully to inspect the
manners of the Romans, and to understand their methods of government,
and having conversed with their noblest citizens, he afterwards told
Pyrrhus, among other things, that the senate seemed to him an assembly
of kings, and as for the people, he feared lest it might prove that
they were fighting with a Lernaean hydra, for the consul had already
raised twice as large an army as the former, and there were many times
over the same number of Romans able to bear arms.
Then Caius Fabricius came in embassy from the Romans to treat about the
prisoners that were taken, one whom Cineas had reported to be a man of
highest consideration among them as an honest man and a good soldier,
but extremely poor. Pyrrhus received him with much kindness, and
privately would have persuaded him to accept of his gold, not for any
evil purpose, but calling it a mark of respect and hospitable kindness.
Upon Fabricius's refusal, he pressed him no further, but the next day,
having a mind to discompose him, as he had never seen an elephant
before, he commanded one of the largest, completely armed, to be placed
behind the hangings, as they were talking together. Which being done,
upon a sign given the hanging was drawn aside, and the elephant,
raising his trunk over the head of Fabricius, made an horrid and ugly
noise. He, gently turning about and smiling, said to Pyrrhus, "neither
your money yesterday, nor this beast today make any impression upon
me." At supper, amongst all sorts of things that were discoursed of,
but more particularly Greece and the philosophers there, Cineas, by
accident, had occasion to speak of Epicurus, and explained the opinions
his followers hold about the gods and the commonwealth, and the object
of life, placing the chief happiness of man in pleasure, and declining
public affairs as an injury and disturbance of a happy life, removing
the gods afar off both from kindness or anger, or any concern for us at
all, to a life wholly without business and flowing in pleasures. Before
he had done speaking, "O Hercules!" Fabricius cried out to Pyrrhus,
"may Pyrrhus and the Samnites entertain themselves with this sort of
opinions as long as they are in war with us." Pyrrhus, admiring the
wisdom and gravity of the man, was the more transported with desire of
making friendship instead of war with the city, and entreated him,
personally, after the peace should be concluded, to accept of living
with him as the chief of his ministers and generals. Fabricius answered
quietly, "Sir, this will not be for your advantage, for they who now
honor and admire you, when they have had experience of me, will rather
choose to be governed by me, than by you." Such was Fabricius. And
Pyrrhus received his answer without any resentment or tyrannic passion;
nay, among his friends he highly commended the great mind of Fabricius,
and entrusted the prisoners to him alone, on condition that if the
senate should not vote a peace, after they had conversed with their
friends and celebrated the festival of Saturn, they should be remanded.
And, accordingly, they were sent back after the holidays; it being
decreed pain of death for any that stayed behind.
After this, Fabricius taking the consulate, a person came with a letter
to the camp written by the king's principal physician, offering to take
off Pyrrhus by poison, and so end the war without further hazard to the
Romans, if he might have a reward proportionable to his service.
Fabricius, hating the villainy of the man, and disposing the other
consul to the same opinion, sent dispatches immediately to Pyrrhus to
caution him against the treason. His letter was to this effect: "Caius
Fabricius and Quintus Aemilius, consuls of the Romans, to Pyrrhus the
king, health. You seem to have made an ill judgment both of your
friends and enemies; you will understand by reading this letter sent to
us, that you are at war with honest men, and trust villains and knaves.
Nor do we disclose this to you out of any favor to you, but lest your
ruin might bring a reproach upon us, as if we had ended the war by
treachery, as not able to do it by force." When Pyrrhus had read the
letter, and made inquiry into the treason, he punished the physician,
and as an acknowledgment to the Romans sent to Rome the prisoners
without ransom, and again employed Cineas to negotiate a peace for him.
But they, regarding it as at once too great a kindness from an enemy,
and too great a reward of not doing an ill thing to accept their
prisoners so, released in return an equal number of the Tarentines and
Samnites, but would admit of no debate of alliance or peace until he
had removed his arms and forces out of Italy, and sailed back to Epirus
with the same ships that brought him over. Afterwards, his affairs
demanding a second fight, when he had refreshed his men, he decamped,
and met the Romans about the city Asculum, where, however, he was much
incommoded by a woody country unfit for his horse, and a swift river,
so that the elephants, for want of sure treading, could not get up with
the infantry. After many wounded and many killed, night put an end to
the engagement. Next day, designing to make the fight on even ground,
and have the elephants among the thickest of the enemy, he caused a
detachment to possess themselves of those incommodious grounds, and,
mixing slingers and archers among the elephants, with full strength and
courage, he advanced in a close and well-ordered body. The Romans, not
having those advantages of retreating and falling on as they pleased,
which they had before, were obliged to fight man to man upon plain
ground, and, being anxious to drive back the infantry before the
elephants could get up, they fought fiercely with their swords among
the Macedonian spears, not sparing themselves, thinking only to wound
and kill, without regard of what they suffered. After a long and
obstinate fight, the first giving ground is reported to have been where
Pyrrhus himself engaged with extraordinary courage; but they were most
carried away by the overwhelming force of the elephants, not being able
to make use of their valor, but overthrown as it were by the irruption
of a sea or an earthquake, before which it seemed better to give way
than to die without doing anything, and not gain the least advantage by
suffering the utmost extremity, the retreat to their camp not being
far. Hieronymus says, there fell six thousand of the Romans, and of
Pyrrhus's men, the king's own commentaries reported three thousand five
hundred and fifty lost in this action. Dionysius, however, neither
gives any account of two engagements at Asculum, nor allows the Romans
to have been certainly beaten, stating that once only, after they had
fought till sunset, both armies were unwillingly separated by the
night, Pyrrhus being wounded by a javelin in the arm, and his baggage
plundered by the Samnites, that in all there died of Pyrrhus's men and
the Romans above fifteen thousand. The armies separated; and, it is
said, Pyrrhus replied to one that gave him joy of his victory, that one
other such would utterly undo him. For he had lost a great part of the
forces he brought with him, and almost all his particular friends and
principal commanders; there were no others there to make recruits, and
he found the confederates in Italy backward. On the other hand, as from
a fountain continually flowing out of the city, the Roman camp was
quickly and plentifully filled up with fresh men, not at all abating in
courage for the losses they sustained, but even from their very anger
gaining new force and resolution to go on with the war.
Among these difficulties he fell again into new hopes and projects
distracting his purposes. For at the same time some persons arrived
from Sicily, offering into his hands the cities of Agrigentum,
Syracuse, and Leontini, and begging his assistance to drive out the
Carthaginians, and rid the island of tyrants; and others brought him
news out of Greece that Ptolemy, called Ceraunus, was slain in a fight,
and his army cut in pieces by the Gauls, and that now, above all
others, was his time to offer himself to the Macedonians, in great need
of a king. Complaining much of fortune for bringing him so many
occasions of great things all together at a time, and thinking that to
have both offered to him, was to lose one of them, he was doubtful,
balancing in his thoughts. But the affairs of Sicily seeming to hold
out the greater prospects, Africa lying so near, he turned himself to
them, and presently dispatched away Cineas, as he used to do, to make
terms beforehand with the cities. Then he placed a garrison in
Tarentum, much to the Tarentines' discontent, who required him either
to perform what he came for, and continue with them in a war against
the Romans, or leave the city as he found it. He returned no pleasing
answer, but commanded them to be quiet and attend his time, and so
sailed away. Being arrived in Sicily, what he had designed in his hopes
was confirmed effectually, and the cities frankly surrendered to him;
and wherever his arms and force were necessary, nothing at first made
any considerable resistance. For advancing with thirty thousand foot,
and twenty-five hundred horse, and two hundred ships, he totally routed
the Phoenicians, and overran their whole province, and Eryx being the
strongest town they held, and having a great garrison in it, he
resolved to take it by storm. The army being in readiness to give the
assault, he put on his arms, and coming to the head of his men, made a
vow of plays and sacrifices in honor to Hercules, if he signalized
himself in that day's action before the Greeks that dwelt in Sicily, as
became his great descent and his fortunes. The sign being given by
sound of trumpet, he first scattered the barbarians with his shot, and
then brought his ladders to the wall, and was the first that mounted
upon it himself, and, the enemy appearing in great numbers, he beat
them back; some he threw down from the walls on each side, others he
laid dead in a heap round about him with his sword, nor did he receive
the least wound, but by his very aspect inspired terror in the enemy;
and gave a clear demonstration that Homer was in the right, and
pronounced according to the truth of fact, that fortitude alone, of all
the virtues, is wont to display itself in divine transports and
frenzies. The city being taken, he offered to Hercules most
magnificently, and exhibited all varieties of shows and plays.
A sort of barbarous people about Messena, called Mamertines, gave much
trouble to the Greeks, and put several of them under contribution.
These being numerous and valiant (from whence they had their name,
equivalent in the Latin tongue to warlike), he first intercepted the
collectors of the contribution money, and cut them off, then beat them
in open fight, and destroyed many of their places of strength. The
Carthaginians being now inclined to composition, and offering him a
round sum of money, and to furnish him with shipping, if a peace were
concluded, he told them plainly, aspiring still to greater things,
there was but one way for a friendship and right understanding between
them, if they, wholly abandoning Sicily, would consent to make the
African sea the limit between them and the Greeks. And being elevated
with his good fortune, and the strength of his forces, and pursuing
those hopes in prospect of which he first sailed thither, his immediate
aim was at Africa; and as he had abundance of shipping, but very ill
equipped, he collected seamen, not by fair and gentle dealing with the
cities, but by force in a haughty and insolent way, and menacing them
with punishments. And as at first he had not acted thus, but had been
unusually indulgent and kind, ready to believe, and uneasy to none; now
of a popular leader becoming a tyrant by these severe proceedings, he
got the name of an ungrateful and a faithless man. However, they gave
way to these things as necessary, although they took them very ill from
him; and especially when he began to show suspicion of Thoenon and
Sosistratus, men of the first position in Syracuse, who invited him
over into Sicily, and when he was come, put the cities into his power,
and were most instrumental in all he had done there since his arrival,
whom he now would neither suffer to be about his person, nor leave at
home; and when Sosistratus out of fear withdrew himself, and then he
charged Thoenon, as in a conspiracy with the other, and put him to
death, with this all his prospects changed, not by little and little,
nor in a single place only, but a mortal hatred being raised in the
cities against him, some fell off to the Carthaginians, others called
in the Mamertines. And seeing revolts in all places, and desires of
alteration, and a potent faction against him, at the same time he
received letters from the Samnites and Tarentines, who were beaten
quite out of the field, and scarce able to secure their towns against
the war, earnestly begging his help. This served as a color to make his
relinquishing Sicily no flight, nor a despair of good success; but in
truth not being able to manage Sicily, which was as a ship laboring in
a storm, and willing to be out of her, he suddenly threw himself over
into Italy. It is reported that at his going off he looked back upon
the island, and said to those about him, "How brave a field of war do
we leave, my friends, for the Romans and Carthaginians to fight in,"
which, as he then conjectured, fell out indeed not long after.
When he was sailing off, the barbarians having conspired together, he
was forced to a fight with the Carthaginians in the very road, and lost
many of his ships; with the rest he fled into Italy. There, about one
thousand Mamertines, who had crossed the sea a little before, though
afraid to engage him in open field, setting upon him where the passages
were difficult, put the whole army in confusion. Two elephants fell,
and a great part of his rear was cut off. He, therefore, coming up in
person, repulsed the enemy, but ran into great danger among men long
trained and bold in war. His being wounded in the head with a sword,
and retiring a little out of the fight, much increased their
confidence, and one of them advancing a good way before the rest, large
of body and in bright armor, with an haughty voice challenged him to
come forth if he were alive. Pyrrhus, in great anger, broke away
violently from his guards, and, in his fury, besmeared with blood,
terrible to look upon, made his way through his own men, and struck the
barbarian on the head with his sword such a blow, as with the strength
of his arm, and the excellent temper of the weapon, passed downward so
far that his body being cut asunder fell in two pieces. This stopped
the course of the barbarians, amazed and confounded at Pyrrhus, as one
more than man; so that continuing his march all the rest of the way
undisturbed, he arrived at Tarentum with twenty thousand foot and three
thousand horse, where, reinforcing himself with the choicest troops of
the Tarentines, he advanced immediately against the Romans, who then
lay encamped in the territories of the Samnites, whose affairs were
extremely shattered, and their counsels broken, having been in many
fights beaten by the Romans. There was also a discontent amongst them
at Pyrrhus for his expedition into Sicily, so that not many came in to
join him.
He divided his army into two parts, and dispatched the first into
Lucania to oppose one of the consuls there, so that he should not come
in to assist the other; the rest he led against Manius Curius, who had
posted himself very advantageously near Beneventum, and expected the
other consul's forces, and partly because the priests had dissuaded him
by unfavorable omens, was resolved to remain inactive. Pyrrhus,
hastening to attack these before the other could arrive, with his best
men, and the most serviceable elephants, marched in the night toward
their camp. But being forced to go round about, and through a very
woody country, their lights failed them, and the soldiers lost their
way. A council of war being called, while they were in debate, the
night was spent, and, at the break of day, his approach, as he came
down the hills, was discovered by the enemy, and put the whole camp
into disorder and tumult. But the sacrifices being auspicious, and the
time absolutely obliging them to fight, Manius drew his troops out of
the trenches, and attacked the vanguard, and, having routed them all,
put the whole army into consternation, so that many were cut off, and
some of the elephants taken. This success drew on Manius into the level
plain, and here, in open battle, he defeated part of the enemy; but, in
other quarters, finding himself overpowered by the elephants and forced
back to his trenches, he commanded out those who were left to guard
them, a numerous body, standing thick at the ramparts, all in arms and
fresh. These coming down from their strong position, and charging the
elephants, forced them to retire; and they in the flight turning back
upon their own men, caused great disorder and confusion, and gave into
the hands of the Romans the victory, and the future supremacy. Having
obtained from these efforts and these contests the feeling, as well as
the fame of invincible strength, they at once reduced Italy under their
power, and not long after Sicily too.
Thus fell Pyrrhus from his Italian and Sicilian hopes, after he had
consumed six years in these wars, and though unsuccessful in his
affairs, yet preserved his courage unconquerable among all these
misfortunes, and was held, for military experience, and personal valor
and enterprise much the bravest of all the princes of his time, only
what he got by great actions he lost again by vain hopes, and by new
desires of what he had not, kept nothing of what he had. So that
Antigonus used to compare him to a player with dice, who had excellent
throws, but knew not how to use them. He returned into Epirus with
eight thousand foot and five hundred horse, and for want of money to
pay them, was fain to look out for a new war to maintain the army. Some
of the Gauls joining him, he invaded Macedonia, where Antigonus, son of
Demetrius, governed, designing merely to plunder and waste the country.
But after he had made himself master of several towns, and two thousand
men came over to him, he began to hope for something greater, and
adventured upon Antigonus himself, and meeting him at a narrow passage,
put the whole army in disorder. The Gauls, who brought up Antigonus's
rear, were very numerous and stood firm, but after a sharp encounter,
the greatest part of them were cut off, and they who had the charge of
the elephants being surrounded every way, delivered up both themselves
and the beasts. Pyrrhus, taking this advantage, and advising more with
his good fortune than his reason, boldly set upon the main body of the
Macedonian foot, already surprised with fear, and troubled at the
former loss. They declined any action or engagement with him; and he,
holding out his hand and calling aloud both to the superior and under
officers by name, brought over the foot from Antigonus, who, flying
away secretly, was only able to retain some of the seaport towns.
Pyrrhus, among all these kindnesses of fortune, thinking what he had
effected against the Gauls the most advantageous for his glory, hung up
their richest and goodliest spoils in the temple of Minerva Itonis,
with this inscription: --
Pyrrhus, descendant of Molossian kings,
These shields to thee, Itonian goddess, brings,
Won from the valiant Gauls when in the fight
Antigonus and all his host took flight;
'Tis not today nor yesterday alone
That for brave deeds the Aeacidae are known.
After this victory in the field, he proceeded to secure the cities, and
having possessed himself of Aegae, beside other hardships put upon the
people there, he left in the town a garrison of Gauls, some of those in
his own army, who, being insatiably desirous of wealth, instantly dug
up the tombs of the kings that lay buried there, and took away the
riches, and insolently scattered about their bones. Pyrrhus, in
appearance, made no great matter of it, either deferring it on account
of the pressure of other business, or wholly passing it by, out of a
fear of punishing those barbarians; but this made him very ill spoken
of among the Macedonians, and his affairs being yet unsettled and
brought to no firm consistence, he began to entertain new hopes and
projects, and in raillery called Antigonus a shameless man, for still
wearing his purple and not changing it for an ordinary dress; but upon
Cleonymus, the Spartan, arriving and inviting him to Lacedaemon, he
frankly embraced the overture. Cleonymus was of royal descent, but
seeming too arbitrary and absolute, had no great respect nor credit at
home; and Areus was king there. This was the occasion of an old and
public grudge between him and the citizens; but, beside that,
Cleonymus, in his old age, had married a young lady of great beauty and
royal blood, Chilonis, daughter of Leotychides, who, falling
desperately in love with Acrotatus, Areus's son, a youth in the flower
of manhood, rendered this match both uneasy and dishonorable to
Cleonymus, as there was none of the Spartans who did not very well know
how much his wife slighted him; so these domestic troubles added to his
public discontent. He brought Pyrrhus to Sparta with an army of
twenty-five thousand foot, two thousand horse, and twenty-four
elephants. So great a preparation made it evident to the whole world,
that he came not so much to gain Sparta for Cleonymus, as to take all
Peloponnesus for himself, although he expressly denied this to the
Lacedaemonian ambassadors that came to him at Megalopolis, affirming he
came to deliver the cities from the slavery of Antigonus, and declaring
he would send his younger sons to Sparta, if he might, to be brought up
in Spartan habits, that so they might be better bred than all other
kings. With these pretensions amusing those who came to meet him in his
march, as soon as ever he entered Laconia, he began to plunder and
waste the country, and on the ambassadors complaining that he began the
war upon them before it was proclaimed: "We know," said he, "very well,
that neither do you Spartans, when you design anything, talk of it
beforehand." One Mandroclidas, then present, told him, in the broad
Spartan dialect: "If you are a god, you will do us no harm, we are
wronging no man; but if you are a man, there may be another stronger
than you."
He now marched away directly for Lacedaemon, and being advised by
Cleonymus to give the assault as soon as he arrived, fearing, as it is
said, lest the soldiers, entering by night, should plunder the city, he
answered, they might do it as well next morning, because there were but
few soldiers in town, and those unprovided against his sudden approach,
as Areus was not there in person, but gone to aid the Gortynians in
Crete. And it was this alone that saved the town, because he despised
it as not tenable, and so imagining no defense would be made, he sat
down before it that night. Cleonymus's friends, and the Helots, his
domestic servants, had made great preparation at his house, as
expecting Pyrrhus there at supper. In the night the Lacedaemonians held
a consultation to ship over all the women into Crete, but they
unanimously refused, and Archidamia came into the senate with a sword
in her hand, in the name of them all, asking if the men expected the
women to survive the ruins of Sparta. It was next resolved to draw a
trench in a line directly over against the enemy's camp, and, here and
there in it, to sink wagons in the ground, as deep as the naves of the
wheels, that, so being firmly fixed, they might obstruct the passage of
the elephants. When they had just begun the work, both maids and women
came to them, the married women with their robes tied like girdles
round their underfrocks, and the unmarried girls in their single frocks
only, to assist the elder men at the work. As for the youth that were
next day to engage, they left them to their rest, and undertaking their
proportion, they themselves finished a third part of the trench, which
was in breadth six cubits, four in depth, and eight hundred feet long,
as Phylarchus says; Hieronymus makes it somewhat less. The enemy
beginning to move by break of day, they brought their arms to the young
men, and giving them also in charge the trench, exhorted them to defend
and keep it bravely, as it would be happy for them to conquer in the
view of their whole country, and glorious to die in the arms of their
mothers and wives, falling as became Spartans. As for Chilonis, she
retired with a halter about her neck, resolving to die so rather than
fall into the hands of Cleonymus, if the city were taken.
Pyrrhus himself, in person, advanced with his foot to force through the
shields of the Spartans ranged against him, and to get over the trench,
which was scarce passable, because the looseness of the fresh earth
afforded no firm footing for the soldiers. Ptolemy, his son, with two
thousand Gauls, and some choice men of the Chaonians, went around the
trench, and endeavored to get over where the wagons were. But they,
being so deep in the ground, and placed close together, not only made
his passage, but also the defense of the Lacedaemonians very
troublesome. Yet now the Gauls had got the wheels out of the ground,
and were drawing off the wagons toward the river, when young Acrotatus,
seeing the danger, passing through the town with three hundred men,
surrounded Ptolemy undiscerned, taking the advantage of some slopes of
the ground, until he fell upon his rear, and forced him to wheel about.
And thrusting one another into the ditch, and falling among the wagons,
at last with much loss, not without difficulty, they withdrew. The
elderly men and all the women saw this brave action of Acrotatus, and
when he returned back into the town to his first post, all covered with
blood, and fierce and elate with victory, he seemed to the Spartan
women to have become taller and more beautiful than before, and they
envied Chilonis so worthy a lover. And some of the old men followed
him, crying aloud, "Go on, Acrotatus, be happy with Chilonis, and beget
brave sons for Sparta." Where Pyrrhus himself fought was the hottest of
the action, and many of the Spartans did gallantly, but in particular
one Phyllius signalized himself, made the best resistance, and killed
most assailants; and when he found himself ready to sink with the many
wounds he had received, retiring a little out of his place behind
another, he fell down among his fellow-soldiers, that the enemy might
not carry off his body. The fight ended with the day, and Pyrrhus, in
his sleep, dreamed that he threw thunderbolts upon Lacedaemon, and set
it all on fire, and rejoiced at the sight; and waking, in this
transport of joy, he commanded his officers to get all things ready for
a second assault, and relating his dream among his friends, supposing
it to mean that he should take the town by storm, the rest assented to
it with admiration, but Lysimachus was not pleased with the dream, and
told him he feared, lest as places struck with lightning are held
sacred, and not to be trodden upon, so the gods might by this let him
know the city should not be taken. Pyrrhus replied, that all these
things were but idle talk, full of uncertainty, and only fit to amuse
the vulgar; their thought, with their swords in their hands, should
always be
The one good omen is king Pyrrhus' cause,
and so got up, and drew out his army to the walls by break of day. The
Lacedaemonians, in resolution and courage, made a defense even beyond
their power; the women were all by, helping them to arms, and bringing
bread and drink to those that desired it, and taking care of the
wounded. The Macedonians attempted to fill up the trench, bringing huge
quantities of materials and throwing them upon the arms and dead
bodies, that lay there and were covered over. While the Lacedaemonians
opposed this with all their force, Pyrrhus, in person, appeared on
their side of the trench and the wagons, pressing on horseback toward
the city, at which the men who had that post calling out, and the women
shrieking and running about, while Pyrrhus violently pushed on, and
beat down all that disputed his way, his horse received a shot in the
belly from a Cretan arrow, and, in his convulsions as he died, threw
off Pyrrhus on slippery and steep ground. And all about him being in
confusion at this, the Spartans came boldly up, and making good use of
their missiles, forced them off again. After this Pyrrhus, in other
quarters also, put an end to the combat, imagining the Lacedaemonians
would be inclined to yield, as almost all of them were wounded, and
very great numbers killed outright; but the good fortune of the city,
either satisfied with the experiment upon the bravery of the citizens,
or willing to prove how much even in the last extremities such
interposition may effect, brought, when the Lacedaemonians had now but
very slender hopes left, Aminias, the Phocian, one of Antigonus's
commanders, from Corinth to their assistance, with a force of
mercenaries; and they were no sooner received into the town, but Areus,
their king, arrived there himself, too, from Crete, with two thousand
men more. The women upon this went all home to their houses, finding it
no longer necessary for them to meddle with the business of the war;
and they also were sent back, who, though not of military age, were by
necessity forced to take arms, while the rest prepared to fight Pyrrhus.
He, upon the coming of these additional forces, was indeed possessed
with a more eager desire and ambition than before, to make himself
master of the town; but his designs not succeeding, and receiving fresh
losses every day, he gave over the siege, and fell to plundering the
country, determining to winter thereabout. But fate is unavoidable, and
a great feud happening at Argos between Aristeas and Aristippus, two
principal citizens, after Aristippus had resolved to make use of the
friendship of Antigonus, Aristeas, to anticipate him, invited Pyrrhus
thither. And he always revolving hopes upon hopes, and treating all his
successes as occasions of more, and his reverses as defects to be
amended by new enterprises, allowed neither losses nor victories to
limit him in his receiving or giving trouble, and so presently went for
Argos. Areus, by frequent ambushes, and seizing positions where the
ways were most unpracticable, harassed the Gauls and Molossians that
brought up the rear. It had been told Pyrrhus by one of the priests
that found the liver of the sacrificed beast imperfect, that some of
his near relations would be lost; in this tumult and disorder of his
rear, forgetting the prediction, he commanded out his son Ptolemy with
some of his guards to their assistance, while he himself led on the
main body rapidly out of the pass. And the fight being very warm where
Ptolemy was, (for the most select men of the Lacedaemonians, commanded
by Evalcus, were there engaged,) one Oryssus of Aptera in Crete, a
stout man and swift of foot, running on one side of the young prince,
as he was fighting bravely, gave him a mortal wound and slew him. On
his fall those about him turned their backs, and the Lacedaemonian
horse, pursuing and cutting off many, got into the open plain, and
found themselves engaged with the enemy before they were aware, without
their infantry; Pyrrhus, who had received the ill news of his son, and
was in great affliction, drew out his Molossian horse against them, and
charging at the head of his men, satiated himself with the blood and
slaughter of the Lacedaemonians, as indeed he always showed himself a
terrible and invincible hero in actual fight, but now he exceeded all
he had ever done before in courage and force. On his riding his horse
up to Evalcus, he, by declining a little to one side, had almost cut
off Pyrrhus's hand in which he held the reins, but lighting on the
reins, only cut them; at the same instant Pyrrhus, running him through
with his spear, fell from his horse, and there on foot as he was,
proceeded to slaughter all those choice men that fought about the body
of Evalcus; a severe additional loss to Sparta, incurred after the war
itself was now at an end, by the mere animosity of the commanders.
Pyrrhus having thus offered, as it were, a sacrifice to the ghost of
his son, and fought a glorious battle in honor of his obsequies, and
having vented much of his pain in action against the enemy, marched
away to Argos. And having intelligence that Antigonus was already in
possession of the high grounds, he encamped about Nauplia, and the next
day dispatched a herald to Antigonus, calling him a villain, and
challenging him to descend into the plain field and fight with him for
the kingdom. He answered, that his conduct should be measured by times
as well as by arms, and that if Pyrrhus had no leisure to live, there
were ways enough open to death. To both the kings, also, came
ambassadors from Argos, desiring each party to retreat, and to allow
the city to remain in friendship with both, without falling into the
hands of either. Antigonus was persuaded, and sent his son as a hostage
to the Argives; but, Pyrrhus, although he consented to retire, yet, as
he sent no hostage, was suspected. A remarkable portent happened at
this time to Pyrrhus; the heads of the sacrificed oxen, lying apart
from the bodies, were seen to thrust out their tongues and lick up
their own gore. And in the city of Argos, the priestess of Apollo
Lycius rushed out of the temple, crying she saw the city full of
carcasses and slaughter, and an eagle coming out to fight, and
presently vanishing again.
In the dead of the night, Pyrrhus, approaching the walls, and finding
the gate called Diamperes set open for them by Aristeas, was
undiscovered long enough to allow all his Gauls to enter and take
possession of the marketplace. But the gate being too low to let in the
elephants, they were obliged to take down the towers which they carried
on their backs, and put them on again in the dark and in disorder, so
that time being lost, the city took the alarm, and the people ran, some
to Aspis the chief citadel, and others to other places of defense, and
sent away to Antigonus to assist them. He, advancing within a short
distance, made an halt, but sent in some of his principal commanders,
and his son with a considerable force. Areus came thither, too, with
one thousand Cretans, and some of the most active men among the
Spartans, and all falling on at once upon the Gauls, put them in great
disorder. Pyrrhus, entering in with noise and shouting near the
Cylarabis, when the Gauls returned the cry, noticed that it did not
express courage and assurance, but was the voice of men distressed, and
that had their hands full. He, therefore, pushed forward in haste the
van of his horse that marched but slowly and dangerously, by reason of
the drains and sinks of which the city is full. In this night
engagement, there was infinite uncertainty as to what was being done,
or what orders were given; there was much mistaking and straggling in
the narrow streets; all generalship was useless in that darkness and
noise and pressure; so both sides continued without doing anything,
expecting daylight. At the first dawn, Pyrrhus, seeing the great
citadel Aspis full of enemies, was disturbed, and remarking, among a
variety of figures dedicated in the market-place, a wolf and bull of
brass, as it were ready to attack one another, he was struck with
alarm, recollecting an oracle that formerly predicted fate had
determined his death when he should see a wolf fighting with a bull.
The Argives say, these figures were set up in record of a thing that
long ago had happened there. For Danaus, at his first landing in the
country, near the Pyramia in Thyreatis, as he was on his way towards
Argos, espied a wolf fighting with a bull, and conceiving the wolf to
represent him, (for this stranger fell upon a native, as he designed to
do,) stayed to see the issue of the fight, and the wolf prevailing, he
offered vows to Apollo Lycius, and thus made his attempt upon the town,
and succeeded; Gelanor, who was then king, being displaced by a
faction. And this was the cause of dedicating those figures.
Pyrrhus, quite out of heart at this sight, and seeing none of his
designs succeed, thought best to retreat, but fearing the narrow
passage at the gate, sent to his son Helenus, who was left without the
town with a great part of his forces, commanding him to break down part
of the wall, and assist the retreat if the enemy pressed hard upon
them. But what with haste and confusion, the person that was sent
delivered nothing clearly; so that quite mistaking, the young prince
with the best of his men and the remaining elephants marched straight
through the gates into the town to assist his father. Pyrrhus was now
making good his retreat, and while the marketplace afforded them ground
enough both to retreat and fight, frequently repulsed the enemy that
bore upon him. But when he was forced out of that broad place into the
narrow street leading to the gate, and fell in with those who came the
other way to his assistance some did not hear him call out to them to
give back, and those who did, however eager to obey him, were pushed
forward by others behind, who poured in at the gate. Besides, the
largest of his elephants falling down on his side in the very gate, and
lying roaring on the ground, was in the way of those that would have
got out. Another of the elephants already in the town, called Nicon,
striving to take up his rider, who, after many wounds received, was
fallen off his back, bore forward upon those that were retreating, and,
thrusting upon friends as well as enemies, tumbled them all confusedly
upon one another, till having found the body, and taken it up with his
trunk, he carried it on his tusks, and, returning in a fury, trod down
all before him. Being thus pressed and crowded together, not a man
could do anything for himself, but being wedged, as it were, together
into one mass, the whole multitude rolled and swayed this way and that
all together, and did very little execution either upon the enemy in
their rear, or on any of them who were intercepted in the mass, but
very much harm to one another. For he who had either drawn his sword or
directed his lance, could neither restore it again, nor put his sword
up; with these weapons they wounded their own men, as they happened to
come in the way, and they were dying by mere contact with each other.
Pyrrhus, seeing this storm and confusion of things, took off the crown
he wore upon his helmet, by which he was distinguished, and gave it to
one nearest his person, and trusting to the goodness of his horse, rode
in among the thickest of the enemy, and being wounded with a lance
through his breastplate, but not dangerously, nor indeed very much, he
turned about upon the man who struck him, who was an Argive, not of any
illustrious birth, but the son of a poor old woman; she was looking
upon the fight among other women from the top of a house, and
perceiving her son engaged with Pyrrhus, and affrighted at the danger
he was in, took up a tile with both hands, and threw it at Pyrrhus.
This falling on his head below the helmet, and bruising the vertebrae
of the lower part of the neck, stunned and blinded him; his hands let
go the reins, and sinking down from his horse, he fell just by the tomb
of Licymnius. The common soldiers knew not who it was; but one Zopyrus,
who served under Antigonus, and two or three others running thither,
and knowing it was Pyrrhus, dragged him to a door way hard by, just as
he was recovering a little from the blow. But when Zopyrus drew out an
Illyrian sword, ready to cut off his head, Pyrrhus gave him so fierce a
look, that confounded with terror, and sometimes his hands trembling,
and then again endeavoring to do it, full of fear and confusion, he
could not strike him right, but cutting over his mouth and chin, it was
a long time before he got off the head. By this time what had happened
was known to a great many, and Alcyoneus hastening to the place,
desired to look upon the head, and see whether he knew it, and taking
it in his hand rode away to his father, and threw it at his feet, while
he was sitting with some of his particular favorites. Antigonus,
looking upon it, and knowing it, thrust his son from him, and struck
him with his staff, calling him wicked and barbarous, and covering his
eyes with his robe, shed tears, thinking of his own father and
grandfather, instances in his own family of the changefulness of
fortune, and caused the head and body of Pyrrhus to be burned with all
due solemnity. After this, Alcyoneus, discovering Helenus under a mean
disguise in a threadbare coat, used him very respectfully, and brought
him to his father. When Antigonus saw him, "This, my son," said he, "is
better; and yet even now you have not done wholly well in allowing
these clothes to remain, to the disgrace of those who it seems now are
the victors." And treating Helenus with great kindness, and as became a
prince, he restored him to his kingdom of Epirus, and gave the same
obliging reception to all Pyrrhus's principal commanders, his camp and
whole army having fallen into his hands.
CAIUS MARIUS
We are altogether ignorant of any third name of Caius Marius; as also
of Quintus Sertorius, that possessed himself of Spain; or of Lucius
Mummius that destroyed Corinth, though this last was surnamed Achaicus
from his conquests, as Scipio was called Africanus, and Metellus,
Macedonicus. Hence Posidonius draws his chief argument to confute those
that hold the third to be the Roman proper name, as Camillus,
Marcellus, Cato; as in this case, those that had but two names would
have no proper name at all. He did not, however, observe that by his
own reasoning he must rob the women absolutely of their names; for none
of them have the first, which Posidonius imagines the proper name with
the Romans. Of the other two, one was common to the whole family,
Pompeii, Manlii, Cornelii, (as with us Greeks, the Heraclidae, and
Pelopidae,) the other titular, and personal, taken either from their
natures, or actions, or bodily characteristics, as Macrinus, Torquatus,
Sylla; such as are Mnemon, Grypus, or Callinicus among the Greeks. On
the subject of names, however, the irregularity of custom, would we
insist upon it, might furnish us with discourse enough.
There is a likeness of Marius in stone at Ravenna, in Gaul, which I
myself saw, quite corresponding with that roughness and harshness of
character that is ascribed to him. Being naturally valiant and warlike,
and more acquainted also with the discipline of the camp than of the
city, he could not moderate his passion when in authority. He is said
never to have either studied Greek, or to have made use of that
language in any matter of consequence; thinking it ridiculous to bestow
time in that learning, the teachers of which were little better than
slaves. So after his second triumph, when at the dedication of a temple
he presented some shows after the Greek fashion, coming into the
theater, he only sat down and immediately departed. And, accordingly,
as Plato often used to say to Xenocrates the philosopher, who was
thought to show more than ordinary harshness of disposition, "I pray
you, good Xenocrates, sacrifice to the Graces"; so if any could have
persuaded Marius to pay his devotions to the Greek Muses and Graces, he
had never brought his incomparable actions, both in war and peace, to
so unworthy a conclusion, or wrecked himself, so to say, upon an old
age of cruelty and vindictiveness, through passion, ill-timed ambition,
and insatiable cupidity. But this will further appear by and by from
the facts.
He was born of parents altogether obscure and indigent, who supported
themselves by their daily labor; his father of the same name with
himself, his mother called Fulcinia. He had spent a considerable part
of his life before he saw and tasted the pleasures of the city; having
passed previously in Cirrhaeaton, a village of the territory of
Arpinum, a life, compared with city delicacies, rude and unrefined, yet
temperate, and conformable to the ancient Roman severity. He first
served as a soldier in the war against the Celtiberians, when Scipio
Africanus besieged Numantia; where he signalized himself to his general
by courage far above his comrades, and, particularly, by his cheerfully
complying with Scipio's reformation of his army, before almost ruined
by pleasures and luxury. It is stated, too, that he encountered and
vanquished an enemy in single combat, in his general's sight. In
consequence of all this he had several honors conferred upon him; and
once when at an entertainment a question arose about commanders, and
one of the company (whether really desirous to know, or only in
complaisance) asked Scipio where the Romans, after him, should obtain
such another general, Scipio, gently clapping Marius on the shoulder as
he sat next him, replied, "Here, perhaps." So promising was his early
youth of his future greatness, and so discerning was Scipio to detect
the distant future in the present first beginnings. It was this speech
of Scipio, we are told, which, like a divine admonition, chiefly
emboldened Marius to aspire to a political career. He sought, and by
the assistance of Caecilius Metellus, of whose family he as well as his
father were dependents, obtained the office of tribune of the people.
In which place, when he brought forward a bill for the regulation of
voting, which seemed likely to lessen the authority of the great men in
the courts of justice, the consul Cotta opposed him, and persuaded the
senate to declare against the law, and call Marius to account for it.
He, however, when this decree was prepared, coming into the senate, did
not behave like a young man newly and undeservedly advanced to
authority, but, assuming all the courage that his future actions would
have warranted, threatened Cotta unless he recalled the decree, to
throw him into prison. And on his turning to Metellus, and asking his
vote, and Metellus rising up to concur with the consul, Marius, calling
for the officer outside, commanded him to take Metellus into custody.
He appealed to the other tribunes, but not one of them assisted him; so
that the senate, immediately complying, withdrew the decree. Marius
came forth with glory to the people and confirmed his law, and was
henceforth esteemed a man of undaunted courage and assurance, as well
as a vigorous opposer of the senate in favor of the commons. But he
immediately lost their opinion of him by a contrary action; for when a
law for the distribution of corn was proposed, he vigorously and
successfully resisted it, making himself equally honored by both
parties, in gratifying neither, contrary to the public interest.
After his tribuneship, he was candidate for the office of chief aedile;
there being two orders of them, one the curules, from the stool with
crooked feet on which they sat when they performed their duty; the
other and inferior, called aediles of the people. As soon as they have
chosen the former, they give their voices again for the latter. Marius,
finding he was likely to be put by for the greater, immediately changed
and stood for the less; but because he seemed too forward and hot, he
was disappointed of that also. And yet though he was in one day twice
frustrated of his desired preferment, (which never happened to any
before,) yet he was not at all discouraged, but a little while after
sought for the praetorship, and was nearly suffering a repulse, and
then, too, though he was returned last of all, was nevertheless accused
of bribery.
Cassius Sabaco's servant, who was observed within the rails among those
that voted, chiefly occasioned the suspicion, as Sabaco was an intimate
friend of Marius; but on being called to appear before the judges, he
alleged, that being thirsty by reason of the heat, he called for cold
water, and that his servant brought him a cup, and as soon as he had
drunk, departed; he was, however, excluded from the senate by the
succeeding censors, and not undeservedly either, as was thought,
whether it might be for his false evidence, or his want of temperance.
Caius Herennius was also cited to appear as evidence, but pleaded that
it was not customary for a patron, (the Roman word for protector,) to
witness against his clients, and that the law excused them from that
harsh duty; and both Marius and his parents had always been clients to
the family of the Herennii. And when the judges would have accepted of
this plea, Marius himself opposed it, and told Herennius, that when he
was first created magistrate he ceased to be his client; which was not
altogether true. For it is not every office that frees clients and
their posterity from the observance due to their patrons, but only
those to which the law has assigned a curule chair. Notwithstanding,
though at the beginning of the suit it went somewhat hard with Marius,
and he found the judges no way favorable to him; yet, at last, their
voices being equal, contrary to all expectation, he was acquitted.
In his praetorship he did not get much honor, yet after it he obtained
the further Spain; which province he is said to have cleared of
robbers, with which it was much infested, the old barbarous habits
still prevailing, and the Spaniards, in those days, still regarding
robbery as a piece of valor. In the city he had neither riches nor
eloquence to trust to, with which the leading men of the time obtained
power with the people, but his vehement disposition, his indefatigable
labors, and his plain way of living, of themselves gained him esteem
and influence; so that he made an honorable match with Julia, of the
distinguished family of the Caesars, to whom that Caesar was nephew who
was afterwards so great among the Romans, and, in some degree, from his
relationship, made Marius his example, as in his life we have observed.
Marius is praised for both temperance and endurance, of which latter he
gave a decided instance in an operation of surgery. For having, as it
seems, both his legs full of great tumors, and disliking the deformity,
he determined to put himself into the hands of an operator; when,
without being tied, he stretched out one of his legs, and silently,
without changing countenance, endured most excessive torments in the
cutting, never either flinching or complaining; but when the surgeon
went to the other, he declined to have it done, saying, "I see the cure
is not worth the pain."
The consul Caecilius Metellus. being declared general in the war
against Jugurtha in Africa, took with him Marius for lieutenant; where,
eager himself to do great deeds and services that would get him
distinction, he did not, like others, consult Metellus's glory and the
serving his interest, and attributing his honor of lieutenancy not to
Metellus, but to fortune, which had presented him with a proper
opportunity and theater of great actions, he exerted his utmost
courage. That war, too, affording several difficulties, he neither
declined the greatest, nor disdained undertaking the least of them; but
surpassing his equals in counsel and conduct, and matching the very
common soldiers in labor and abstemiousness, he gained great popularity
with them; as indeed any voluntary partaking with people in their labor
is felt as an easing of that labor, as it seems to take away the
constraint and necessity of it. It is the most obliging sight in the
world to the Roman soldier to see a commander eat the same bread as
himself, or lie upon an ordinary bed, or assist the work in the drawing
a trench and raising a bulwark. For they do not so much admire those
that confer honors and riches upon them, as those that partake of the
same labor and danger with themselves; but love them better that will
vouchsafe to join in their work, than those that encourage their
idleness.
Marius thus employed, and thus winning the affections of the soldiers,
before long filled both Africa and Rome with his fame, and some, too,
wrote home from the army that the war with Africa would never be
brought to a conclusion, unless they chose Caius Marius consul. All
which was evidently unpleasing to Metellus; but what more especially
grieved him was the calamity of Turpillius. This Turpillius had, from
his ancestors, been a friend of Metellus, and kept up constant
hospitality with him; and was now serving in the war, in command of the
smiths and carpenters of the army. Having the charge of a garrison in
Vaga, a considerable city, and trusting too much to the inhabitants,
because he treated them civilly and kindly, he unawares fell into the
enemy's hands. They received Jugurtha into the city; yet, nevertheless,
at their request, Turpillius was dismissed safe and without receiving
any injury; whereupon he was accused of betraying it to the enemy.
Marius, being one of the council of war, was not only violent against
him himself, but also incensed most of the others, so that Metellus was
forced, much against his will, to put him to death. Not long after the
accusation proved false, and when others were comforting Metellus, who
took heavily the loss of his friend, Marius, rather insulting and
arrogating it to himself, boasted in all companies that he had involved
Metellus in the guilt of putting his friend to death.
Henceforward they were at open variance; and it is reported that
Metellus once, when Marius was present, said, insultingly, "You, sir,
design to leave us to go home and stand for the consulship, and will
not be content to wait and be consul with this boy of mine?" Metellus's
son being a mere boy at the time. Yet for all this Marius being very
importunate to be gone, after several delays, he was dismissed about
twelve days before the election of consuls; and performed that long
journey from the camp to the seaport of Utica, in two days and a night,
and there doing sacrifice before he went on shipboard, it is said the
augur told him, that heaven promised him some incredible good fortune,
and such as was beyond all expectation. Marius, not a little elated
with this good omen, began his voyage, and in four days, with a
favorable wind, passed the sea; he was welcomed with great joy by the
people, and being brought into the assembly by one of the tribunes,
sued for the consulship, inveighing in all ways against Metellus, and
promising either to slay Jugurtha or take him alive.
He was elected triumphantly, and at once proceeded to levy soldiers,
contrary both to law and custom, enlisting slaves and poor people;
whereas former commanders never accepted of such, but bestowed arms,
like other favors, as a matter of distinction, on persons who had the
proper qualification, a man's property being thus a sort of security
for his good behavior. These were not the only occasions of ill-will
against Marius; some haughty speeches, uttered with great arrogance and
contempt, gave great offense to the nobility; as, for example, his
saying that he had carried off the consulship as a spoil from the
effeminacy of the wealthy and high-born citizens, and telling the
people that he gloried in wounds he had himself received for them, as
much as others did in the monuments of dead men and images of their
ancestors. Often speaking of the commanders that had been unfortunate
in Africa, naming Bestia, for example, and Albinus, men of very good
families, but unfit for war, and who had miscarried through want of
experience, he asked the people about him, if they did not think that
the ancestors of these nobles had much rather have left a descendant
like him, since they themselves grew famous not by nobility, but by
their valor and great actions? This he did not say merely out of vanity
and arrogance, or that he were willing, without any advantage, to
offend the nobility; but the people always delighting in affronts and
scurrilous contumelies against the senate, making boldness of speech
their measure of greatness of spirit, continually encouraged him in it,
and strengthened his inclination not to spare persons of repute, so he
might gratify the multitude.
As soon as he arrived again in Africa, Metellus, no longer able to
control his feelings of jealousy, and his indignation that now when he
had really finished the war, and nothing was left but to secure the
person of Jugurtha, Marius, grown great merely through his ingratitude
to him, should come to bereave him both of his victory and triumph,
could not bear to have any interview with him; but retired himself,
whilst Rutilius, his lieutenant, surrendered up the army to Marius,
whose conduct, however, in the end of the war, met with some sort of
retribution, as Sylla deprived him of the glory of the action, as he
had done Metellus. I shall state the circumstances briefly here, as
they are given at large in the life of Sylla. Bocchus was king of the
more distant barbarians, and was father-in-law to Jugurtha, yet sent
him little or no assistance in his war, professing fears of his
unfaithfulness, and really jealous of his growing power; but after
Jugurtha fled, and in his distress came to him as his last hope, he
received him as a suppliant, rather because ashamed to do otherwise,
than out of real kindness; and when he had him in his power, he openly
entreated Marius on his behalf, and interceded for him with bold words,
giving out that he would by no means deliver him. Yet privately
designing to betray him, he sent for Lucius Sylla, quaestor to Marius,
and who had on a previous occasion befriended Bocchus in the war. When
Sylla, relying on his word, came to him, the African began to doubt and
repent of his purpose, and for several days was unresolved with
himself, whether he should deliver Jugurtha or retain Sylla; at length
he fixed upon his former treachery, and put Jugurtha alive into Sylla's
possession. Thus was the first occasion given of that fierce and
implacable hostility which so nearly ruined the whole Roman empire. For
many that envied Marius, attributed the success wholly to Sylla; and
Sylla himself got a seal made on which was engraved Bocchus betraying
Jugurtha to him, and constantly used it, irritating the hot and jealous
temper of Marius, who was naturally greedy of distinction, and quick to
resent any claim to share in his glory, and whose enemies took care to
promote the quarrel, ascribing the beginning and chief business of the
war to Metellus, and its conclusion to Sylla; that so the people might
give over admiring and esteeming Marius as the worthiest person.
But these envyings and calumnies were soon dispersed and cleared away
from Marius, by the danger that threatened Italy from the west; when
the city, in great need of a good commander, sought about whom she
might set at the helm, to meet the tempest of so great a war, no one
would have anything to say to any members of noble or potent families
who offered themselves for the consulship, and Marius, though then
absent, was elected.
Jugurtha's apprehension was only just known, when the news of the
invasion of the Teutones and Cimbri began. The accounts at first
exceeded all credit, as to the number and strength of the approaching
army; but in the end, report proved much inferior to the truth, as they
were three hundred thousand effective fighting men, besides a far
greater number of women and children. They professed to be seeking new
countries to sustain these great multitudes, and cities where they
might settle and inhabit, in the same way as they had heard the Celti
before them had driven out the Tyrrhenians, and possessed themselves of
the best part of Italy. Having had no commerce with the southern
nations, and traveling over a wide extent of country, no man knew what
people they were, or whence they came, that thus like a cloud burst
over Gaul and Italy; yet by their gray eyes and the largeness of their
stature, they were conjectured to be some of the German races dwelling
by the northern sea; besides that, the Germans call plunderers Cimbri.
There are some that say, that the country of the Celti, in its vast
size and extent, reaches from the furthest sea and the arctic regions
to the lake Maeotis eastward, and to that part of Scythia which is near
Pontus, and that there the nations mingle together; that they did not
swarm out of their country all at once, or on a sudden, but advancing
by force of arms, in the summer season, every year, in the course of
time they crossed the whole continent. And thus, though each party had
several appellations, yet the whole army was called by the common name
of Celto-Scythians. Others say that the Cimmerii, anciently known to
the Greeks, were only a small part of the nation, who were driven out
upon some quarrel among the Scythians, and passed all along from the
lake Maeotis to Asia, under the conduct of one Lygdamis; and that the
greater and more warlike part of them still inhabit the remotest
regions lying upon the outer ocean. These, they say, live in a dark and
woody country hardly penetrable by the sunbeams, the trees are so close
and thick, extending into the interior as far as the Hercynian forest;
and their position on the earth is under that part of heaven, where the
pole is so elevated, that by the declination of the parallels, the
zenith of the inhabitants seems to be but little distant from it; and
that their days and nights being almost of an equal length, they divide
their year into one of each. This was Homer's occasion for the story of
Ulysses calling up the dead, and from this region the people, anciently
called Cimmerii, and afterwards, by an easy change, Cimbri, came into
Italy. All this, however, is rather conjecture than an authentic
history.
Their numbers, most writers agree, were not less, but rather greater
than was reported. They were of invincible strength and fierceness in
their wars, and hurried into battle with the violence of a devouring
flame; none could withstand them; all they assaulted became their prey.
Several of the greatest Roman commanders with their whole armies, that
advanced for the defense of Transalpine Gaul, were ingloriously
overthrown, and, indeed, by their faint resistance, chiefly gave them
the impulse of marching towards Rome. Having vanquished all they had
met, and found abundance of plunder, they resolved to settle themselves
nowhere till they should have razed the city, and wasted all Italy. The
Romans, being from all parts alarmed with this news, sent for Marius to
undertake the war, and nominated him the second time consul, though the
law did not permit any one that was absent, or that had not waited a
certain time after his first consulship, to be again created. But the
people rejected all opposers; for they considered this was not the
first time that the law gave place to the common interest; nor the
present occasion less urgent than that when, contrary to law, they made
Scipio consul, not in fear for the destruction of their own city, but
desiring the ruin of that of the Carthaginians.
Thus it was decided; and Marius, bringing over his legions out of
Africa on the very first day of January, which the Romans count the
beginning of the year, received the consulship, and then, also, entered
in triumph, showing Jugurtha a prisoner to the people, a sight they had
despaired of ever beholding, nor could any, so long as he lived, hope
to reduce the enemy in Africa; so fertile in expedients was he to adapt
himself to every turn of fortune, and so bold as well as subtle. When,
however, he was led in triumph, it is said that he fell distracted, and
when he was afterwards thrown into prison, where some tore off his
clothes by force, and others, whilst they struggled for his golden
ear-ring, with it pulled off the tip of his ear, and when he was, after
this, cast naked into the dungeon, in his amazement and confusion, with
a ghastly laugh, he cried out, "O Hercules! how cold your bath is!"
Here for six days struggling with hunger, and to the very last minute
desirous of life, he was overtaken by the just reward of his
villainies. In this triumph was brought, as is stated, of gold three
thousand and seven pounds weight, of silver bullion five thousand seven
hundred and seventy-five, of money in gold and silver coin two hundred
and eighty-seven thousand drachmas. After the solemnity, Marius called
together the senate in the capitol, and entered, whether through
inadvertency or unbecoming exultation with his good fortune, in his
triumphal habit; but presently observing the senate offended at it,
went out, and returned in his ordinary purple-bordered robe.
On the expedition he carefully disciplined and trained his army whilst
on their way, giving them practice in long marches, and running of
every sort, and compelling every man to carry his own baggage and
prepare his own victuals; insomuch that thenceforward laborious
soldiers, who did their work silently without grumbling, had the name
of "Marius's mules." Some, however, think the proverb had a different
occasion; that when Scipio besieged Numantia, and was careful to
inspect not only their horses and arms, but their mules and carriages
too, and see how well equipped and in what readiness each one's was,
Marius brought forth his horse which he had fed extremely well, and a
mule in better case, stronger and gentler than those of others; that
the general was very well pleased, and often afterwards mentioned
Marius's beasts; and that hence the soldiers, when speaking jestingly
in the praise of a drudging, laborious fellow, called him Marius's mule.
But to proceed; very great good fortune seemed to attend Marius, for by
the enemy in a manner changing their course, and falling first upon
Spain, he had time to exercise his soldiers, and confirm their courage,
and, which was most important, to show them what he himself was. For
that fierce manner of his in command, and inexorableness in punishing,
when his men became used not to do amiss or disobey, was felt to be
wholesome and advantageous, as well as just, and his violent spirit,
stern voice, and harsh aspect, which in a little while grew familiar to
them, they esteemed terrible not to themselves, but only to their
enemies. But his uprightness in judging, more especially pleased the
soldiers, one remarkable instance of which is as follows. One Caius
Lusius, his own nephew, had a command under him in the army, a man not
in other respects of bad character, but shamefully licentious with
young men. He had one young man under his command called Trebonius,
with whom notwithstanding many solicitations he could never prevail. At
length one night, he sent a messenger for him, and Trebonius came, as
it was not lawful for him to refuse when he was sent for, and being
brought into his tent, when Lusius began to use violence with him, he
drew his sword and ran him through. This was done whilst Marius was
absent. When he returned, he appointed Trebonius a time for his trial,
where, whilst many accused him, and not any one appeared in his
defense, he himself boldly related the whole matter, and brought
witness of his previous conduct to Lusius, who had frequently offered
him considerable presents. Marius, admiring his conduct and much
pleased, commanded the garland, the usual Roman reward of valor, to be
brought, and himself crowned Trebonius with it, as having performed an
excellent action, at a time that very much wanted such good examples.
This being told at Rome, proved no small help to Marius towards his
third consulship; to which also conduced the expectation of the
barbarians at the summer season, the people being unwilling to trust
their fortunes with any other general but him. However, their arrival
was not so early as was imagined, and the time of Marius's consulship
was again expired. The election coming on, and his colleague being
dead, he left the command of the army to Manius Aquilius, and hastened
to Rome, where, several eminent persons being candidates for the
consulship, Lucius Saturninus, who more than any of the other tribunes
swayed the populace, and of whom Marius himself was very observant,
exerted his eloquence with the people, advising them to choose Marius
consul. He playing the modest part, and professing to decline the
office, Saturninus called him traitor to his country, if, in such
apparent danger, he would avoid command. And though it was not
difficult to discover that he was merely helping Marius in putting this
presence upon the people, yet, considering that the present juncture
much required his skill, and his good fortune too, they voted him the
fourth time consul, and made Catulus Lutatius his colleague, a man very
much esteemed by the nobility, and not unagreeable to the commons.
Marius, having notice of the enemy's approach, with all expedition
passed the Alps, and pitching his camp by the river Rhone, took care
first for plentiful supplies of victuals; lest at any time he should be
forced to fight at a disadvantage for want of necessaries. The carriage
of provision for the army from the sea, which was formerly long and
expensive, he made speedy and easy. For the mouth of the Rhone, by the
influx of the sea, being barred and almost filled up with sand and mud
mixed with clay, the passage there became narrow, difficult, and
dangerous for the ships that brought their provisions. Hither,
therefore, bringing his army, then at leisure, he drew a great trench;
and by turning the course of great part of the river, brought it to a
convenient point on the shore where the water was deep enough to
receive ships of considerable burden, and where there was a calm and
easy opening to the sea. And this still retains the name it took from
him.
The enemy dividing themselves into two parts, the Cimbri arranged to go
against Catulus higher up through the country of the Norici, and to
force that passage; the Teutones and Ambrones to march against Marius
by the sea-side through Liguria. The Cimbri were a considerable time in
doing their part. But the Teutones and Ambrones with all expedition
passing over the interjacent country, soon came in sight, in numbers
beyond belief, of a terrible aspect, and uttering strange cries and
shouts. Taking up a great part of the plain with their camp, they
challenged Marius to battle; he seemed to take no notice of them, but
kept his soldiers within their fortifications, and sharply reprehended
those that were too forward and eager to show their courage, and who,
out of passion, would needs be fighting, calling them traitors to their
country, and telling them they were not now to think of the glory of
triumphs and trophies, but rather how they might repel such an
impetuous tempest of war, and save Italy.
Thus he discoursed privately with his officers and equals, but placed
the soldiers by turns upon the bulwarks to survey the enemy, and so
made them familiar with their shape and voice, which were indeed
altogether extravagant and barbarous, and he caused them to observe
their arms, and way of using them, so that in a little time what at
first appeared terrible to their apprehensions, by often viewing,
became familiar. For he very rationally supposed, that the strangeness
of things often makes them seem formidable when they are not so; and
that by our better acquaintance, even things which are really terrible,
lose much of their frightfulness. This daily converse not only
diminished some of the soldiers' fear, but their indignation warmed and
inflamed their courage, when they heard the threats and insupportable
insolence of their enemies; who not only plundered and depopulated all
the country round, but would even contemptuously and confidently attack
the ramparts.
Complaints of the soldiers now began to come to Marius's ears. "What
effeminacy does Marius see in us, that he should thus like women lock
us up from encountering our enemies? Come on, let us show ourselves
men, and ask him if he expects others to fight for Italy; and means
merely to employ us in servile offices, when he would dig trenches,
cleanse places of mud and dirt, and turn the course of rivers? It was
to do such works as these, it seems, that he gave us all our long
training; he will return home, and boast of these great performances of
his consulships to the people. Does the defeat of Carbo and Caepio, who
were vanquished by the enemy, affright him? Surely they were much
inferior to Marius both in glory and valor, and commanded a much weaker
army; at the worst, it is better to be in action, though we suffer for
it like them, than to sit idle spectators of the destruction of our
allies and companions." Marius, not a little pleased to hear this,
gently appeased them, pretending that he did not distrust their valor,
but that he took his measures as to the time and place of victory from
some certain oracles.
And, in fact, he used solemnly to carry about in a litter, a Syrian
woman, called Martha, a supposed prophetess, and to do sacrifice by her
directions. She had formerly been driven away by the senate, to whom
she addressed herself, offering to inform them about these affairs, and
to foretell future events; and after this betook herself to the women,
and gave them proofs of her skill, especially Marius's wife, at whose
feet she sat when she was viewing a contest of gladiators, and
correctly foretold which of them should overcome. She was for this and
the like predictings sent by her to Marius and the army, where she was
very much looked up to, and, for the most part, carried about in a
litter. When she went to sacrifice, she wore a purple robe lined and
buckled up, and had in her hand a little spear trimmed with ribbons and
garlands. This theatrical show made many question, whether Marius
really gave any credit to her himself, or only played the counterfeit,
when he showed her publicly, to impose upon the soldiers.
What, however, Alexander the Myndian relates about the vultures, does
really deserve admiration; that always before Marius's victories there
appeared two of them, and accompanied the army, which were known by
their brazen collars, (the soldiers having caught them and put these
about their necks, and so let them go, from which time they in a manner
knew and saluted the soldiers,) and whenever these appeared in their
marches, they used to rejoice at it, and thought themselves sure of
some success. Of the many other prodigies that then were taken notice
of, the greater part were but of the ordinary stamp; it was, however,
reported that at Ameria and Tuder, two cities in Italy, there were seen
at nights in the sky, flaming darts and shields, now waved about, and
then again clashing against one another, all in accordance with the
postures and motions soldiers use in fighting; that at length one party
retreating, and the other pursuing, they all disappeared westward. Much
about the same time came Bataces, one of Cybele's priests, from
Pesinus, and reported how the goddess had declared to him out of her
oracle, that the Romans should obtain the victory. The senate giving
credit to him, and voting the goddess a temple to be built in hopes of
the victory, Aulus Pompeius, a tribune, prevented Bataces, when he
would have gone and told the people this same story, calling him
impostor, and ignominiously pulling him off the hustings; which action
in the end was the main thing that gained credit for the man's story,
for Aulus had scarce dissolved the assembly, and returned home, when a
violent fever seized him, and it was matter of universal remark, and in
everybody's mouth, that he died within a week after.
Now the Teutones, whilst Marius lay quiet, ventured to attack his camp;
from whence, however, being encountered with showers of darts, and
losing several of their men, they determined to march forward, hoping
to reach the other side of the Alps without opposition, and, packing up
their baggage, passed securely by the Roman camp, where the greatness
of their number was especially made evident by the long time they took
in their march, for they were said to be six days continually going on
in passing Marius's fortifications; they marched pretty near, and
revilingly asked the Romans if they would send any commands by them to
their wives, for they would shortly be with them. As soon as they were
passed and had gone on a little distance ahead, Marius began to move,
and follow them at his leisure, always encamping at some small distance
from them; choosing also strong positions, and carefully fortifying
them, that he might quarter with safety. Thus they marched till they
came to the place called Sextilius's Waters, from whence it was but a
short way before being amidst the Alps, and here Marius put himself in
readiness for the encounter.
He chose a place for his camp of considerable strength, but where there
was a scarcity of water; designing, it is said, by this means, also, to
put an edge on his soldiers' courage; and when several were not a
little distressed, and complained of thirst, pointing to a river that
ran near the enemy's camp: "There," said he, "you may have drink, if
you will buy it with your blood." "Why, then," replied they, "do you
not lead us to them, before our blood is dried up in us?" He answered,
in a softer tone, "let us first fortify our camp," and the soldiers,
though not without repining, proceeded to obey. Now a great company of
their boys and camp-followers, having neither drink for themselves nor
for their horses, went down to that river; some taking axes and
hatchets, and some, too, swords and darts with their pitchers,
resolving to have water though they fought for it. These were first
encountered by a small party of the enemies; for most of them had just
finished bathing, and were eating and drinking, and several were still
bathing, the country thereabouts abounding in hot springs; so that the
Romans partly fell upon them whilst they were enjoying themselves, and
occupied with the novel sights and pleasantness of the place. Upon
hearing the shouts, greater numbers still joining in the fight, it was
not a little difficult for Marius to contain his soldiers, who were
afraid of losing the camp-servants; and the more warlike part of the
enemies, who had overthrown Manlius and Caepio, (they were called
Ambrones, and were in number, one with another, above thirty thousand,)
taking the alarm, leaped up and hurried to arms.
These, though they had just been gorging themselves with food, and were
excited and disordered with drink, nevertheless did not advance with an
unruly step, or in mere senseless fury, nor were their shouts mere
inarticulate cries; but clashing their arms in concert, and keeping
time as they leapt and bounded onward, they continually repeated their
own name, "Ambrones!" either to encourage one another, or to strike the
greater terror into their enemies. Of all the Italians in Marius's
army, the Ligurians were the first that charged; and when they caught
the word of the enemy's confused shout, they, too, returned the same,
as it was an ancient name also in their country, the Ligurians always
using it when speaking of their descent. This acclamation, bandied from
one army to the other before they joined, served to rouse and heighten
their fury, while the men on either side strove, with all possible
vehemence, the one to overshout the other.
The river disordered the Ambrones; before they could draw up all their
army on the other side of it, the Ligurians presently fell upon the
van, and began to charge them hand to hand. The Romans, too, coming to
their assistance, and from the higher ground pouring upon the enemy,
forcibly repelled them, and the most of them (one thrusting another
into the river) were there slain, and filled it with their blood and
dead bodies. Those that got safe over, not daring to make head, were
slain by the Romans, as they fled to their camp and wagons; where the
women meeting them with swords and hatchets, and making a hideous
outcry, set upon those that fled as well as those that pursued, the one
as traitors, the other as enemies; and, mixing themselves with the
combatants, with their bare arms pulling away the Romans' shields, and
laying hold on their swords, endured the wounds and slashing of their
bodies to the very last, with undaunted resolution. Thus the battle
seems to have happened at that river rather by accident than by the
design of the general.
After the Romans were retired from the great slaughter of the Ambrones,
night came on; but the army was not indulged, as was the usual custom,
with songs of victory, drinking in their tents, and mutual
entertainments, and (what is most welcome to soldiers after successful
fighting) quiet sleep, but they passed that night, above all others, in
fears and alarm. For their camp was without either rampart or palisade,
and there remained thousands upon thousands of their enemies yet
unconquered; to whom were joined as many of the Ambrones as escaped.
There were heard from these, all through the night, wild bewailings,
nothing like the sighs and groans of men, but a sort of wild-beastlike
howling and roaring, joined with threats and lamentations rising from
the vast multitude, and echoed among the neighboring hills and hollow
banks of the river. The whole plain was filled with hideous noise,
insomuch that the Romans were not a little afraid, and Marius himself
was apprehensive of a confused tumultuous night engagement. But the
enemy did not stir either this night or the next day, but were employed
in disposing and drawing themselves up to the greatest advantage.
Of this occasion Marius made good use; for there were beyond the
enemies some wooded ascents and deep valleys thickly set with trees,
whither he sent Claudius Marcellus, secretly, with three thousand
regular soldiers, giving him orders to post them in ambush there, and
show themselves at the rear of the enemies, when the fight was begun.
The others, refreshed with victuals and sleep, as soon as it was day he
drew up before the camp, and commanded the horse to sally out into the
plain, at the sight of which the Teutones could not contain themselves
till the Romans should come down and fight them on equal terms, but
hastily arming themselves, charged in their fury up the hill-side.
Marius, sending officers to all parts, commanded his men to stand still
and keep their ground; when they came within reach, to throw their
javelins, then use their swords, and, joining their shields, force them
back; pointing out to them that the steepness of the ground would
render the enemy's blows inefficient, nor could their shields be kept
close together, the inequality of the ground hindering the stability of
their footing.
This counsel he gave them, and was the first that followed it; for he
was inferior to none in the use of his body, and far excelled all in
resolution. The Romans accordingly stood for their approach, and,
checking them in their advance upwards, forced them little by little to
give way and yield down the hill, and here, on the level ground no
sooner had the Ambrones begun to restore their van into a posture of
resistance, but they found their rear disordered. For Marcellus had not
let slip the opportunity; but as soon as the shout was raised among the
Romans on the hills, he, setting his men in motion, fell in upon the
enemy behind, at full speed, and with loud cries, and routed those
nearest him, and they, breaking the ranks of those that were before
them, filled the whole army with confusion. They made no long
resistance after they were thus broke in upon, but having lost all
order, fled.
The Romans, pursuing them, slew and took prisoners above one hundred
thousand, and possessing themselves of their spoil, tents, and
carriages, voted all that was not purloined to Marius's share, which,
though so magnificent a present, yet was generally thought less than
his conduct deserved in so great a danger. Other authors give a
different account, both about the division of the plunder and the
number of the slain. They say, however, that the inhabitants of
Massilia made fences round their vineyards with the bones, and that the
ground, enriched by the moisture of the putrefied bodies, (which soaked
in with the rain of the following winter,) yielded at the season a
prodigious crop, and fully justified Archilochus, who said, that the
fallows thus are fattened. It is an observation, also, that
extraordinary rains pretty generally fall after great battles; whether
it be that some divine power thus washes and cleanses the polluted
earth with showers from above, or that moist and heavy evaporations,
steaming forth from the blood and corruption, thicken the air, which
naturally is subject to alteration from the smallest causes.
After the battle, Marius chose out from amongst the barbarians' spoils
and arms, those that were whole and handsome, and that would make the
greatest show in his triumph; the rest he heaped upon a large pile, and
offered a very splendid sacrifice. Whilst the army stood round about
with their arms and garlands, himself attired (as the fashion is on
such occasions) in the purple-bordered robe, taking a lighted torch,
and with both hands lifting it up towards heaven, he was then going to
put it to the pile, when some friends were espied with all haste coming
towards him on horseback. Upon which every one remained in silence and
expectation. They, upon their coming up, leapt off and saluted Marius,
bringing him the news of his fifth consulship, and delivered him
letters to that effect. This gave the addition of no small joy to the
solemnity; and while the soldiers clashed their arms and shouted, the
officers again crowned Marius with a laurel-wreath, and he thus set
fire to the pile, and finished his sacrifice.
But whatever it be, which interferes to prevent the enjoyment of
prosperity ever being pure and sincere, and still diversifies human
affairs with the mixture of good and bad, whether fortune or divine
displeasure, or the necessity of the nature of things, within a few
days Marius received an account of his colleague, Catulus, which as a
cloud in serenity and calm, terrified Rome with the apprehension of
another imminent storm. Catulus, who marched against the Cimbri,
despairing of being able to defend the passes of the Alps, lest, being
compelled to divide his forces into several parties, he should weaken
himself, descended again into Italy, and posted his army behind the
river Adige; where he occupied the passages with strong fortifications
on both sides the river, and made a bridge, that so he might cross to
the assistance of his men on the other side, if so be the enemy, having
forced their way through the mountain passes, should storm the
fortresses. The barbarians, however, came on with such insolence and
contempt of their enemies, that to show their strength and courage,
rather than out of any necessity, they went naked in the showers of
snow, and through the ice and deep snow climbed up to the tops of the
hills, and from thence, placing their broad shields under their bodies,
let themselves slide from the precipices along their vast slippery
descents.
When they had pitched their camp at a little distance from the river,
and surveyed the passage, they began to pile it up, giant-like, tearing
down the neighboring hills; and brought trees pulled up by the roots,
and heaps of earth to the river, damming up its course; and with great
heavy materials which they rolled down the stream and dashed against
the bridge, they forced away the beams which supported it; in
consequence of which the greatest part of the Roman soldiers, much
affrighted, left the large camp and fled. Here Catulus showed himself a
generous and noble general, in preferring the glory of his people
before his own; for when he could not prevail with his soldiers to
stand to their colors, but saw how they all deserted them, he commanded
his own standard to be taken up, and running to the foremost of those
that fled, he led them forward, choosing rather that the disgrace
should fall upon himself than upon his country, and that they should
not seem to fly, but, following their captain, to make a retreat. The
barbarians assaulted and took the fortress on the other side the Adige;
where much admiring the few Romans there left, who had shown extreme
courage, and had fought worthily of their country, they dismissed them
upon terms, swearing them upon their brazen bull, which was afterwards
taken in the battle, and carried, they say, to Catulus's house, as the
chief trophy of victory.
Thus falling in upon the country destitute of defense, they wasted it
on all sides. Marius was presently sent for to the city; where, when he
arrived, every one supposing he would triumph, the senate, too,
unanimously voting it, he himself did not think it convenient; whether
that he were not willing to deprive his soldiers and officers of their
share of the glory, or that to encourage the people in this juncture,
he would leave the honor due to his past victory on trust, as it were,
in the hands of the city and its future fortune; deferring it now, to
receive it afterwards with the greater splendor. Having left such
orders as the occasion required, he hastened to Catulus, whose drooping
spirits he much raised, and sent for his own army from Gaul: and as
soon as it came, passing the river Po, he endeavored to keep the
barbarians out of that part of Italy which lies south of it.
They professed they were in expectation of the Teutones, and, saying
they wondered they were so long in coming, deferred the battle; either
that they were really ignorant of their defeat, or were willing to seem
so. For they certainly much maltreated those that brought them such
news, and, sending to Marius, required some part of the country for
themselves and their brethren, and cities fit for them to inhabit. When
Marius inquired of the ambassadors who their brethren were, upon their
saying, the Teutones, all that were present began to laugh; and Marius
scoffingly answered them, "Do not trouble yourselves for your brethren,
for we have already provided lands for them, which they shall possess
forever." The ambassadors, understanding the mockery, broke into
insults, and threatened that the Cimbri would make him pay for this,
and the Teutones, too, when they came. "They are not far off," replied
Marius, "and it will be unkindly done of you to go away before greeting
your brethren." Saying so, he commanded the kings of the Teutones to be
brought out. as they were, in chains; for they were taken by the
Sequani among the Alps, before they could make their escape. This was
no sooner made known to the Cimbri, but they with all expedition came
against Marius, who then lay still and guarded his camp.
It is said, that against this battle, Marius first altered the
construction of the Roman javelins. For before, at the place where the
wood was joined to the iron, it was made fast with two iron pins; but
now Marius let one of them alone as it was, and pulling out the other,
put a weak wooden peg in its place, thus contriving, that when it was
driven into the enemy's shield, it should not stand right out, but the
wooden peg breaking, the iron should bend, and so the javelin should
hold fast by its crooked point, and drag. Boeorix, king of the Cimbri,
came with a small party of horse to the Roman camp, and challenged
Marius to appoint the time and place, where they might meet and fight
for the country. Marius answered, that the Romans never consulted their
enemies when to fight; however, he would gratify the Cimbri so far; and
so they fixed upon the third day after, and for the place, the plain
near Vercellae, which was convenient enough for the Roman horse, and
afforded room for the enemy to display their numbers.
They observed the time appointed, and drew out their forces against
each other. Catulus commanded twenty thousand three hundred, and Marius
thirty-two thousand, who were placed in the two wings, leaving Catulus
the center. Sylla, who was present at the fight, gives this account;
saying, also, that Marius drew up his army in this order, because he
expected that the armies would meet on the wings, since it generally
happens that in such extensive fronts the center falls back, and thus
he would have the whole victory to himself and his soldiers, and
Catulus would not be even engaged. They tell us, also, that Catulus
himself alleged this in vindication of his honor, accusing, in various
ways, the enviousness of Marius. The infantry of the Cimbri marched
quietly out of their fortifications, having their flanks equal to their
front; every side of the army taking up thirty furlongs. Their horse,
that were in number fifteen thousand, made a very splendid appearance.
They wore helmets, made to resemble the heads and jaws of wild beasts,
and other strange shapes, and heightening these with plumes of
feathers, they made themselves appear taller than they were. They had
breastplates of iron, and white glittering shields; and for their
offensive arms, every one had two darts, and when they came hand to
hand, they used large and heavy swords.
The cavalry did not fall directly upon the front of the Romans, but,
turning to the right, they endeavored to draw them on in that direction
by little and little, so as to get them between themselves and their
infantry, who were placed in the left wing. The Roman commanders soon
perceived the design, but could not contain the soldiers; for one
happening to shout out that the enemy fled, they all rushed to pursue
them, while the whole barbarian foot came on, moving like a great
ocean. Here Marius, having washed his hands, and lifting them up
towards heaven, vowed an hecatomb to the gods; and Catulus, too, in the
same posture, solemnly promised to consecrate a temple to the "Fortune
of that day." They say, too, that Marius, having the victim showed to
him as he was sacrificing, cried out with a loud voice, "the victory is
mine."
However, in the engagement, according to the accounts of Sylla and his
friends, Marius met with what might be called a mark of divine
displeasure. For a great dust being raised, which (as it might very
probably happen) almost covered both the armies, he, leading on his
forces to the pursuit, missed the enemy, and having passed by their
array, moved, for a good space, up and down the field; meanwhile the
enemy, by chance, engaged with Catulus, and the heat of the battle was
chiefly with him and his men, among whom Sylla says he was; adding,
that the Romans had great advantage of the heat and sun that shone in
the faces of the Cimbri. For they, well able to endure cold, and having
been bred up, (as we observed before,) in cold and shady countries,
were overcome with the excessive heat; they sweated extremely, and were
much out of breath, being forced to hold their shields before their
faces; for the battle was fought not long after the summer solstice,
or, as the Romans reckon, upon the third day before the new moon of the
month now called August, and then Sextilis. The dust, too, gave the
Romans no small addition to their courage, inasmuch as it hid the
enemy. For afar off they could not discover their number; but every one
advancing to encounter those that were nearest to them, they came to
fight hand to hand, before the sight of so vast a multitude had struck
terror into them. They were so much used to labor, and so well
exercised, that in all the heat and toil of the encounter, not one of
them was observed either to sweat, or to be out of breath; so much so,
that Catulus himself, they say, recorded it in commendation of his
soldiers.
Here the greatest part and most valiant of the enemies were cut in
pieces; for those that fought in the front, that they might not break
their ranks, were fast tied to one another, with long chains put
through their belts. But as they pursued those that fled to their camp,
they witnessed a most fearful tragedy; the women, standing in black
clothes on their wagons, slew all that fled, some their husbands, some
their brethren, others their fathers; and strangling their little
children with their own hands, threw them under the wheels, and the
feet of the cattle, and then killed themselves. They tell of one who
hung herself from the end of the pole of a wagon, with her children
tied dangling at her heels. The men, for want of trees, tied
themselves, some to the horns of the oxen, others by the neck to their
legs, that so pricking them on, by the starting and springing of the
beasts, they might be torn and trodden to pieces. Yet for all they thus
massacred themselves, above sixty thousand were taken prisoners, and
those that were slain were said to be twice as many.
The ordinary plunder was taken by Marius's soldiers, but the other
spoils, as ensigns, trumpets, and the like, they say, were brought to
Catulus's camp; which he used for the best argument that the victory
was obtained by himself and his army. Some dissensions arising, as was
natural, among the soldiers, the deputies from Parma being then
present, were made judges of the controversy; whom Catulus's men
carried about among their slain enemies, and manifestly showed them
that they were slain by their javelins, which were known by the
inscriptions, having Catulus's name cut in the wood. Nevertheless, the
whole glory of the action was ascribed to Marius, on account of his
former victory, and under color of his present authority; the populace
more especially styling him the third founder of their city, as having
diverted a danger no less threatening than was that when the Gauls
sacked Rome; and every one, in their feasts and rejoicings at home with
their wives and children, made offerings and libations in honor of "The
Gods and Marius;" and would have had him solely have the honor of both
the triumphs. However, he did not do so, but triumphed together with
Catulus, being desirous to show his moderation even in such great
circumstances of good fortune, besides, he was not a little afraid of
the soldiers in Catulus's army, lest, if he should wholly bereave their
general of the honor, they should endeavor to hinder him of his triumph.
Marius was now in his fifth consulship, and he sued for his sixth in
such a manner as never any man before him, had done, even for his
first; he courted the people's favor and ingratiated himself with the
multitude by every sort of complaisance; not only derogating from the
state and dignity of his office, but also belying his own character, by
attempting to seem popular and obliging, for which nature had never
designed him. His passion for distinction did, indeed, they say, make
him exceedingly timorous in any political matters, or in confronting
public assemblies; and that undaunted presence of mind he always showed
in battle against the enemy, forsook him when he was to address the
people; he was easily upset by the most ordinary commendation or
dispraise. It is told of him, that having at one time given the freedom
of the city to one thousand men of Camerinum who had behaved valiantly
in this war, and this seeming to be illegally done, upon some one or
other calling him to an account for it, he answered, that the law spoke
too softly to be heard in such a noise of war; yet he himself appeared
to be more disconcerted and overcome by the clamor made in the
assemblies. The need they had of him in time of war procured him power
and dignity; but in civil affairs, when he despaired of getting the
first place, he was forced to betake himself to the favor of the
people, never caring to be a good man, so that he were but a great one.
He thus became very odious to all the nobility; and, above all, he
feared Metellus, who had been so ungratefully used by him, and whose
true virtue made him naturally an enemy to those that sought influence
with the people, not by the honorable course, but by subservience and
complaisance. Marius, therefore, endeavored to banish him from the
city, and for this purpose he contracted a close alliance with Glaucia
and Saturninus, a couple of daring fellows, who had the great mass of
the indigent and seditious multitude at their control; and by their
assistance he enacted various laws, and bringing the soldiers, also, to
attend the assembly, he was enabled to overpower Metellus. And as
Rutilius relates, (in all other respects a fair and faithful authority,
but, indeed, privately an enemy to Marius,) he obtained his sixth
consulship by distributing vast sums of money among the tribes, and by
this bribery kept out Metellus, and had Valerius Flaccus given him as
his instrument, rather than his colleague, in the consulship. The
people had never before bestowed so many consulships on any one man,
except on Valerius Corvinus only, and he, too, they say, was forty-five
years between his first and last; but Marius, from his first, ran
through five more, with one current of good fortune.
In the last, especially, he contracted a great deal of hatred, by
committing several gross misdemeanors in compliance with the desires of
Saturninus; among which was the murder of Nonius, whom Saturninus slew,
because he stood in competition with him for the tribuneship. And when,
afterwards, Saturninus, on becoming tribune, brought forward his law
for the division of lands, with a clause enacting that the senate
should publicly swear to confirm whatever the people should vote, and
not to oppose them in anything, Marius, in the senate, cunningly
feigned to be against this provision, and said that he would not take
any such oath, nor would any man, he thought, who was wise; for if
there were no ill design in the law, still it would be an affront to
the senate, to be compelled to give their approbation, and not to do it
willingly and upon persuasion. This he said, not that it was agreeable
to his own sentiments, but that he might entrap Metellus beyond any
possibility of escape. For Marius, in whose ideas virtue and capacity
consisted largely in deceit, made very little account of what he had
openly professed to the senate; and knowing that Metellus was one of a
fixed resolution, and, as Pindar has it, esteemed Truth the first
principle of heroic virtue; he hoped to ensnare him into a declaration
before the senate, and on his refusing, as he was sure to do,
afterwards to take the oath, he expected to bring him into such odium
with the people, as should never be wiped off. The design succeeded to
his wish. As soon as Metellus had declared that he would not swear to
it, the senate adjourned. A few days after, on Saturninus citing the
senators to make their appearance, and take the oath before the people,
Marius stepped forth, amidst a profound silence, every one being intent
to hear him, and bidding farewell to those fine speeches he had before
made in the senate, said, that his back was not so broad that he should
think himself bound, once for all, by any opinion once given on so
important a matter; he would willingly swear and submit to the law, if
so be it were one, a proviso which he added as a mere cover for his
effrontery. The people, in great joy at his taking the oath, loudly
clapped and applauded him, while the nobility stood by ashamed and
vexed at his inconstancy; but they submitted out of fear of the people,
and all in order took the oath, till it came to Metellus's turn. But
he, though his friends begged and entreated him to take it, and not to
plunge himself irrecoverably into the penalties which Saturninus had
provided for those that should refuse it, would not flinch from his
resolution, nor swear; but, according to his fixed custom, being ready
to suffer anything rather than do a base, unworthy action, he left the
forum, telling those that were with him, that to do a wrong thing is
base, and to do well where there is no danger, common; the good man's
characteristic is to do so, where there is danger.
Hereupon Saturninus put it to the vote, that the consuls should place
Metellus under their interdict, and forbid him fire, water, and
lodging. There were enough, too, of the basest of people ready to kill
him. Nevertheless, when many of the better sort were extremely
concerned, and gathered about Metellus, he would not suffer them to
raise a sedition upon his account, but with this calm reflection left
the city, "Either when the posture of affairs is mended and the people
repent, I shall be recalled, or if things remain in their present
condition, it will be best to be absent." But what great favor and
honor Metellus received in his banishment, and in what manner he spent
his time at Rhodes, in philosophy, will be more fitly our subject, when
we write his life.
Marius, in return for this piece of service, was forced to connive at
Saturninus, now proceeding to the very height of insolence and
violence, and was, without knowing it, the instrument of mischief
beyond endurance, the only course of which was through outrages and
massacres to tyranny and the subversion of the government. Standing in
some awe of the nobility, and, at the same time, eager to court the
commonalty, he was guilty of a most mean and dishonest action. When
some of the great men came to him at night to stir him up against
Saturninus, at the other door, unknown to them, he let him in; then
making the same presence of some disorder of body to both, he ran from
one party to the other, and staying at one time with them and another
with him, he instigated and exasperated them one against another. At
length when the senate and equestrian order concerted measures
together, and openly manifested their resentment, he did bring his
soldiers into the forum, and driving the insurgents into the capitol,
and then cutting off the conduits, forced them to surrender by want of
water. They, in this distress, addressing themselves to him,
surrendered, as it is termed, on the public faith. He did his utmost to
save their lives, but so wholly in vain, that when they came down into
the forum, they were all basely murdered. Thus he had made himself
equally odious both to the nobility and commons, and when the time was
come to create censors, though he was the most obvious man, yet he did
not petition for it; but fearing the disgrace of being repulsed,
permitted others, his inferiors, to be elected, though he pleased
himself by giving out, that he was not willing to disoblige too many by
undertaking a severe inspection into their lives and conduct.
There was now an edict preferred to recall Metellus from banishment;
this he vigorously, but in vain, opposed both by word and deed, and was
at length obliged to desist. The people unanimously voted for it; and
he, not able to endure the sight of Metellus's return, made a voyage to
Cappadocia and Galatia; giving out that he had to perform the
sacrifices, which he had vowed to Cybele; but actuated really by other
less apparent reasons. For, in fact, being a man altogether ignorant of
civil life and ordinary politics, he received all his advancement from
war; and supposing his power and glory would by little and little
decrease by his lying quietly out of action, he was eager by every
means to excite some new commotions, and hoped that by setting at
variance some of the kings, and by exasperating Mithridates,
especially, who was then apparently making preparations for war, he
himself should be chosen general against him, and so furnish the city
with new matter of triumph, and his own house with the plunder of
Pontus, and the riches of its king. Therefore, though Mithridates
entertained him with all imaginable attention and respect, yet he was
not at all wrought upon or softened by it, but said, "O king, either
endeavor to be stronger than the Romans, or else quietly submit to
their commands." With which he left Mithridates astonished, as he
indeed had often heard the fame of the bold speaking of the Romans, but
now for the first time experienced it.
When Marius returned again to Rome, he built a house close by the
forum, either, as he himself gave out, that he was not willing his
clients should be tired with going far, or that he imagined distance
was the reason why more did not come. This, however, was not so; the
real reason was, that being inferior to others in agreeableness of
conversation and the arts of political life, like a mere tool and
implement of war, he was thrown aside in time of peace. Amongst all
those whose brightness eclipsed his glory, he was most incensed against
Sylla, who had owed his rise to the hatred which the nobility bore
Marius; and had made his disagreement with him the one principle of his
political life. When Bocchus, king of Numidia, who was styled the
associate of the Romans, dedicated some figures of Victory in the
capitol, and with them a representation in gold, of himself delivering
Jugurtha to Sylla, Marius upon this was almost distracted with rage and
ambition, as though Sylla had arrogated this honor to himself, and
endeavored forcibly to pull down these presents; Sylla, on the other
side, as vigorously resisted him; but the Social War then on a sudden
threatening the city, put a stop to this sedition, when just ready to
break out. For the most warlike and best-peopled countries of all Italy
formed a confederacy together against Rome, and were within a little of
subverting the empire; as they were indeed strong, not only in their
weapons and the valor of their soldiers, but stood nearly upon equal
terms with the Romans, as to the skill and daring of their commanders.
As much glory and power as this war, so various in its events and so
uncertain as to its success, conferred upon Sylla, so much it took away
from Marius, who was thought tardy, unenterprising, and timid, whether
it were that his age was now quenching his former heat and vigor, (for
he was above sixty-five years old,) or that having, as he himself said,
some distemper that affected his muscles, and his body being unfit for
action, he did service above his strength. Yet, for all this, he came
off victor in a considerable battle, wherein he slew six thousand of
the enemies, and never once gave them any advantage over him; and when
he was surrounded by the works of the enemy, he contained himself, and
though insulted over, and challenged, did not yield to the provocation.
The story is told that when Publius Silo, a man of the greatest repute
and authority among the enemies, said to him, "If you are indeed a
great general, Marius, leave your camp and fight a battle," he replied,
"If you are one, make me do so." And another time, when the enemy gave
them a good opportunity of a battle, and the Romans through fear durst
not charge, so that both parties retreated, he called an assembly of
his soldiers and said, "It is no small question whether I should call
the enemies, or you, the greater cowards, for neither did they dare to
face your backs, nor you to confront theirs." At length, professing to
be worn out with the infirmity of his body, he laid down his command.
Afterwards, when the Italians were worsted, there were several
candidates suing, with the aid of the popular leaders, for the chief
command in the war with Mithridates. Sulpicius, tribune of the people,
a bold and confident man, contrary to everybody's expectation, brought
forward Marius, and proposed him as proconsul and general in that war.
The people were divided; some were on Marius's side, others voted for
Sylla, and jeeringly bade Marius go to his baths at Baiae, to cure his
body, worn out, as himself confessed, with age and catarrhs. Marius
had, indeed, there, about Misenum, a villa more effeminately and
luxuriously furnished than seemed to become one that had seen service
in so many and great wars and expeditions. This same house Cornelia
bought for seventy-five thousand drachmas, and not long after Lucius
Lucullus, for two million five hundred thousand; so rapid and so great
was the growth of Roman sumptuosity. Yet, in spite of all this, out of
a mere boyish passion for distinction, affecting to shake off his age
and weakness, he went down daily to the Campus Martius, and exercising
himself with the youth, showed himself still nimble in his armor, and
expert in riding; though he was undoubtedly grown bulky in his old age,
and inclining to excessive fatness and corpulency.
Some people were pleased with this, and went continually to see him
competing and displaying himself in these exercises; but the better
sort that saw him, pitied the cupidity and ambition that made one who
had risen from utter poverty to extreme wealth, and out of nothing into
greatness, unwilling to admit any limit to his high fortune, or to be
content with being admired, and quietly enjoying what he had already
got: why, as if he still were indigent, should he at so great an age
leave his glory and his triumphs to go into Cappadocia and the Euxine
Sea, to fight Archelaus and Neoptolemus, Mithridates's generals?
Marius's pretenses for this action of his seemed very ridiculous; for
he said he wanted to go and teach his son to be a general.
The condition of the city, which had long been unsound and diseased,
became hopeless now that Marius found so opportune an instrument for
the public destruction as Sulpicius's insolence. This man professed, in
all other respects, to admire and imitate Saturninus; only he found
fault with him for backwardness and want of spirit in his designs. He,
therefore, to avoid this fault, got six hundred of the equestrian order
about him as his guard, whom he named anti-senators; and with these
confederates he set upon the consuls, whilst they were at the assembly,
and took the son of one of them, who fled from the forum, and slew him.
Sylla, being hotly pursued, took refuge in Marius's house, which none
could suspect, by that means escaping those that sought him, who
hastily passed by there, and, it is said, was safely conveyed by Marius
himself out at the other door, and came to the camp. Yet Sylla, in his
memoirs, positively denies that he fled to Marius, saying he was
carried thither to consult upon the matters to which Sulpicius would
have forced him, against his will, to consent; that he, surrounding him
with drawn swords, hurried him to Marius, and constrained him thus,
till he went thence to the forum and removed, as they required him to
do, the interdict on business.
Sulpicius, having thus obtained the mastery, decreed the command of the
army to Marius, who proceeded to make preparations for his march, and
sent two tribunes to receive the charge of the army from Sylla. Sylla
hereupon exasperating his soldiers, who were about thirty-five thousand
full-armed men, led them towards Rome. First falling upon the tribunes
Marius had sent, they slew them; Marius having done as much for several
of Sylla's friends in Rome, and now offering their freedom to the
slaves on condition of their assistance in the war; of whom, however,
they say, there were but three who accepted his proposal. For some
small time he made head against Sylla's assault, but was soon
overpowered and fled; those that were with him, as soon as he had
escaped out of the city, were dispersed, and night coming on, he
hastened to a country-house of his, called Solonium. Hence he sent his
son to some neighboring farms of his father-in-law, Mucius, to provide
necessaries; he went himself to Ostia, where his friend Numerius had
prepared him a ship, and hence, not staying for his son, he took with
him his son-in-law Granius, and weighed anchor.
Young Marius, coming to Mucius's farms, made his preparations; and the
day breaking, was almost discovered by the enemy. For there came
thither a party of horse that suspected some such matter; but the farm
steward, foreseeing their approach, hid Marius in a cart full of beans,
then yoking in his team and driving toward the city, met those that
were in search of him. Marius, thus conveyed home to his wife, took
with him some necessaries, and came at night to the sea-side; where,
going on board a ship that was bound for Africa, he went away thither.
Marius, the father, when he had put to sea, with a strong gale passing
along the coast of Italy, was in no small apprehension of one Geminius,
a great man at Terracina, and his enemy; and therefore bade the seamen
hold off from that place. They were, indeed, willing to gratify him,
but the wind now blowing in from the sea, and making the waves swell to
a great height, they were afraid the ship would not be able to weather
out the storm, and Marius, too, being indisposed and seasick, they made
for land, and not without some difficulty reached the shore near
Circeium.
The storm now increasing and their victuals failing, they left their
ship and wandered up and down without any certain purpose, simply as in
great distresses people shun the present as the greatest evil, and rely
upon the hopes of uncertainties. For the land and sea were both equally
unsafe for them; it was dangerous to meet with people, and it was no
less so to meet with none, on account of their want of necessaries. At
length, though late, they lighted upon a few poor shepherds, that had
not anything to relieve them; but knowing Marius, advised him to depart
as soon as might be, for they had seen a little beyond that place a
party of horse that were gone in search of him. Finding himself in a
great straight, especially because those that attended him were not
able to go further, being spent with their long fasting, for the
present he turned aside out of the road, and hid himself in a thick
wood, where he passed the night in great wretchedness. The next day,
pinched with hunger, and willing to make use of the little strength he
had, before it were all exhausted, he traveled by the seaside,
encouraging his companions not to fall away from him before the
fulfillment of his final hopes, for which, in reliance on some old
predictions, he professed to be sustaining himself. For when he was yet
but very young, and lived in the country, he caught in the skirt of his
garment an eagle's nest, as it was falling, in which were seven young
ones, which his parents seeing and much admiring, consulted the augurs
about it, who told them that he should become the greatest man in the
world, and that the fates had decreed he should seven times be
possessed of the supreme power and authority. Some are of opinion that
this really happened to Marius, as we have related it; others say, that
those who then and through the rest of his exile heard him tell these
stories, and believed him, have merely repeated a story that is
altogether fabulous; for an eagle never hatches more than two; and even
Musaeus was deceived, who, speaking of the eagle, says that, --
"She lays three eggs, hatches two, and rears one."
However this be, it is certain Marius, in his exile and greatest
extremities, would often say, that he should attain a seventh
consulship.
When Marius and his company were now about twenty furlongs distant from
Minturnae, a city in Italy, they espied a troop, of horse making up
toward them with all speed, and by chance, also, at the same time, two
ships under sail. Accordingly, they ran every one with what speed and
strength they could to the sea, and plunging into it, swam to the
ships. Those that were with Granius, reaching one of them, passed over
to an island opposite, called Aenaria; Marius himself whose body was
heavy and unwieldy, was with great pains and difficulty kept above the
water by two servants, and put into the other ship. The soldiers were
by this time come to the seaside, and from thence called out to the
seamen to put to shore, or else to throw out Marius, and then they
might go whither they would. Marius besought them with tears to the
contrary, and the masters of the ship, after frequent changes, in a
short space of time, of their purpose, inclining, first to one, then to
the other side, resolved at length to answer the soldiers, that they
would not give up Marius. As soon as they had ridden off in a rage, the
seamen, again changing their resolution, came to land, and casting
anchor at the mouth of the river Liris, where it overflows and makes a
great marsh, they advised him to land, refresh himself on shore, and
take some care of his discomposed body, till the wind came fairer;
which, said they, will happen at such an hour, when the wind from the
sea will calm, and that from the marshes rise. Marius, following their
advice, did so, and when the sea-men had set him on shore, he laid him
down in an adjacent field, suspecting nothing less than what was to
befall him. They, as soon as they had got into the ship, weighed anchor
and departed, as thinking it neither honorable to deliver Marius into
the hands of those that sought him, nor safe to protect him.
He thus, deserted by all, lay a good while silently on the shore; at
length collecting himself, he advanced with pain and difficulty,
without any path, till, wading through deep bogs and ditches full of
water and mud, he came upon the hut of an old man that worked in the
fens, and falling at his feet besought him to assist and preserve one
who, if he escaped the present danger, would make him returns beyond
his expectation. The poor man, whether he had formerly known him, or
were then moved with his superior aspect, told him that if he wanted
only rest, his cottage would be convenient; but if he were flying from
anybody's search, he would hide him in a more retired place. Marius
desiring him to do so, he carried him into the fens and bade him hide
himself in an hollow place by the river side, where he laid upon him a
great many reeds, and other things that were light, and would cover,
but not oppress him. But within a very short time he was disturbed with
a noise and tumult from the cottage, for Geminius had sent several from
Terracina in pursuit of him; some of whom, happening to come that way,
frightened and threatened the old man for having entertained and hid an
enemy of the Romans. Wherefore Marius, arising and stripping himself,
plunged into a puddle full of thick muddy water; and even there he
could not escape their search, but was pulled out covered with mire,
and carried away naked to Minturnae, and delivered to the magistrates.
For there had been orders sent through all the towns, to make public
search for Marius, and if they found him to kill him; however, the
magistrates thought convenient to consider a little better of it first,
and sent him prisoner to the house of one Fannia.
This woman was supposed not very well affected towards him upon an old
account. One Tinnius had formerly married this Fannia; from whom she
afterwards being divorced, demanded her portion, which was
considerable, but her husband accused her of adultery; so the
controversy was brought before Marius in his sixth consulship. When the
cause was examined thoroughly, it appeared both that Fannia had been
incontinent, and that her husband knowing her to be so, had married and
lived a considerable time with her. So that Marius was severe enough
with both, commanding him to restore her portion, and laying a fine of
four copper coins upon her by way of disgrace. But Fannia did not then
behave like a woman that had been injured, but as soon as she saw
Marius, remembered nothing less than old affronts; took care of him
according to her ability, and comforted him. He made her his returns
and told her he did not despair, for he had met with a lucky omen,
which was thus. When he was brought to Fannia's house, as soon as the
gate was opened, an ass came running out to drink at a spring hard by,
and giving a bold and encouraging look, first stood still before him,
then brayed aloud and pranced by him. From which Marius drew his
conclusion, and said, that the fates designed him safety, rather by sea
than land, because the ass neglected his dry fodder, and turned from it
to the water. Having told Fannia this story, he bade the chamber door
to be shut and went to rest.
Meanwhile the magistrates and councilors of Minturnae consulted
together, and determined not to delay any longer, but immediately to
kill Marius; and when none of their citizens durst undertake the
business, a certain soldier, a Gaulish or Cimbrian horseman, (the story
is told both ways,) went in with his sword drawn to him. The room
itself was not very light, that part of it especially where he then lay
was dark, from whence Marius's eyes, they say, seemed to the fellow to
dart out flames at him, and a loud voice to say, out of the dark,
"Fellow, darest thou kill Caius Marius?" The barbarian hereupon
immediately fled, and leaving his sword in the place rushed out of
doors, crying only this, "I cannot kill Caius Marius." At which they
were all at first astonished, and presently began to feel pity, and
remorse, and anger at themselves for making so unjust and ungrateful a
decree against one who had preserved Italy, and whom it was bad enough
not to assist. "Let him go," said they, "where he please to banishment,
and find his fate somewhere else; we only entreat pardon of the gods
for thrusting Marius distressed and deserted out of our city."
Impelled by thoughts of this kind, they went in a body into the room,
and taking him amongst them, conducted him towards the sea-side; on his
way to which, though everyone was very officious to him, and all made
what haste they could, yet a considerable time was likely to be lost.
For the grove of Marica, (as she is called,) which the people hold
sacred, and make it a point of religion not to let anything that is
once carried into it be taken out, lay just in their road to the sea,
and if they should go round about, they must needs come very late
thither. At length one of the old men cried out and said, there was no
place so sacred, but they might pass through it for Marius's
preservation; and thereupon, first of all, he himself, taking up some
of the baggage that was carried for his accommodation to the ship,
passed through the grove, all the rest immediately, with the same
readiness, accompanying him. And one Belaeus, (who afterwards had a
picture of these things drawn, and put it in a temple at the place of
embarkation,) having by this time provided him a ship, Marius went on
board, and, hoisting sail, was by fortune thrown upon the island
Aenaria, where meeting with Granius, and his other friends, he sailed
with them for Africa. But their water failing them in the way, they
were forced to put in near Eryx, in Sicily, where was a Roman quaestor
on the watch, who all but captured Marius himself on his landing, and
did kill sixteen of his retinue that went to fetch water. Marius, with
all expedition loosing thence, crossed the sea to the isle of Meninx,
where he first heard the news of his son's escape with Cethegus, and of
his going to implore the assistance of Hiempsal, king of Numidia.
With this news, being somewhat comforted, he ventured to pass from that
isle towards Carthage. Sextilius, a Roman, was then governor in Africa;
one that had never received either any injury or any kindness from
Marius; but who from compassion, it was hoped, might lend him some
help. But he was scarce got ashore with a small retinue, when an
officer met him, and said, "Sextilius, the governor, forbids you,
Marius, to set foot in Africa; if you do, he says, he will put the
decree of the senate in execution, and treat you as an enemy to the
Romans." When Marius heard this, he wanted words to express his grief
and resentment, and for a good while held his peace, looking sternly
upon the messenger, who asked him what he should say, or what answer he
should return to the governor? Marius answered him with a deep sigh:
"Go tell him that you have seen Caius Marius sitting in exile among the
ruins of Carthage;" appositely applying the example of the fortune of
that city to the change of his own condition.
In the interim, Hiempsal, king of Numidia, dubious of what he should
determine to do, treated young Marius and those that were with him very
honorably; but when they had a mind to depart, he still had some
presence or other to detain them, and it was manifest he made these
delays upon no good design. However, there happened an accident that
made well for their preservation. The hard fortune which attended young
Marius, who was of a comely aspect, touched one of the king's
concubines, and this pity of hers, was the beginning and occasion of
love for him. At first he declined the woman's solicitations, but when
he perceived that there was no other way of escaping, and that her
offers were more serious than for the gratification of intemperate
passion, he accepted her kindness, and she finding means to convey them
away, he escaped with his friends and fled to his father. As soon as
they had saluted each other, and were going by the sea-side, they saw
some scorpions fighting, which Marius took for an ill omen, whereupon
they immediately went on board a little fisher-boat, and made toward
Cercina, an island not far distant from the continent. They had scarce
put off from shore when they espied some horse, sent after them by the
king, with all speed making toward that very place from which they were
just retired. And Marius thus escaped a danger, it might be said, as
great as any he ever incurred.
At Rome news came that Sylla was engaged with Mithridates's generals in
Boeotia; the consuls, from factious opposition, were fallen to
downright fighting, wherein Octavius prevailing, drove Cinna out of the
city for attempting despotic government, and made Cornelius Merula
consul in his stead; while Cinna, raising forces in other parts of
Italy, carried the war against them. As soon as Marius heard of this,
he resolved, with all expedition, to put to sea again, and taking with
him from Africa some Mauritanian horse, and a few of the refugees out
of Italy, all together not above one thousand, he, with this handful,
began his voyage. Arriving at Telamon, in Etruria, and coming ashore,
he proclaimed freedom for the slaves; and many of the countrymen, also,
and shepherds thereabouts, who were already freemen, at the hearing his
name flocked to him to the sea-side. He persuaded the youngest and
strongest to join him, and in a small time got together a competent
force with which he filled forty ships. Knowing Octavius to be a good
man and willing to execute his office with the greatest justice
imaginable, and Cinna to be suspected by Sylla, and in actual warfare
against the established government, he determined to join himself and
his forces with the latter. He, therefore, sent a message to him, to
let him know that he was ready to obey him as consul.
When Cinna had joyfully received his offer, naming him proconsul, and
sending him the fasces and other ensigns of authority, he said, that
grandeur did not become his present fortune; but wearing an ordinary
habit, and still letting his hair grow as it had done, from that very
day he first went into banishment, and being now above threescore and
ten years old, he came slowly on foot, designing to move people's
compassion; which did not prevent, however, his natural fierceness of
expression from still predominating, and his humiliation still let it
appear that he was not so much dejected as exasperated, by the change
of his condition. Having saluted Cinna and the soldiers, he immediately
prepared for action, and soon made a considerable alteration in the
posture of affairs. He first cut off the provision ships, and
plundering all the merchants, made himself master of the supplies of
corn; then bringing his navy to the seaport towns, he took them, and at
last, becoming master of Ostia by treachery, he pillaged that town, and
slew a multitude of the inhabitants, and, blocking up the river, took
from the enemy all hopes of supply by the sea; then marched with his
army toward the city, and posted himself upon the hill called Janiculum.
The public interest did not receive so great damage from Octavius's
unskillfulness in his management of affairs, as from his omitting
needful measures, through too strict observance of the law. As when
several advised him to make the slaves free, he said that he would not
give slaves the privilege of the country from which he then, in defense
of the laws, was driving away Marius. When Metellus, son to that
Metellus who was general in the war in Africa, and afterwards banished
through Marius's means, came to Rome, being thought a much better
commander than Octavius, the soldiers, deserting the consul, came to
him and desired him to take the command of them and preserve the city;
that they, when they had got an experienced valiant commander, should
fight courageously, and come off conquerors. But when Metellus,
offended at it, commanded them angrily to return to the consul, they
revolted to the enemy. Metellus, too, seeing the city in a desperate
condition, left it; but a company of Chaldaeans, sacrificers, and
interpreters of the Sibyl's books, persuaded Octavius that things would
turn out happily, and kept him at Rome. He was, indeed, of all the
Romans the most upright and just, and maintained the honor of the
consulate, without cringing or compliance, as strictly in accordance
with ancient laws and usages, as though they had been immutable
mathematical truths; and yet fell, I know not how, into some
weaknesses, giving more observance to fortune-tellers and diviners,
than to men skilled in civil and military affairs. He therefore, before
Marius entered the city, was pulled down from the rostra, and murdered
by those that were sent before by Marius; and it is reported there was
a Chaldaean writing found in his gown, when he was slain. And it seemed
a thing very unaccountable, that of two famous generals, Marius should
be often successful by the observing divinations, and Octavius ruined
by the same means.
When affairs were in this posture, the senate assembled, and sent a
deputation to Cinna and Marius, desiring them to come into the city
peaceably and spare the citizens. Cinna, as consul, received the
embassy, sitting in the curule chair, and returned a kind answer to the
messengers; Marius stood by him and said nothing, but gave sufficient
testimony by the gloominess of his countenance, and the sternness of
his looks, that he would in a short time fill the city with blood. As
soon as the council arose, they went toward the city, where Cinna
entered with his guards, but Marius stayed at the gates, and,
dissembling his rage, professed that he was then an exile and banished
his country by course of law; that if his presence were necessary, they
must, by a new decree, repeal the former act by which he was banished;
as though he were, indeed, a religious observer of the laws, and as if
he were returning to a city free from fear or oppression. Hereupon the
people were assembled, but before three or four tribes had given their
votes, throwing up his pretenses and his legal scruples about his
banishment, he came into the city with a select guard of the slaves who
had joined him, whom he called Bardyaei. These proceeded to murder a
number of citizens, as he gave command, partly by word of mouth, partly
by the signal of his nod. At length Ancharius, a senator, and one that
had been praetor, coming to Marius, and not being resaluted by him,
they with their drawn swords slew him before Marius's face; and
henceforth this was their token, immediately to kill all those who met
Marius and saluting him were taken no notice of, nor answered with the
like courtesy; so that his very friends were not without dreadful
apprehensions and horror, whensoever they came to speak with him.
When they had now butchered a great number, Cinna grew more remiss and
cloyed with murders; but Marius's rage continued still fresh and
unsatisfied, and he daily sought for all that were any way suspected by
him. Now was every road and every town filled with those that pursued
and hunted them that fled and hid themselves; and it was remarkable
that there was no more confidence to be placed, as things stood, either
in hospitality or friendship; for there were found but a very few that
did not betray those that fled to them for shelter. And thus the
servants of Cornutus deserve the greater praise and admiration, who,
having concealed their master in the house, took the body of one of the
slain, cut off the head, put a gold ring on the finger, and showed it
to Marius's guards, and buried it with the same solemnity as if it had
been their own master. This trick was perceived by nobody, and so
Cornutus escaped, and was conveyed by his domestics into Gaul.
Marcus Antonius, the orator, though he, too, found a true friend, had
ill-fortune. The man was but poor and a plebeian, and as he was
entertaining a man of the greatest rank in Rome, trying to provide for
him with the best he could, he sent his servant to get some wine of
neighboring vintner. The servant carefully tasting it and bidding him
draw better, the fellow asked him what was the matter, that he did not
buy new and ordinary wine as he used to do, but richer and of a greater
price; he, without any design, told him as his old friend and
acquaintance, that his master entertained Marcus Antonius, who was
concealed with him. The villainous vintner, as soon as the servant was
gone, went himself to Marius, then at supper, and being brought into
his presence, told him, he would deliver Antonius into his hands. As
soon as he heard it, it is said he gave a great shout, and clapped his
hands for joy, and had very nearly risen up and gone to the place
himself; but being detained by his friends, he sent Annius, and some
soldiers with him, and commanded him to bring Antonius's head to him
with all speed. When they came to the house, Annius stayed at the door,
and the soldiers went up stairs into the chamber; where, seeing
Antonius, they endeavored to shuffle off the murder from one to
another; for so great it seems were the graces and charms of his
oratory, that as soon as he began to speak and beg his life, none of
them durst touch or so much as look upon him; but hanging down their
heads, every one fell a weeping. When their stay seemed something
tedious, Annius came up himself and found Antonius discoursing, and the
soldiers astonished and quite softened by it, and calling them cowards,
went himself and cut off his head.
Catulus Lutatius, who was colleague with Marius, and his partner in the
triumph over the Cimbri, when Marius replied to those that interceded
for him and begged his life, merely with the words, "he must die," shut
himself up in a room, and making a great fire, smothered himself. When
maimed and headless carcasses were now frequently thrown about and
trampled upon in the streets, people were not so much moved with
compassion at the sight, as struck into a kind of horror and
consternation. The outrages of those that were called Bardyaei, was the
greatest grievance. These murdered the masters of families in their own
houses, abused their children, and ravished their wives, and were
uncontrollable in their rapine and murders, till those of Cinna's and
Sertorius's party, taking counsel together, fell upon them in the camp
and killed them every man.
In the interim, as if a change of wind was coming on, there came news
from all parts that Sylla, having put an end to the war with
Mithridates, and taken possession of the provinces, was returning into
Italy with a great army. This gave some small respite and intermission
to these unspeakable calamities. Marius and his friends believing war
to be close at hand, Marius was chosen consul the seventh time, and
appearing on the very calends of January, the beginning of the year,
threw one Sextus Lucinus, from the Tarpeian precipice; an omen, as it
seemed, portending the renewed misfortunes both of their party and of
the city. Marius, himself now worn out with labor and sinking under the
burden of anxieties, could not sustain his spirits, which shook within
him with the apprehension of a new war and fresh encounters and
dangers, the formidable character of which he knew by his own
experience. He was not now to hazard the war with Octavius or Merula,
commanding an inexperienced multitude or seditious rabble; but Sylla
himself was approaching, the same who had formerly banished him, and
since that, had driven Mithridates as far as the Euxine Sea.
Perplexed with such thoughts as these, and calling to mind his
banishment, and the tedious wanderings and dangers he underwent, both
by sea and land, he fell into despondency, nocturnal frights, and
unquiet sleep, still fancying that he heard some one telling him, that
-- the lion's lair Is dangerous, though the lion be not there.
Above all things fearing to lie awake, he gave himself up to drinking
deep and besotting himself at night in a way most unsuitable to his
age; by all means provoking sleep, as a diversion to his thoughts. At
length, on the arrival of a messenger from the sea, he was seized with
new alarms, and so what with his fear for the future, and what with the
burden and satiety of the present, on some slight predisposing cause,
he fell into a pleurisy, as Posidonius the philosopher relates, who
says he visited and conversed with him when he was sick, about some
business relating to his embassy. Caius Piso, an historian, tells us,
that Marius, walking after supper with his friends, fell into a
conversation with them about his past life, and after reckoning up the
several changes of his condition, that from the beginning had happened
to him, said, that it did not become a prudent man to trust himself any
longer with fortune; and, thereupon, taking leave of those that were
with him, he kept his bed seven days, and then died.
Some say his ambition betrayed itself openly in his sickness. and that
he ran into an extravagant frenzy, fancying himself to be general in
the war against Mithridates, throwing himself into such postures and
motions of his body as he had formerly used when he was in battle, with
frequent shouts and loud cries. With so strong and invincible a desire
of being employed in that business had he been possessed through his
pride and emulation. Though he had now lived seventy years, and was the
first man that ever was chosen seven times consul, and had an
establishment and riches sufficient for many kings, he yet complained
of his ill fortune, that he must now die before he had attained what he
desired. Plato, when he saw his death approaching, thanked the guiding
providence and fortune of his life, first, that he was born a man and a
Grecian, not a barbarian or a brute, and next, that he happened to live
in Socrates's age. And so, indeed, they say Antipater of Tarsus, in
like manner, at his death, calling to mind the happiness that he had
enjoyed, did not so much as omit his prosperous voyage to Athens; thus
recognizing every favor of his indulgent fortune with the greatest
acknowledgments, and carefully saving all to the last in that safest of
human treasure chambers, the memory. Unmindful and thoughtless persons,
on the contrary, let all that occurs to them slip away from them as
time passes on. Retaining and preserving nothing, they lose the
enjoyment of their present prosperity by fancying something better to
come; whereas by fortune we may be prevented of this, but that cannot
be taken from us. Yet they reject their present success, as though it
did not concern them, and do nothing but dream of future uncertainties;
not indeed unnaturally; as till men have by reason and education laid
good foundation for external superstructures, in the seeking after and
gathering them they can never satisfy the unlimited desires of their
mind.
Thus died Marius on the seventeenth day of his seventh consulship, to
the great joy and content of Rome, which thereby was in good hopes to
be delivered from the calamity of a cruel tyranny; but in a small time
they found, that they had only changed their old and worn-out master
for another young and vigorous; so much cruelty and savageness did his
son Marius show in murdering the noblest and most approved citizens. At
first, being esteemed resolute and daring against his enemies, he was
named the son of Mars, but afterwards, his actions betraying his
contrary disposition, he was called the son of Venus. At last, besieged
by Sylla in Praeneste, where he endeavored in many ways, but in vain,
to save his life, when on the capture of the city there was no hope of
escape, he killed himself with his own hand.
LYSANDER
The treasure-chamber of the Acanthians at Delphi has this inscription:
"The spoils which Brasidas and the Acanthians took from the Athenians."
And, accordingly, many take the marble statue, which stands within the
building by the gates, to be Brasidas's; but, indeed, it is Lysander's,
representing him with his hair at full length, after the old fashion,
and with an ample beard. Neither is it true, as some give out, that
because the Argives, after their great defeat, shaved themselves for
sorrow, that the Spartans contrariwise triumphing in their
achievements, suffered their hair to grow; neither did the Spartans
come to be ambitious of wearing long hair, because the Bacchiadae, who
fled from Corinth to Lacedaemon, looked mean and unsightly, having
their heads all close cut. But this, also, is indeed one of the
ordinances of Lycurgus, who, as it is reported, was used to say, that
long hair made good-looking men more beautiful, and ill-looking men
more terrible.
Lysander's father is said to have been Aristoclitus, who was not indeed
of the royal family, but yet of the stock of the Heraclidae. He was
brought up in poverty, and showed himself obedient and conformable, as
ever anyone did, to the customs of his country; of a manly spirit,
also, and superior to all pleasures, excepting only that which their
good actions bring to those who are honored and successful; and it is
accounted no base thing in Sparta for their young men to be overcome
with this kind of pleasure. For they are desirous, from the very first,
to have their youth susceptible to good and bad repute, to feel pain at
disgrace, and exultation at being commended; and anyone who is
insensible and unaffected in these respects is thought poor spirited
and of no capacity for virtue. Ambition and the passion for distinction
were thus implanted in his character by his Laconian education, nor, if
they continued there, must we blame his natural disposition much for
this. But he was submissive to great men, beyond what seems agreeable
to the Spartan temper, and could easily bear the haughtiness of those
who were in power, when it was any way for his advantage, which some
are of opinion is no small part of political discretion. Aristotle, who
says all great characters are more or less atrabilious, as Socrates and
Plato and Hercules were, writes, that Lysander, not indeed early in
life, but when he was old, became thus affected. What is singular in
his character is that he endured poverty very well, and that he was not
at all enslaved or corrupted by wealth, and yet he filled his country
with riches and the love of them, and took away from them the glory of
not admiring money; importing amongst them an abundance of gold and
silver after the Athenian war, though keeping not one drachma for
himself. When Dionysius, the tyrant, sent his daughters some costly
gowns of Sicilian manufacture, he would not receive them, saying he was
afraid they would make them look more unhandsome. But a while after,
being sent ambassador from the same city to the same tyrant, when he
had sent him a couple of robes, and bade him choose which of them he
would, and carry to his daughter: "She," said he, "will be able to
choose best for herself," and taking both of them, went his way.
The Peloponnesian war having now been carried on a long time, and it
being expected, after the disaster of the Athenians in Sicily, that
they would at once lose the mastery of the sea, and erelong be routed
everywhere, Alcibiades, returning from banishment, and taking the
command, produced a great change, and made the Athenians again a match
for their opponents by sea; and the Lacedaemonians, in great alarm at
this, and calling up fresh courage and zeal for the conflict, feeling
the want of an able commander and of a powerful armament, sent out
Lysander to be admiral of the seas. Being at Ephesus, and finding the
city well affected towards him, and favorable to the Lacedaemonian
party, but in ill condition, and in danger to become barbarized by
adopting the manners of the Persians, who were much mingled among them,
the country of Lydia bordering upon them, and the king's generals being
quartered there a long time, he pitched his camp there, and commanded
the merchant ships all about to put in thither, and proceeded to build
ships of war there; and thus restored their ports by the traffic he
created, and their market by the employment he gave, and filled their
private houses and their workshops with wealth, so that from that time,
the city began, first of all, by Lysander's means, to have some hopes
of growing to that stateliness and grandeur which now it is at.
Understanding that Cyrus, the king's son, was come to Sardis, he went
up to talk with him, and to accuse Tisaphernes, who, receiving a
command to help the Lacedaemonians, and to drive the Athenians from the
sea, was thought, on account of Alcibiades, to have become remiss and
unwilling, and by paying the seamen slenderly to be ruining the fleet.
Now Cyrus was willing that Tisaphernes might be found in blame, and be
ill reported of, as being, indeed, a dishonest man, and privately at
feud with himself. By these means, and by their daily intercourse
together, Lysander, especially by the submissiveness of his
conversation, won the affections of the young prince, and greatly
roused him to carry on the war; and when he would depart, Cyrus gave
him a banquet, and desired him not to refuse his good-will, but to
speak and ask whatever he had a mind to, and that he should not be
refused anything whatsoever: "Since you are so very kind," replied
Lysander, "I earnestly request you to add one penny to the seamen's
pay, that instead of three pence, they may now receive four pence."
Cyrus, delighted with his public spirit, gave him ten thousand darics,
out of which he added the penny to the seamen's pay, and by the renown
of this in a short time emptied the ships of the enemies, as many would
come over to that side which gave the most pay, and those who remained,
being disheartened and mutinous, daily created trouble to the captains.
Yet for all Lysander had so distracted and weakened his enemies, he was
afraid to engage by sea, Alcibiades being an energetic commander, and
having the superior number of ships, and having been hitherto, in all
battles, unconquered both by sea and land.
But afterwards, when Alcibiades sailed from Samos to Phocaea, leaving
Antiochus, the pilot, in command of all his forces, this Antiochus, to
insult Lysander, sailed with two galleys into the port of the
Ephesians, and with mocking and laughter proudly rowed along before the
place where the ships lay drawn up. Lysander, in indignation, launched
at first a few ships only and pursued him, but as soon as he saw the
Athenians come to his help, he added some other ships, and, at last,
they fell to a set battle together; and Lysander won the victory, and
taking fifteen of their ships, erected a trophy. For this, the people
in the city being angry, put Alcibiades out of command, and finding
himself despised by the soldiers in Samos, and ill spoken of, he sailed
from the army into the Chersonese. And this battle, although not
important in itself, was made remarkable by its consequences to
Alcibiades.
Lysander, meanwhile, inviting to Ephesus such persons in the various
cities as he saw to be bolder and haughtier-spirited than the rest,
proceeded to lay the foundations of that government by bodies of ten,
and those revolutions which afterwards came to pass, stirring up and
urging them to unite in clubs, and apply themselves to public affairs,
since as soon as ever the Athenians should be put down, the popular
governments, he said, should be suppressed, and they should become
supreme in their several countries. And he made them believe these
things by present deeds, promoting those who were his friends already
to great employments, honors, and offices, and, to gratify their
covetousness, making himself a partner in injustice and wickedness. So
much so, that all flocked to him, and courted and desired him, hoping,
if he remained in power, that the highest wishes they could form would
all be gratified. And therefore, from the very beginning, they could
not look pleasantly upon Callicratidas, when he came to succeed
Lysander as admiral; nor, afterwards, when he had given them experience
that he was a most noble and just person, were they pleased with the
manner of his government, and its straightforward, Dorian, honest
character. They did, indeed, admire his virtue, as they might the
beauty of some hero's image; but their wishes were for Lysander's
zealous and profitable support of the interests of his friends and
partisans, and they shed tears, and were much disheartened when he
sailed from them. He himself made them yet more disaffected to
Callicratidas; for what remained of the money which had been given him
to pay the navy, he sent back again to Sardis, bidding them, if they
would, apply to Callicratidas himself, and see how he was able to
maintain the soldiers. And, at the last, sailing away, he declared to
him that he delivered up the fleet in possession and command of the
sea. But Callicratidas, to expose the emptiness of these high
pretensions, said, "In that case, leave Samos on the left hand, and,
sailing to Miletus, there deliver up the ships to me; for if we are
masters of the sea, we need not fear sailing by our enemies in Samos."
To which Lysander answering, that not himself, but he, commanded the
ships, sailed to Peloponnesus, leaving Callicratidas in great
perplexity. For neither had he brought any money from home with him,
nor could he endure to tax the towns or force them, being in hardship
enough. Therefore, the only course that was to be taken was to go and
beg at the doors of the king's commanders, as Lysander had done; for
which he was most unfit of any man, being of a generous and great
spirit, and one who thought it more becoming for the Greeks to suffer
any damage from one another, than to flatter and wait at the gates of
barbarians, who, indeed, had gold enough, but nothing else that was
commendable. But being compelled by necessity, he proceeded to Lydia,
and went at once to Cyrus's house, and sent in word, that
Callicratidas, the admiral, was there to speak with him; one of those
who kept the gates replied, "Cyrus, O stranger, is not now at leisure,
for he is drinking." To which Callicratidas answered, most innocently,
"Very well, I will wait till he has done his draught." This time,
therefore, they took him for some clownish fellow, and he withdrew,
merely laughed at by the barbarians; but when, afterwards, he came a
second time to the gate, and was not admitted, he took it hardly and
set off for Ephesus, wishing a great many evils to those who first let
themselves be insulted over by these barbarians, and taught them to be
insolent because of their riches; and added vows to those who were
present, that as soon as ever he came back to Sparta, he would do all
he could to reconcile the Greeks, that they might be formidable to
barbarians, and that they should cease henceforth to need their aid
against one another. But Callicratidas, who entertained purposes worthy
a Lacedaemonian, and showed himself worthy to compete with the very
best of Greece, for his justice, his greatness of mind and courage, not
long after, having been beaten in a sea-fight at Arginusae, died.
And now affairs going backwards, the associates in the war sent an
embassy to Sparta, requiring Lysander to be their admiral, professing
themselves ready to undertake the business much more zealously, if he
was commander; and Cyrus, also, sent to request the same thing. But
because they had a law which would not suffer any one to be admiral
twice, and wished, nevertheless, to gratify their allies, they gave the
title of admiral to one Aracus, and sent Lysander nominally as
vice-admiral, but, indeed, with full powers. So he came out, long
wished for by the greatest part of the chief persons and leaders in the
towns, who hoped to grow to greater power still by his means, when the
popular governments should be everywhere destroyed.
But to those who loved honest and noble behavior in their commanders,
Lysander, compared with Callicratidas, seemed cunning and subtle,
managing most things in the war by deceit, extolling what was just when
it was profitable, and when it was not, using that which was
convenient, instead of that which was good; and not judging truth to be
in nature better than falsehood, but setting a value upon both
according to interest. He would laugh at those who thought that
Hercules's posterity ought not to use deceit in war: "For where the
lion's skin will not reach, you must patch it out with the fox's." Such
is the conduct recorded of him in the business about Miletus; for when
his friends and connections, whom he had promised to assist in
suppressing popular government and expelling their political opponents,
had altered their minds, and were reconciled to their enemies, he
pretended openly as if he was pleased with it, and was desirous to
further the reconciliation, but privately he railed at and abused them,
and provoked them to set upon the multitude. And as soon as ever he
perceived a new attempt to be commencing, he at once came up and
entered into the city, and the first of the conspirators he lit upon,
he pretended to rebuke, and spoke roughly, as if he would punish them;
but the others, meantime, he bade be courageous, and to fear nothing
now he was with them. And all this acting and dissembling was with the
object that the most considerable men of the popular party might not
fly away, but might stay in the city and be killed; which so fell out,
for all who believed him were put to death.
There is a saying, also, recorded by Androclides, which makes him
guilty of great indifference to the obligations of an oath. His
recommendation, according to this account, was to "cheat boys with
dice, and men with oaths," an imitation of Polycrates of Samos, not
very honorable to a lawful commander, to take example, namely, from a
tyrant; nor in character with Laconian usages, to treat gods as ill as
enemies, or, indeed, even more injuriously; since he who overreaches by
an oath admits that he fears his enemy, while he despises his God.
Cyrus now sent for Lysander to Sardis, and gave him some money, and
promised him some more, youthfully protesting in favor to him, that if
his father gave him nothing, he would supply him of his own; and if he
himself should be destitute of all, he would cut up, he said, to make
money, the very throne upon which he sat to do justice, it being made
of gold and silver; and, at last, on going up into Media to his father,
he ordered that he should receive the tribute of the towns, and
committed his government to him, and so taking his leave, and desiring
him not to fight by sea before he returned, for he would come back with
a great many ships out of Phoenicia and Cilicia, departed to visit the
king.
Lysander's ships were too few for him to venture to fight, and yet too
many to allow of his remaining idle; he set out, therefore, and reduced
some of the islands, and wasted Aegina and Salamis; and from thence
landing in Attica, and saluting Agis, who came from Decelea to meet
him, he made a display to the land-forces of the strength of the fleet,
as though he could sail where he pleased, and were absolute master by
sea. But hearing the Athenians pursued him, he fled another way through
the islands into Asia. And finding the Hellespont without any defense,
he attacked Lampsacus with his ships by sea; while Thorax, acting in
concert with him with the land army, made an assault on the walls; and
so, having taken the city by storm, he gave it up to his soldiers to
plunder. The fleet of the Athenians, a hundred and eighty ships, had
just arrived at Elaeus in the Chersonese; and hearing the news, that
Lampsacus was destroyed, they presently sailed to Sestos; where, taking
in victuals, they advanced to Aegos Potami, over against their enemies,
who were still stationed about Lampsacus. Amongst other Athenian
captains who were now in command was Philocles, he who persuaded the
people to pass a decree to cut off the right thumb of the captives in
the war, that they should not be able to hold the spear, though they
might the oar.
Then they all rested themselves, hoping they should have battle the
next morning. But Lysander had other things in his head; he commanded
the mariners and pilots to go on board at dawn, as if there should be a
battle as soon as it was day, and to sit there in order, and without
any noise, expecting what should be commanded, and in like manner that
the land army should remain quietly in their ranks by the sea. But the
sun rising, and the Athenians sailing up with their whole fleet in
line, and challenging them to battle, he, though he had had his ships
all drawn up and manned before daybreak, nevertheless did not stir. He
merely sent some small boats to those who lay foremost, and bade them
keep still and stay in their order; not to be disturbed, and none of
them to sail out and offer battle. So about evening, the Athenians
sailing back, he would not let the seamen go out of the ships before
two or three, which he had sent to espy, were returned, after seeing
the enemies disembark. And thus they did the next day, and the third,
and so to the fourth. So that the Athenians grew extremely confident,
and disdained their enemies, as if they had been afraid and daunted. At
this time, Alcibiades, who was in his castle in the Chersonese, came on
horseback to the Athenian army, and found fault with their captains,
first of all that they had pitched their camp neither well nor safely,
on an exposed and open beach, a very bad landing for the ships, and,
secondly, that where they were, they had to fetch all they wanted from
Sestos, some considerable way off; whereas if they sailed round a
little way to the town and harbor of Sestos, they would be at a safer
distance from an enemy, who lay watching their movements, at the
command of a single general, terror of whom made every order rapidly
executed. This advice, however, they would not listen to; and Tydeus
angered disdainfully, that not he, but others, were in office now. So
Alcibiades, who even suspected there must be treachery, departed.
But on the fifth day, the Athenians having sailed towards them, and
gone back again as they were used to do, very proudly and full of
contempt, Lysander sending some ships, as usual, to look out, commanded
the masters of them that when they saw the Athenians go to land, they
should row back again with all their speed, and that when they were
about half-way across, they should lift up a brazen shield from the
foredeck, as the sign of battle. And he himself sailing round,
encouraged the pilots and masters of the ships, and exhorted them to
keep all their men to their places, seamen and soldiers alike, and as
soon as ever the sign should be given, to row up boldly to their
enemies. Accordingly when the shield had been lifted up from the ships,
and the trumpet from the admiral's vessel had sounded for battle, the
ships rowed up, and the foot soldiers strove to get along by the shore
to the promontory. The distance there between the two continents is
fifteen furlongs, which, by the zeal and eagerness of the rowers, was
quickly traversed. Conon, one of the Athenian commanders, was the first
who saw from the land the fleet advancing, and shouted out to embark,
and in the greatest distress bade some and entreated others, and some
he forced to man the ships. But all his diligence signified nothing,
because the men were scattered about; for as soon as they came out of
the ships, expecting no such matter, some went to market, others walked
about the country, or went to sleep in their tents, or got their
dinners ready, being, through their commanders' want of skill, as far
as possible from any thought of what was to happen; and the enemy now
coming up with shouts and noise, Conon, with eight ships, sailed out,
and making his escape, passed from thence to Cyprus, to Evagores. The
Peloponnesians falling upon the rest, some they took quite empty, and
some they destroyed while they were filling; the men, meantime, coming
unarmed and scattered to help, died at their ships, or, flying by land,
were slain, their enemies disembarking and pursuing them. Lysander took
three thousand prisoners, with the generals, and the whole fleet,
excepting the sacred ship Paralus, and those which fled with Conon. So
taking their ships in tow, and having plundered their tents, with pipe
and songs of victory, he sailed back to Lampsacus, having accomplished
a great work with small pains, and having finished in one hour, a war
which had been protracted in its continuance, and diversified in its
incidents and its fortunes to a degree exceeding belief, compared with
all before it. After altering its shape and character a thousand times,
and after having been the destruction of more commanders than all the
previous wars of Greece put together, it was now put an end to by the
good counsel and ready conduct of one man.
Some, therefore, looked upon the result as a divine intervention, and
there were certain who affirmed that the stars of Castor and Pollux
were seen on each side of Lysander's ship, when he first set sail from
the haven toward his enemies, shining about the helm; and some say the
stone which fell down was a sign of this slaughter. For a stone of a
great size did fall, according to the common belief, from heaven, at
Aegos Potami, which is shown to this day, and had in great esteem by
the Chersonites. And it is said that Anaxagoras foretold, that the
occurrence of a slip or shake among the bodies fixed in the heavens,
dislodging any one of them, would be followed by the fall of the whole
of them. For no one of the stars is now in the same place in which it
was at first; for they, being, according to him, like stones and heavy,
shine by the refraction of the upper air round about them, and are
carried along forcibly by the violence of the circular motion by which
they were originally withheld from falling, when cold and heavy bodies
were first separated from the general universe. But there is a more
probable opinion than this maintained by some, who say that falling
stars are no effluxes, nor discharges of ethereal fire, extinguished
almost at the instant of its igniting by the lower air; neither are
they the sudden combustion and blazing up of a quantity of the lower
air let loose in great abundance into the upper region; but the
heavenly bodies, by a relaxation of the force of their circular
movement, are carried by an irregular course, not in general into the
inhabited part of the earth, but for the most part into the wide sea;
which is the cause of their not being observed. Daimachus, in his
treatise on Religion. supports the view of Anaxagoras. He says, that
before this stone fell, for seventy-five days continually, there was
seen in the heavens a vast fiery body, as if it had been a flaming
cloud, not resting, but carried about with several intricate and broken
movements, so that the flaming pieces, which were broken off by this
commotion and running about, were carried in all directions, shining as
falling stars do. But when it afterwards came down to the ground in
this district, and the people of the place recovering from their fear
and astonishment came together, there was no fire to be seen, neither
any sign of it; there was only a stone lying, big indeed, but which
bore no proportion, to speak of, to that fiery compass. It is manifest
that Daimachus needs to have indulgent hearers; but if what he says be
true, he altogether proves those to be wrong who say that a rock broken
off from the top of some mountain, by winds and tempests, and caught
and whirled about like a top, as soon as this impetus began to slacken
and cease, was precipitated and fell to the ground. Unless, indeed, we
choose to say that the phenomenon which was observed for so many days
was really fire, and that the change in the atmosphere ensuing on its
extinction was attended with violent winds and agitations, which might
be the cause of this stone being carried off. The exacter treatment of
this subject belongs, however, to a different kind of writing.
Lysander, after the three thousand Athenians whom he had taken
prisoners were condemned by the commissioners to die, called Philocles
the general, and asked him what punishment he considered himself to
deserve, for having advised the citizens as he had done, against the
Greeks; but he, being nothing cast down at his calamity, bade him not
accuse him of matters of which nobody was a judge, but to do to him,
now he was a conqueror, as he would have suffered, had he been
overcome. Then washing himself, and putting on a fine cloak, he led the
citizens the way to the slaughter, as Theophrastus writes in his
history. After this Lysander, sailing about to the various cities, bade
all the Athenians he met go into Athens, declaring that he would spare
none, but kill every man whom he found out of the city, intending thus
to cause immediate famine and scarcity there, that they might not make
the siege laborious to him, having provisions sufficient to endure it.
And suppressing the popular governments and all other constitutions, he
left one Lacedaemonian chief officer in every city, with ten rulers to
act with him, selected out of the societies which he had previously
formed in the different towns. And doing thus as well in the cities of
his enemies, as of his associates, he sailed leisurely on,
establishing, in a manner, for himself supremacy over the whole of
Greece. Neither did he make choice of rulers by birth or by wealth, but
bestowed the offices on his own friends and partisans, doing everything
to please them, and putting absolute power of reward and punishment
into their hands. And thus, personally appearing on many occasions of
bloodshed and massacre, and aiding his friends to expel their
opponents, he did not give the Greeks a favorable specimen of the
Lacedaemonian government; and the expression of Theopompus, the comic
poet, seemed but poor, when he compared the Lacedaemonians to tavern
women, because when the Greeks had first tasted the sweet wine of
liberty, they then poured vinegar into the cup; for from the very first
it had a rough and bitter taste, all government by the people being
suppressed by Lysander, and the boldest and least scrupulous of the
oligarchical party selected to rule the cities.
Having spent some little time about these things, and sent some before
to Lacedaemon to tell them he was arriving with two hundred ships, he
united his forces in Attica with those of the two kings Agis and
Pausanias, hoping to take the city without delay. But when the
Athenians defended themselves, he with his fleet passed again to Asia,
and in like manner destroyed the forms of government in all the other
cities, and placed them under the rule of ten chief persons, many in
every one being killed, and many driven into exile; and in Samos, he
expelled the whole people, and gave their cities to the exiles whom he
brought back. And the Athenians still possessing Sestos, he took it
from them, and suffered not the Sestians themselves to dwell in it, but
gave the city and country to be divided out among the pilots and
masters of the ships under him; which was his first act that was
disallowed by the Lacedaemonians, who brought the Sestians back again
into their country. All Greece, however, rejoiced to see the
Aeginetans, by Lysander's aid, now again, after a long time, receiving
back their cities, and the Melians and Scionaeans restored, while the
Athenians were driven out, and delivered up the cities.
But when he now understood they were in a bad case in the city because
of the famine, he sailed to Piraeus, and reduced the city, which was
compelled to surrender on what conditions he demanded. One hears it
said by Lacedaemonians that Lysander wrote to the Ephors thus: "Athens
is taken;" and that these magistrates wrote back to Lysander, "Taken is
enough." But this saying was invented for its neatness' sake; for the
true decree of the magistrates was on this manner: "The government of
the Lacedaemonians has made these orders; pull down the Piraeus and the
long walls; quit all the towns, and keep to your own land; if you do
these things, you shall have peace, if you wish it, restoring also your
exiles. As concerning the number of the ships, whatsoever there be
judged necessary to appoint, that do." This scroll of conditions the
Athenians accepted, Theramenes, son of Hagnon, supporting it. At which
time, too, they say that when Cleomenes, one of the young orators,
asked him how he durst act and speak contrary to Themistocles,
delivering up the walls to the Lacedaemonians, which he had built
against the will of the Lacedaemonians, he said, "O young man, I do
nothing contrary to Themistocles; for he raised these walls for the
safety of the citizens, and we pull them down for their safety; and if
walls make a city happy, then Sparta must be the most wretched of all,
as it has none."
Lysander, as soon as he had taken all the ships except twelve, and the
walls of the Athenians, on the sixteenth day of the month Munychion,
the same on which they had overcome the barbarians at Salamis, then
proceeded to take measures for altering the government. But the
Athenians taking that very unwillingly, and resisting, he sent to the
people and informed them, that he found that the city had broken the
terms, for the walls were standing when the days were past within which
they should have been pulled down. He should, therefore, consider their
case anew, they having broken their first articles. And some state, in
fact, the proposal was made in the congress of the allies, that the
Athenians should all be sold as slaves; on which occasion, Erianthus,
the Theban, gave his vote to pull down the city, and turn the country
into sheep-pasture; yet afterwards, when there was a meeting of the
captains together, a man of Phocis, singing the first chorus in
Euripides's Electra, which begins,
Electra, Agamemnon's child, I come
Unto thy desert home,
they were all melted with compassion, and it seemed to be a cruel deed
to destroy and pull down a city which had been so famous, and produced
such men.
Accordingly Lysander, the Athenians yielding up everything, sent for a
number of flute-women out of the city, and collected together all that
were in the camp, and pulled down the walls, and burnt the ships to the
sound of the flute, the allies being crowned with garlands, and making
merry together, as counting that day the beginning of their liberty. He
proceeded also at once to alter the government, placing thirty rulers
in the city, and ten in the Piraeus: he put, also, a garrison into the
Acropolis, and made Callibius, a Spartan, the governor of it; who
afterwards taking up his staff to strike Autolycus, the athlete, about
whom Xenophon wrote his "Banquet," on his tripping up his heels and
throwing him to the ground, Lysander was not vexed at it, but chid
Callibius, telling him he did not know how to govern freemen. The
thirty rulers, however, to gain Callibius's favor, a little after
killed Autolycus.
Lysander, after this, sails out to Thrace, and what remained of the
public money, and the gifts and crowns which he had himself received,
numbers of people, as might be expected, being anxious to make presents
to a man of such great power, who was, in a manner, the lord of Greece,
he sends to Lacedaemon by Gylippus, who had commanded formerly in
Sicily. But he, it is reported, unsewed the sacks at the bottom, took a
considerable amount of silver out of every one of them, and sewed them
up again, not knowing there was a writing in every one stating how much
there was. And coming into Sparta, what he had thus stolen away he hid
under the tiles of his house, and delivered up the sacks to the
magistrates, and showed the seals were upon them. But afterwards, on
their opening the sacks and counting it, the quantity of the silver
differed from what the writing expressed; and the matter causing some
perplexity to the magistrates, Gylippus's servant tells them in a
riddle, that under the tiles lay many owls; for, as it seems, the
greatest part of the money then current, bore the Athenian stamp of the
owl. Gylippus having committed so foul and base a deed, after such
great and distinguished exploits before, removed himself from
Lacedaemon.
But the wisest of the Spartans, very much on account of this
occurrence, dreading the influence of money, as being what had
corrupted the greatest citizens, exclaimed against Lysander's conduct,
and declared to the Ephors, that all the silver and gold should be sent
away, as mere "alien mischiefs." These consulted about it; and
Theopompus says, it was Sciraphidas, but Ephorus, that it was
Phlogidas, who declared they ought not to receive any gold or silver
into the city; but to use their own country coin which was iron, and
was first of all dipped in vinegar when it was red hot, that it might
not be worked up anew, but because of the dipping might be hard and
unpliable. It was also, of course, very heavy and troublesome to carry,
and a great deal of it in quantity and weight was but a little in
value. And perhaps all the old money was so, coin consisting of iron,
or in some countries, copper skewers, whence it comes that we still
find a great number of small pieces of money retain the name of obolus,
and the drachma is six of these, because so much may be grasped in
one's hand. But Lysander's friends being against it, and endeavoring to
keep the money in the city, it was resolved to bring in this sort of
money to be used publicly, enacting, at the same time, that if anyone
was found in possession of any privately, he should be put to death, as
if Lycurgus had feared the coin, and not the covetousness resulting
from it, which they did not repress by letting no private man keep any,
so much as they encouraged it, by allowing the state to possess it;
attaching thereby a sort of dignity to it, over and above its ordinary
utility. Neither was it possible, that what they saw was so much
esteemed publicly, they should privately despise as unprofitable; and
that everyone should think that thing could be nothing worth for his
own personal use, which was so extremely valued and desired for the use
of the state. And moral habits, induced by public practices, are far
quicker in making their way into men's private lives, than the failings
and faults of individuals are in infecting the city at large. For it is
probable that the parts will be rather corrupted by the whole if that
grows bad; while the vices which flow from a part into the whole, find
many correctives and remedies from that which remains sound. Terror and
the law were now to keep guard over the citizens' houses, to prevent
any money entering into them; but their minds could no longer be
expected to remain superior to the desire of it, when wealth in general
was thus set up to be striven after, as a high and noble object. On
this point, however, we have given our censure of the Lacedaemonians in
one of our other writings.
Lysander erected out of the spoils brazen statues at Delphi of himself,
and of every one of the masters of the ships, as also figures of the
golden stars of Castor and Pollux, which vanished before the battle at
Leuctra. In the treasury of Brasidas and the Acanthians, there was a
trireme made of gold and ivory, of two cubits, which Cyrus sent
Lysander in honor of his victory. But Alexandrides of Delphi writes in
his history, that there was also a deposit of Lysander's, a talent of
silver, and fifty-two minas, besides eleven staters; a statement not
consistent with the generally received account of his poverty. And at
that time, Lysander, being in fact of greater power than any Greek
before, was yet thought to show a pride, and to affect a superiority
greater even than his power warranted. He was the first, as Duris says
in his history, among the Greeks, to whom the cities reared altars as
to a god, and sacrificed; to him were songs of triumph first sung, the
beginning of one of which still remains recorded: --
Great Greece's general from spacious Sparta we
Will celebrate with songs of victory.
And the Samians decreed that their solemnities of Juno should be called
the Lysandria; and out of the poets he had Choerilus always with him,
to extol his achievements in verse; and to Antilochus, who had made
some verses in his commendation, being pleased with them, he gave a hat
full of silver; and when Antimachus of Colophon, and one Niceratus of
Heraclea, competed with each other in a poem on the deeds of Lysander,
he gave the garland to Niceratus; at which Antimachus, in vexation,
suppressed his poem; but Plato, being then a young man, and admiring
Antimachus for his poetry, consoled him for his defeat by telling him
that it is the ignorant who are the sufferers by ignorance, as truly as
the blind by want of sight. Afterwards, when Aristonus, the musician,
who had been a conqueror six times at the Pythian games, told him as a
piece of flattery, that if he were successful again, he would proclaim
himself in the name of Lysander, "that is," he answered, "as his slave?"
This ambitious temper was indeed only burdensome to the highest
personages and to his equals, but through having so many people devoted
to serve him, an extreme haughtiness and contemptuousness grew up,
together with ambition, in his character. He observed no sort of
moderation, such as befitted a private man, either in rewarding or in
punishing; the recompense of his friends and guests was absolute power
over cities, and irresponsible authority, and the only satisfaction of
his wrath was the destruction of his enemy; banishment would not
suffice. As for example, at a later period, fearing lest the popular
leaders of the Milesians should fly, and desiring also to discover
those who lay hid, he swore he would do them no harm, and on their
believing him and coming forth, he delivered them up to the
oligarchical leaders to be slain, being in all no less than eight
hundred. And, indeed, the slaughter in general of those of the popular
party in the towns exceeded all computation; as he did not kill only
for offenses against himself, but granted these favors without sparing,
and joined in the execution of them, to gratify the many hatreds, and
the much cupidity of his friends everywhere round about him. From
whence the saying of Eteocles, the Lacedaemonian, came to be famous,
that "Greece could not have borne two Lysanders." Theophrastus says,
that Archestratus said the same thing concerning Alcibiades. But in his
case what had given most offense was a certain licentious and wanton
self-will; Lysander's power was feared and hated because of his
unmerciful disposition. The Lacedaemonians did not at all concern
themselves for any other accusers; but afterwards, when Pharnabazus,
having been injured by him, he having pillaged and wasted his country,
sent some to Sparta to inform against him, the Ephors taking it very
ill, put one of his friends and fellow-captains, Thorax, to death,
taking him with some silver privately in his possession; and they sent
him a scroll, commanding him to return home. This scroll is made up
thus; when the Ephors send an admiral or general on his way, they take
two round pieces of wood, both exactly of a length and thickness, and
cut even to one another; they keep one themselves, and the other they
give to the person they send forth; and these pieces of wood they call
Scytales. When, therefore, they have occasion to communicate any secret
or important matter, making a scroll of parchment long and narrow like
a leathern thong, they roll it about their own staff of wood, leaving
no space void between, but covering the surface of the staff with the
scroll all over. When they have done this, they write what they please
on the scroll, as it is wrapped about the staff; and when they have
written, they take off the scroll, and send it to the general without
the wood. He, when he has received it, can read nothing of the writing,
because the words and letters are not connected, but all broken up; but
taking his own staff, he winds the slip of the scroll about it, so that
this folding, restoring all the parts into the same order that they
were in before, and putting what comes first into connection with what
follows, brings the whole consecutive contents to view round the
outside. And this scroll is called a staff, after the name of the wood,
as a thing measured is by the name of the measure.
But Lysander, when the staff came to him to the Hellespont, was
troubled, and fearing Pharnabazus's accusations most, made haste to
confer with him, hoping to end the difference by a meeting together.
When they met, he desired him to write another letter to the
magistrates, stating that he had not been wronged, and had no complaint
to prefer. But he was ignorant that Pharnabazus, as it is in the
proverb, played Cretan against Cretan; for pretending to do all that
was desired, openly he wrote such a letter as Lysander wanted, but kept
by him another, written privately; and when they came to put on the
seals, changed the tablets, which differed not at all to look upon, and
gave him the letter which had been written privately. Lysander,
accordingly, coming to Lacedaemon, and going, as the custom is, to the
magistrates' office, gave Pharnabazus's letter to the Ephors, being
persuaded that the greatest accusation against him was now withdrawn;
for Pharnabazus was beloved by the Lacedaemonians, having been the most
zealous on their side in the war of all the king's captains. But after
the magistrates had read the letter they showed it him, and he
understanding now that
Others beside Ulysses deep can be,
Not the one wise man of the world is he,
in extreme confusion, left them at the time. But a few days after,
meeting the Ephors, he said he must go to the temple of Ammon, and
offer the god the sacrifices which he had vowed in war. For some state
it as a truth, that when he was besieging the city of Aphytae in
Thrace, Ammon stood by him in his sleep; whereupon raising the siege,
supposing the god had commanded it, he bade the Aphytaeans sacrifice to
Ammon, and resolved to make a journey into Libya to propitiate the god.
But most were of opinion that the god was but the presence, and that in
reality he was afraid of the Ephors, and that impatience of the yoke at
home, and dislike of living under authority, made him long for some
travel and wandering, like a horse just brought in from open feeding
and pasture to the stable, and put again to his ordinary work. For that
which Ephorus states to have been the cause of this traveling about, I
shall relate by and by.
And having hardly and with difficulty obtained leave of the magistrates
to depart, he set sail. But the kings, while he was on his voyage,
considering that keeping, as he did, the cities in possession by his
own friends and partisans, he was in fact their sovereign and the lord
of Greece, took measures for restoring the power to the people, and for
throwing his friends out. Disturbances commencing again about these
things, and, first of all, the Athenians from Phyle setting upon their
thirty rulers and overpowering them, Lysander, coming home in haste,
persuaded the Lacedaemonians to support the oligarchies and to put down
the popular governments, and to the thirty in Athens, first of all,
they sent a hundred talents for the war, and Lysander himself, as
general, to assist them. But the kings envying him, and fearing lest he
should take Athens again, resolved that one of themselves should take
the command. Accordingly Pausanias went, and in words, indeed,
professed as if he had been for the tyrants against the people, but in
reality exerted himself for peace, that Lysander might not by the means
of his friends become lord of Athens again. This he brought easily to
pass; for, reconciling the Athenians, and quieting the tumults, he
defeated the ambitious hopes of Lysander, though shortly after, on the
Athenians rebelling again, he was censured for having thus taken, as it
were, the bit out of the mouth of the people, which, being freed from
the oligarchy, would now break out again into affronts and insolence;
and Lysander regained the reputation of a person who employed his
command not in gratification of others, nor for applause, but strictly
for the good of Sparta.
His speech, also, was bold and daunting to such as opposed him. The
Argives, for example, contended about the bounds of their land, and
thought they brought juster pleas than the Lacedaemonians; holding out
his sword, "He," said Lysander, "that is master of this, brings the
best argument about the bounds of territory." A man of Megara, at some
conference, taking freedom with him, "This language, my friend," said
he, "should come from a city." To the Boeotians, who were acting a
doubtful part, he put the question, whether he should pass through
their country with spears upright, or leveled. After the revolt of the
Corinthians, when, on coming to their walls, he perceived the
Lacedaemonians hesitating to make the assault, and a hare was seen to
leap through the ditch: "Are you not ashamed," he said, "to fear an
enemy, for whose laziness, the very hares sleep upon their walls?"
When king Agis died, leaving a brother Agesilaus, and Leotychides, who
was supposed his son, Lysander, being attached to Agesilaus, persuaded
him to lay claim to the kingdom, as being a true descendant of
Hercules; Leotychides lying under the suspicion of being the son of
Alcibiades, who lived privately in familiarity with Timaea, the wife of
Agis, at the time he was a fugitive in Sparta. Agis, they say,
computing the time, satisfied himself that she could not have conceived
by him, and had hitherto always neglected and manifestly disowned
Leotychides; but now when he was carried sick to Heraea, being ready to
die, what by the importunities of the young man himself, and of his
friends, in the presence of many he declared Leotychides to be his; and
desiring those who were present to bear witness of this to the
Lacedaemonians, died. They accordingly did so testify in favor of
Leotychides. And Agesilaus, being otherwise highly reputed of, and
strong in the support of Lysander, was, on the other hand, prejudiced
by Diopithes, a man famous for his knowledge of oracles, who adduced
this prophecy in reference to Agesilaus's lameness:
Beware, great Sparta, lest there come of thee, Though sound thyself, an
halting sovereignty; Troubles, both long and unexpected too, And storms
of deadly warfare shall ensue.
When many, therefore, yielded to the oracle, and inclined to
Leotychides, Lysander said that Diopithes did not take the prophecy
rightly; for it was not that the god would be offended if any lame
person ruled over the Lacedaemonians, but that the kingdom would be a
lame one, if bastards and false-born should govern with the posterity
of Hercules. By this argument, and by his great influence among them,
he prevailed, and Agesilaus was made king.
Immediately, therefore, Lysander spurred him on to make an expedition
into Asia, putting him in hopes that he might destroy the Persians, and
attain the height of greatness. And he wrote to his friends in Asia,
bidding them request to have Agesilaus appointed to command them in the
war against the barbarians; which they were persuaded to, and sent
ambassadors to Lacedaemon to entreat it. And this would seem to be a
second favor done Agesilaus by Lysander, not inferior to his first in
obtaining him the kingdom. But with ambitious natures, otherwise not
ill qualified for command, the feeling of jealousy of those near them
in reputation continually stands in the way of the performance of noble
actions; they make those their rivals in virtue, whom they ought to use
as their helpers to it. Agesilaus took Lysander, among the thirty
counselors that accompanied him, with intentions of using him as his
especial friend; but when they were come into Asia, the inhabitants
there, to whom he was but little known, addressed themselves to him but
little and seldom; whereas Lysander, because of their frequent previous
intercourse, was visited and attended by large numbers, by his friends
out of observance, and by others out of fear; and just as in tragedies
it not uncommonly is the case with the actors, the person who
represents a messenger or servant is much taken notice of, and plays
the chief part, while he who wears the crown and scepter is hardly
heard to speak, even so was it about the counselor, he had all the real
honors of the government, and to the king was left the empty name of
power. This disproportionate ambition ought very likely to have been in
some way softened down, and Lysander should have been reduced to his
proper second place, but wholly to cast off and to insult and affront
for glory's sake, one who was his benefactor and friend, was not worthy
Agesilaus to allow in himself. For, first of all, he gave him no
opportunity for any action, and never set him in any place of command;
then, for whomsoever he perceived him exerting his interest, these
persons he always sent away with a refusal, and with less attention
than any ordinary suitors, thus silently undoing and weakening his
influence.
Lysander, miscarrying in everything, and perceiving that his diligence
for his friends was but a hindrance to them, forbore to help them,
entreating them that they would not address themselves to, nor observe
him, but that they would speak to the king, and to those who could be
of more service to friends than at present he could most, on hearing
this, forbore to trouble him about their concerns; but continued their
observances to him, waiting upon him in the walks and places of
exercise; at which Agesilaus was more annoyed than ever, envying him
the honor; and, finally, when he gave many of the officers places of
command and the governments of cities, he appointed Lysander carver at
his table, adding, by way of insult to the Ionians, "Let them go now,
and pay their court to my carver." Upon this, Lysander thought fit to
come and speak with him; and a brief laconic dialogue passed between
them as follows: "Truly, you know very well, O Agesilaus, how to
depress your friends;" "Those friends," replied he, "who would be
greater than myself; but those who increase my power, it is just should
share in it." "Possibly, O Agesilaus," answered Lysander, "in all this
there may be more said on your part than done on mine, but I request
you, for the sake of observers from without, to place me in any command
under you where you may judge I shall be the least offensive, and most
useful."
Upon this he was sent ambassador to the Hellespont; and though angry
with Agesilaus, yet did not neglect to perform his duty, and having
induced Spithridates the Persian, being offended with Pharnabazus, a
gallant man, and in command of some forces, to revolt, he brought him
to Agesilaus. He was not, however, employed in any other service, but
having completed his time, returned to Sparta, without honor, angry
with Agesilaus, and hating more than ever the whole Spartan government,
and resolved to delay no longer, but while there was yet time, to put
into execution the plans which he appears some time before to have
concerted for a revolution and change in the constitution. These were
as follows. The Heraclidae who joined with the Dorians, and came into
Peloponnesus, became a numerous and glorious race in Sparta, but not
every family belonging to it had the right of succession in the
kingdom, but the kings were chosen out of two only, called the
Eurypontidae and the Agiadae; the rest had no privilege in the
government by their nobility of birth, and the honors which followed
from merit lay open to all who could obtain them. Lysander, who was
born of one of these families, when he had risen into great renown for
his exploits, and had gained great friends and power, was vexed to see
the city which had increased to what it was by him, ruled by others not
at all better descended than himself, and formed a design to remove the
government from the two families, and to give it in common to all the
Heraclidae; or as some say, not to the Heraclidae only, but to all the
Spartans; that the reward might not belong to the posterity of
Hercules, but to those who were like Hercules, judging by that personal
merit which raised even him to the honor of the Godhead; and he hoped
that when the kingdom was thus to be competed for, no Spartan would be
chosen before himself.
Accordingly he first attempted and prepared to persuade the citizens
privately, and studied an oration composed to this purpose by Cleon,
the Halicarnassian. Afterwards perceiving so unexpected and great an
innovation required bolder means of support, he proceeded as it might
be on the stage, to avail himself of machinery, and to try the effects
of divine agency upon his countrymen. He collected and arranged for his
purpose, answers and oracles from Apollo, not expecting to get any
benefit from Cleon's rhetoric, unless he should first alarm and
overpower the minds of his fellow-citizens by religious and
superstitious terrors, before bringing them to the consideration of his
arguments. Ephorus relates, after he had endeavored to corrupt the
oracle of Apollo, and had again failed to persuade the priestesses of
Dodona by means of Pherecles, that he went to Ammon, and discoursed
with the guardians of the oracle there, proffering them a great deal of
gold, and that they, taking this ill, sent some to Sparta to accuse
Lysander; and on his acquittal the Libyans, going away, said, "You will
find us, O Spartans, better judges, when you come to dwell with us in
Libya," there being a certain ancient oracle, that the Lacedaemonians
should dwell in Libya. But as the whole intrigue and the course of the
contrivance was no ordinary one, nor lightly- undertaken, but depended
as it went on, like some mathematical proposition, on a variety of
important admissions, and proceeded through a series of intricate and
difficult steps to its conclusion, we will go into it at length,
following the account of one who was at once an historian and a
philosopher.
There was a woman in Pontus, who professed to be pregnant by Apollo,
which many, as was natural, disbelieved, and many also gave credit to,
and when she had brought forth a man-child, several, not unimportant
persons, took an interest in its rearing and bringing up. The name
given the boy was Silenus, for some reason or other. Lysander, taking
this for the groundwork, frames and devises the rest himself, making
use of not a few, nor these insignificant champions of his story, who
brought the report of the child's birth into credit without any
suspicion. Another report, also, was procured from Delphi and
circulated in Sparta, that there were some very old oracles which were
kept by the priests in private writings; and they were not to be
meddled with neither was it lawful to read them, till one in after
times should come, descended from Apollo, and, on giving some known
token to the keepers, should take the books in which the oracles were.
Things being thus ordered beforehand, Silenus, it was intended, should
come and ask for the oracles, as being the child of Apollo and those
priests who were privy to the design, were to profess to search
narrowly into all particulars, and to question him concerning his
birth; and, finally, were to be convinced, and, as to Apollo's son, to
deliver up to him the writings. Then he, in the presence of many
witnesses, should read amongst other prophecies, that which was the
object of the whole contrivance, relating to the office of the kings,
that it would be better and more desirable to the Spartans to choose
their kings out of the best citizens. And now, Silenus being grown up
to a youth, and being ready for the action, Lysander miscarried in his
drama through the timidity of one of his actors, or assistants, who
just as he came to the point lost heart and drew back. Yet nothing was
found out while Lysander lived, but only after his death.
He died before Agesilaus came back from Asia, being involved, or
perhaps more truly having himself involved Greece, in the Boeotian war.
For it is stated both ways; and the cause of it some make to be
himself, others the Thebans, and some both together; the Thebans, on
the one hand, being charged with casting away the sacrifices at Aulis,
and that being bribed with the king's money brought by Androclides and
Amphitheus, they had with the object of entangling the Lacedaemonians
in a Grecian war, set upon the Phocians, and wasted their country; it
being said, on the other hand, that Lysander was angry that the Thebans
had preferred a claim to the tenth part of the spoils of the war, while
the rest of the confederates submitted without complaint; and because
they expressed indignation about the money which Lysander sent to
Sparta, but most especially, because from them the Athenians had
obtained the first opportunity of freeing themselves from the thirty
tyrants, whom Lysander had made, and to support whom the Lacedaemonians
issued a decree that political refugees from Athens might be arrested
in whatever country they were found, and that those who impeded their
arrest should be excluded from the confederacy. In reply to this the
Thebans issued counter decrees of their own, truly in the spirit and
temper of the actions of Hercules and Bacchus, that every house and
city in Boeotia should be opened to the Athenians who required it, and
that he who did not help a fugitive who was seized, should be fined a
talent for damages, and if any one should bear arms through Boeotia to
Attica against the tyrants, that none of the Thebans should either see
or hear of it. Nor did they pass these humane and truly Greek decrees,
without at the same time making their acts conformable to their words.
For Thrasybulus and those who with him occupied Phyle, set out upon
that enterprise from Thebes, with arms and money, and secrecy and a
point to start from, provided for them by the Thebans. Such were the
causes of complaint Lysander had against Thebes. And being now grown
violent in his temper through the atrabilious tendency which increased
upon him in his old age, he urged the Ephors and persuaded them to
place a garrison in Thebes, and taking the commander's place, he
marched forth with a body of troops. Pausanias, also, the king, was
sent shortly after with an army. Now Pausanias, going round by
Cithaeron, was to invade Boeotia; Lysander, meantime, advanced through
Phocis to meet him, with a numerous body of soldiers. He took the city
of the Orchomenians, who came over to him of their own accord, and
plundered Lebadea. He dispatched also letters to Pausanias, ordering
him to move from Plataea to meet him at Haliartus, and that himself
would be at the walls of Haliartus by break of day. These letters were
brought to the Thebans, the carrier of them falling into the hands of
some Theban scouts. They, having received aid from Athens, committed
their city to the charge of the Athenian troops, and sallying out about
the first sleep, succeeded in reaching Haliartus a little before
Lysander, and part of them entered into the city. He, upon this, first
of all resolved, posting his army upon a hill, to stay for Pausanias;
then as the day advanced, not being able to rest, he bade his men take
up their arms, and encouraging the allies, led them in a column along
the road to the walls. but those Thebans who had remained outside,
taking the city on the left hand, advanced against the rear of their
enemies, by the fountain which is called Cissusa; here they tell the
story that the nurses washed the infant Bacchus after his birth; the
water of it is of a bright wine color, clear, and most pleasant to
drink; and not far off the Cretan storax grows all about, which the
Haliartians adduce in token of Rhadamanthus having dwelt there, and
they show his sepulchre, calling it Alea. And the monument also of
Alcmena is hard by; for there, as they say, she was buried, having
married Rhadamanthus after Amphitryon's death. But the Thebans inside
the city forming in order of battle with the Haliartians stood still
for some time, but on seeing Lysander with a party of those who were
foremost approaching, on a sudden opening the gates and falling on,
they killed him with the soothsayer at his side, and a few others; for
the greater part immediately fled back to the main force. But the
Thebans not slackening, but closely pursuing them, the whole body
turned to fly towards the hills. There were one thousand of them slain;
there died, also, of the Thebans three hundred, who were killed with
their enemies, while chasing them into craggy and difficult places.
These had been under suspicion of favoring the Lacedaemonians, and in
their eagerness to clear themselves in the eyes of their
fellow-citizens, exposed themselves in the pursuit, and so met their
death. News of the disaster reached Pausanias as he was on the way from
Plataea to Thespiae, and having set his army in order he came to
Haliartus; Thrasybulus, also, came from Thebes, leading the Athenians.
Pausanias proposing to request the bodies of the dead under truce, the
elders of the Spartans took it ill, and were angry among themselves,
and coming to the king, declared that Lysander should not be taken away
upon any conditions; if they fought it out by arms about his body, and
conquered, then they might bury him; if they were overcome, it was
glorious to die upon the spot with their commander. When the elders had
spoken these things, Pausanias saw it would be a difficult business to
vanquish the Thebans, who had but just been conquerors; that Lysander's
body also lay near the walls, so that it would be hard for them, though
they overcame, to take it away without a truce; he therefore sent a
herald, obtained a truce, and withdrew his forces, and carrying away
the body of Lysander, they buried it in the first friendly soil they
reached on crossing the Boeotian frontier, in the country of the
Panopaeans; where the monument still stands as you go on the road from
Delphi to Chaeronea. Now the army quartering there, it is said that a
person of Phocis, relating the battle to one who was not in it, said,
the enemies fell upon them just after Lysander had passed over the
Hoplites; surprised at which a Spartan, a friend of Lysander, asked
what Hoplites he meant, for he did not know the name. "It was there,"
answered the Phocian, "that the enemy killed the first of us; the
rivulet by the city is called Hoplites." On hearing which the Spartan
shed tears and observed, how impossible it is for any man to avoid his
appointed lot; Lysander, it appears, having received an oracle, as
follows: --
Sounding Hoplites see thou bear in mind,
And the earthborn dragon following behind.
Some, however, say that Hoplites does not run by Haliartus, but is a
watercourse near Coronea, falling into the river Philarus, not far from
the town in former times called Hoplias, and now Isomantus.
The man of Haliartus who killed Lysander, by name Neochorus, bore on
his shield the device of a dragon; and this, it was supposed, the
oracle signified. It is said, also, that at the time of the
Peloponnesian war, the Thebans received an oracle from the sanctuary of
Ismenus, referring at once to the battle at Delium, and to this which
thirty years after took place at Haliartus. It ran thus: --
Hunting the wolf, observe the utmost bound,
And the hill Orchalides where foxes most are found.
By the words, "the utmost bound," Delium being intended, where Boeotia
touches Attica, and by Orchalides, the hill now called Alopecus, which
lies in the parts of Haliartus towards Helicon.
But such a death befalling Lysander, the Spartans took it so grievously
at the time, that they put the king to a trial for his life, which he
not daring to await, fled to Tegea, and there lived out his life in the
sanctuary of Minerva. The poverty also of Lysander being discovered by
his death, made his merit more manifest, since from so much wealth and
power, from all the homage of the cities, and of the Persian kingdom,
he had not in the least degree, so far as money goes, sought any
private aggrandizement, as Theopompus in his history relates, whom
anyone may rather give credit to when he commends, than when he finds
fault, as it is more agreeable to him to blame than to praise. But
subsequently, Ephorus says, some controversy arising among the allies
at Sparta, which made it necessary to consult the writings which
Lysander had kept by him, Agesilaus came to his house, and finding the
book in which the oration on the Spartan constitution was written at
length, to the effect that the kingdom ought to be taken from the
Eurypontidae and Agiadae, and to be offered in common, and a choice
made out of the best citizens, at first he was eager to make it public,
and to show his countrymen the real character of Lysander. But
Lacratidas, a wise man, and at that time chief of the Ephors, hindered
Agesilaus, and said, they ought not to dig up Lysander again, but
rather to bury with him a discourse, composed so plausibly and
subtlety. Other honors, also, were paid him after his death; and
amongst these they imposed a fine upon those who had engaged themselves
to marry his daughters, and then when Lysander was found to be poor,
after his decease, refused them; because when they thought him rich
they had been observant of him, but now his poverty had proved him just
and good, they forsook him. For there was, it seems, in Sparta, a
punishment for not marrying, for a late, and for a bad marriage; and to
the last penalty those were most especially liable, who sought
alliances with the rich instead of with the good and with their
friends. Such is the account we have found given of Lysander.
SYLLA
Lucius Cornelius Sylla was descended of a patrician or noble family. Of
his ancestors, Rufinus, it is said, had been consul, and incurred a
disgrace more signal than his distinction. For being found possessed of
more than ten pounds of silver plate, contrary to the law, he was for
this reason put out of the senate. His posterity continued ever after
in obscurity, nor had Sylla himself any opulent parentage. In his
younger days he lived in hired lodgings, at a low rate, which in
after-times was adduced against him as proof that he had been fortunate
above his quality. When he was boasting and magnifying himself for his
exploits in Libya, a person of noble station made answer, "And how can
you be an honest man, who, since the death of a father who left you
nothing, have become so rich?" The time in which he lived was no longer
an age of pure and upright manners, but had already declined, and
yielded to the appetite for riches and luxury; yet still, in the
general opinion, they who deserted the hereditary poverty of their
family, were as much blamed as those who had run out a fair patrimonial
estate. And afterwards, when he had seized the power into his hands,
and was putting many to death, a freedman suspected of having concealed
one of the proscribed, and for that reason sentenced to be thrown down
the Tarpeian rock, in a reproachful way recounted, how they had lived
long together under the same roof, himself for the upper rooms paying
two thousand sesterces, and Sylla for the lower three thousand; so that
the difference between their fortunes then was no more than one
thousand sesterces, equivalent in Attic coin to two hundred and fifty
drachmas. And thus much of his early fortune.
His general personal appearance may be known by his statues; only his
blue eyes, of themselves extremely keen and glaring, were rendered all
the more forbidding and terrible by the complexion of his face, in
which white was mixed with rough blotches of fiery red. Hence, it is
said, he was surnamed Sylla, and in allusion to it one of the
scurrilous jesters at Athens made the verse upon him,
Sylla is a mulberry sprinkled o'er with meal.
Nor is it out of place to make use of marks of character like these, in
the case of one who was by nature so addicted to raillery, that in his
youthful obscurer years he would converse freely with players and
professed jesters, and join them in all their low pleasures. And when
supreme master of all, he was often wont to muster together the most
impudent players and stage-followers of the town, and to drink and
bandy jests with them without regard to his age or the dignity of his
place, and to the prejudice of important affairs that required his
attention. When he was once at table, it was not in Sylla's nature to
admit of anything that was serious, and whereas at other times he was a
man of business, and austere of countenance, he underwent all of a
sudden, at his first entrance upon wine and good-fellowship, a total
revolution, and was gentle and tractable with common singers and
dancers, and ready to oblige anyone that spoke with him. It seems to
have been a sort of diseased result of this laxity, that he was so
prone to amorous pleasures, and yielded without resistance to any
temptations of voluptuousness, from which even ill his old age he could
not refrain. He had a long attachment for Metrobius, a player. In his
first amours it happened, that he made court to a common but rich lady,
Nicopolis by name, and, what by the air of his youth, and what by long
intimacy, won so far on her affections, that she rather than he was the
lover, and at her death she bequeathed him her whole property. He
likewise inherited the estate of a step-mother who loved him as her own
son. By these means he had pretty well advanced his fortunes.
He was chosen quaestor to Marius in his first consulship, and set sail
with him for Libya, to war upon Jugurtha. Here, in general, he gained
approbation; and more especially, by closing in dexterously with an
accidental occasion, made a friend of Bocchus, king of Numidia. He
hospitably entertained the king's ambassadors, on their escape from
some Numidian robbers, and after showing them much kindness, sent them
on their journey with presents, and an escort to protect them. Bocchus
had long hated and dreaded his son-in-law, Jugurtha, who had now been
worsted in the field and had fled to him for shelter; and it so
happened, he was at this time entertaining a design to betray him. He
accordingly invited Sylla to come to him, wishing the seizure and
surrender of Jugurtha to be effected rather through him, than directly
by himself. Sylla, when he had communicated the business to Marius, and
received from him a small detachment, voluntarily put himself into this
imminent danger; and confiding in a barbarian, who had been unfaithful
to his own relations, to apprehend another man's person, made surrender
of his own. Bocchus, having both of them now in his power, was
necessitated to betray one or other, and after long debate with
himself, at last resolved on his first design, and gave up Jugurtha
into the hands of Sylla.
For this Marius triumphed, but the glory of the enterprise, which
through people's envy of Marius was ascribed to Sylla, secretly grieved
him. And the truth is, Sylla himself was by nature vainglorious, and
this being the first time that from a low and private condition he had
risen to esteem amongst the citizens and tasted of honor, his appetite
for distinction carried him to such a pitch of ostentation, that he had
a representation of this action engraved on a signet ring; which he
carried about with him, and made use of ever after. The impress was,
Bocchus delivering, and Sylla receiving, Jugurtha. This touched Marius
to the quick; however, judging Sylla to be beneath his rivalry, he made
use of him as lieutenant, in his second consulship, and in his third,
as tribune; and many considerable services were effected by his means.
When acting as lieutenant he took Copillus, chief of the Tectosages,
prisoner, and compelled the Marsians, a great and populous nation, to
become friends and confederates of the Romans.
Henceforward, however, Sylla perceiving that Marius bore a jealous eye
over him, and would no longer afford him opportunities of action, but
rather opposed his advance, attached himself to Catulus, Marius's
colleague, a worthy man, but not energetic enough as a general. And
under this commander, who entrusted him with the highest and most
important commissions, he rose at once to reputation and to power. He
subdued by arms most part of the Alpine barbarians; and when there was
a scarcity in the armies, he took that care upon himself, and brought
in such a store of provisions, as not only to furnish the soldiers of
Catulus with abundance, but likewise to supply Marius. This, as he
writes himself, wounded Marius to the very heart. So slight and
childish were the first occasions and motives of that enmity between
them, which, passing afterwards through a long course of civil
bloodshed and incurable divisions to find its end in tyranny, and the
confusion of the whole State proved Euripides to have been truly wise
and thoroughly acquainted with the causes of disorders in the body
politic, when he forewarned all men to beware of Ambition, as of all
the higher Powers, the most destructive and pernicious to her votaries.
Sylla, by this time thinking that the reputation of his arms abroad was
sufficient to entitle him to a part in the civil administration, he
took himself immediately from the camp to the assembly, and offered
himself as a candidate for a praetorship, but failed. The fault of this
disappointment he wholly ascribes to the populace, who, knowing his
intimacy with king Bocchus, and for that reason expecting, that if he
was made aedile before his praetorship, he would then show them
magnificent hunting-shows and combats between Libyan wild beasts, chose
other praetors, on purpose to force him into the aedileship. The vanity
of this pretext is sufficiently disproved by matter-of-fact. For the
year following, partly by flatteries to the people, and partly by
money, he got himself elected praetor. Accordingly, once while he was
in office, on his angrily telling Caesar that he should make use of his
authority against him, Caesar answered him with a smile, "You do well
to call it your own, as you bought it." At the end of his praetorship
he was sent over into Cappadocia, under the presence of reestablishing
Ariobarzanes in his kingdom, but in reality to keep in check the
restless movements of Mithridates, who was gradually procuring himself
as vast a new acquired power and dominion, as was that of his ancient
inheritance. He carried over with him no great forces of his own, but
making use of the cheerful aid of the confederates, succeeded, with
considerable slaughter of the Cappadocians, and yet greater of the
Armenian succors, in expelling Gordius and establishing Ariobarzanes as
king.
During his stay on the banks of the Euphrates, there came to him
Orobazus, a Parthian, ambassador from king Arsaces, as yet there having
been no correspondence between the two nations. And this also we may
lay to the account of Sylla's felicity, that he should be the first
Roman, to whom the Parthians made address for alliance and friendship.
At the time of which reception, the story is, that having ordered three
chairs of state to be set, one for Ariobarzanes, one for Orobazus, and
a third for himself, he placed himself in the middle, and so gave
audience. For this the king of Parthia afterwards put Orobazus to
death. Some people commended Sylla for his lofty carriage towards the
barbarians; others again accused him of arrogance and unseasonable
display. It is reported, that a certain Chaldaean, of Orobazus's
retinue, looking Sylla wistfully in the face, and observing carefully
the motions of his mind and body, and forming a judgment of his nature,
according to the rules of his art, said that it was impossible for him
not to become the greatest of men; it was rather a wonder how he could
even then abstain from being head of all.
At his return, Censorinus impeached him of extortion, for having
exacted a vast sum of money from a well-affected and associate kingdom.
However, Censorinus did not appear at the trial, but dropped his
accusation. His quarrel, meantime, with Marius began to break out
afresh, receiving new material from the ambition of Bocchus, who, to
please the people of Rome, and gratify Sylla, set up in the temple of
Jupiter Capitolinus images bearing trophies, and a representation in
gold of the surrender of Jugurtha to Sylla. When Marius, in great
anger, attempted to pull them down, and others aided Sylla, the whole
city would have been in tumult and commotion with this dispute, had not
the Social War, which had long lain smoldering blazed forth at last,
and for the present put an end to the quarrel.
In the course of this war, which had many great changes of fortune, and
which, more than any, afflicted the Romans, and, indeed, endangered the
very being of the Commonwealth, Marius was not able to signalize his
valor in any action, but left behind him a clear proof, that warlike
excellence requires a strong and still vigorous body. Sylla, on the
other hand, by his many achievements, gained himself, with his
fellow-citizens, the name of a great commander, while his friends
thought him the greatest of all commanders, and his enemies called him
the most fortunate. Nor did this make the same sort of impression on
him, as it made on Timotheus the son of Conon, the Athenian; who, when
his adversaries ascribed his successes to his good luck, and had a
painting made, representing him asleep, and Fortune by his side,
casting her nets over the cities, was rough and violent in his
indignation at those who did it, as if by attributing all to Fortune,
they had robbed him of his just honors; and said to the people on one
occasion at his return from war, "In this, ye men of Athens, Fortune
had no part." A piece of boyish petulance, which the deity, we are
told, played back upon Timotheus; who from that time was never able to
achieve anything that was great, but proving altogether unfortunate in
his attempts, and falling into discredit with the people, was at last
banished the city. Sylla, on the contrary, not only accepted with
pleasure the credit of such divine felicities and favors, but joining
himself in extolling and glorifying what was done, gave the honor of
all to Fortune, whether it were out of boastfulness, or a real feeling
of divine agency. He remarks, in his Memoirs, that of all his well
advised actions, none proved so lucky in the execution, as what he had
boldly enterprised, not by calculation, but upon the moment. And in the
character which he gives of himself, that he was born for fortune
rather than war, he seems to give Fortune a higher place than merit,
and in short, makes himself entirely the creature of a superior power,
accounting even his concord with Metellus, his equal in office, and his
connection by marriage, a piece of preternatural felicity. For
expecting to have met in him a most troublesome, he found him a most
accommodating colleague. Moreover, in the Memoirs which he dedicated to
Lucullus, he admonishes him to esteem nothing more trustworthy, than
what the divine powers advise him by night. And when he was leaving the
city with an army, to fight in the Social War, he relates, that the
earth near the Laverna opened, and a quantity of fire came rushing out
of it, shooting up with a bright flame into the heavens. The
soothsayers upon this foretold, that a person of great qualities, and
of a rare and singular aspect, should take the government in hand, and
quiet the present troubles of the city. Sylla affirms he was the man,
for his golden head of hair made him an extraordinary-looking man, nor
had he any shame, after the great actions he had done, in testifying to
his own great qualities. And thus much of his opinion as to divine
agency.
In general he would seem to have been of a very irregular character,
full of inconsistencies with himself; much given to rapine, to
prodigality yet more; in promoting or disgracing whom he pleased, alike
unaccountable; cringing to those he stood in need of, and domineering
over others who stood in need of him, so that it was hard to tell,
whether his nature had more in it of pride or of servility. As to his
unequal distribution of punishments, as, for example, that upon slight
grounds he would put to the torture, and again would bear patiently
with the greatest wrongs; would readily forgive and be reconciled after
the most heinous acts of enmity, and yet would visit small and
inconsiderable offenses with death, and confiscation of goods; one
might judge, that in himself he was really of a violent and revengeful
nature, which however he could qualify, upon reflection, for his
interest. In this very Social War, when the soldiers with stones and
clubs had killed an officer of praetorian rank, his own lieutenant,
Albinus by name, he passed by this flagrant crime without any inquiry,
giving it out moreover in a boast, that the soldiers would behave all
the better now, to make amends, by some special bravery, for their
breach of discipline. He took no notice of the clamors of those that
cried for justice, but designing already to supplant Marius, now that
he saw the Social War near its end, he made much of his army, in hopes
to get himself declared general of the forces against Mithridates.
At his return to Rome, he was chosen Consul with Quintus Pompeius, in
the fiftieth year of his age, and made a most distinguished marriage
with Caecilia, daughter of Metellus, the chief priest. The common
people made a variety of verses in ridicule of the marriage, and many
of the nobility also were disgusted at it, esteeming him, as Livy
writes, unworthy of this connection, whom before they thought worthy of
a consulship. This was not his only wife, for first, in his younger
days, he was married to Ilia, by whom he had a daughter; after her to
Aelia; and thirdly to Cloelia, whom he dismissed as barren, but
honorably, and with professions of respect, adding, moreover, presents.
But the match between him and Metella, falling out a few days after,
occasioned suspicions that he had complained of Cloelia without due
cause. To Metella he always showed great deference, so much so that the
people, when anxious for the recall of the exiles of Marius's party,
upon his refusal, entreated the intercession of Metella. And the
Athenians, it is thought, had harder measure, at the capture of their
town, because they used insulting language to Metella in their jests
from the walls during the siege. But of this hereafter.
At present esteeming the consulship but a small matter in comparison of
things to come, he was impatiently carried away in thought to the
Mithridatic War. Here he was withstood by Marius; who out of mad
affectation of glory and thirst for distinction, those never dying
passions, though he were now unwieldy in body, and had given up
service, on account of his age, during the late campaigns, still
coveted after command in a distant war beyond the seas. And whilst
Sylla was departed for the camp, to order the rest of his affairs
there, he sat brooding at home, and at last hatched that execrable
sedition, which wrought Rome more mischief than all her enemies
together had done, as was indeed foreshown by the gods. For a flame
broke forth of its own accord, from under the staves of the ensigns,
and was with difficulty extinguished. Three ravens brought their young
into the open road, and ate them, carrying the relics into the nest
again. Mice having gnawed the consecrated gold in one of the temples,
the keepers caught one of them, a female, in a trap; and she bringing
forth five young ones in the very trap, devoured three of them. But
what was greatest of all, in a calm and clear sky there was heard the
sound of a trumpet, with such a loud and dismal blast, as struck terror
and amazement into the hearts of the people. The Etruscan sages
affirmed, that this prodigy betokened the mutation of the age, and a
general revolution in the world. For according to them there are in all
eight ages, differing one from another in the lives and the characters
of men, and to each of these God has allotted a certain measure of
time, determined by the circuit of the great year. And when one age is
run out, at the approach of another, there appears some wonderful sign
from earth or heaven, such as makes it manifest at once to those who
have made it their business to study such things, that there has
succeeded in the world a new race of men, differing in customs and
institutes of life, and more or less regarded by the gods, than the
preceding. Amongst other great changes that happen, as they say, at the
turn of ages, the art of divination, also, at one time rises in esteem,
and is more successful in its predictions, clearer and surer tokens
being sent from God, and then again, in another generation declines as
low, becoming mere guesswork for the most part, and discerning future
events by dim and uncertain intimations. This was the mythology of the
wisest of the Tuscan sages, who were thought to possess a knowledge
beyond other men. Whilst the Senate sat in consultation with the
soothsayers, concerning these prodigies, in the temple of Bellona, a
sparrow came flying in, before them all, with a grasshopper in its
mouth, and letting fall one part of it, flew away with the remainder.
The diviners foreboded commotions and dissension between the great
landed proprietors and the common city populace; the latter, like the
grasshopper, being loud and talkative; while the sparrow might
represent the "dwellers in the field."
Marius had taken into alliance Sulpicius, the tribune, a man second to
none in any villanies, so that it was less the question what others he
surpassed, but rather in what respects he most surpassed himself in
wickedness. He was cruel, bold, rapacious, and in all these points
utterly shameless and unscrupulous; not hesitating to offer Roman
citizenship by public sale to freed slaves and aliens, and to count out
the price on public money-tables in the forum. He maintained three
thousand swordsmen, and had always about him a company of young men of
the equestrian class ready for all occasions, whom he styled his
Anti-Senate. Having had a law enacted, that no senator should contract
a debt of above two thousand drachmas, he himself, after death, was
found indebted three millions. This was the man whom Marius let in upon
the Commonwealth, and who, confounding all things by force and the
sword, made several ordinances of dangerous consequence, and amongst
the rest, one giving Marius the conduct of the Mithridatic war. Upon
this the consuls proclaimed a public cessation of business, but as they
were holding an assembly near the temple of Castor and Pollux, he let
loose the rabble upon them, and amongst many others slew the consul
Pompeius's young son in the forum, Pompeius himself hardly escaping in
the crowd. Sylla being closely pursued into the house of Marius, was
forced to come forth and dissolve the cessation; and for his doing
this, Sulpicius, having deposed Pompeius, allowed Sylla to continue his
consulship, only transferring the Mithridatic expedition to Marius.
There were immediately dispatched to Nola tribunes, to receive the
army, and bring it to Marius; but Sylla having got first to the camp,
and the soldiers, upon hearing of the news, having stoned the tribunes,
Marius, in requital, proceeded to put the friends of Sylla in the city
to the sword, and rifled their goods. Every kind of removal and flight
went on, some hastening from the camp to the city, others from the city
to the camp. The senate, no more in its own power, but wholly governed
by the dictates of Marius and Sulpicius, alarmed at the report of
Sylla's advancing with his troops towards the city, sent forth two of
the praetors, Brutus and Servilius, to forbid his nearer approach. The
soldiers would have slain these praetors in a fury, for their bold
language to Sylla; contenting themselves, however, with breaking their
rods, and tearing off their purple-edged robes, after much contumelious
usage they sent them back, to the sad dejection of the citizens, who
beheld their magistrates despoiled of their badges of office, and
announcing to them, that things were now manifestly come to a rupture
past all cure. Marius put himself in readiness, and Sylla with his
colleague moved from Nola, at the head of six complete legions, all of
them willing to march up directly against the city, though he himself
as yet was doubtful in thought, and apprehensive of the danger. As he
was sacrificing, Postumius the soothsayer, having inspected the
entrails, stretching forth both hands to Sylla, required to be bound
and kept in custody till the battle was over, as willing, if they had
not speedy and complete success, to suffer the utmost punishment. It is
said, also, that there appeared to Sylla himself in a dream, a certain
goddess, whom the Romans learnt to worship from the Cappadocians,
whether it be the Moon, or Pallas, or Bellona. This same goddess, to
his thinking, stood by him, and put into his hand thunder and
lightning, then naming his enemies one by one, bade him strike them,
who, all of them, fell on the discharge and disappeared. Encouraged by
this vision, and relating it to his colleague, next day he led on
towards Rome. About Picinae being met by a deputation, beseeching him
not to attack at once, in the heat of a march, for that the senate had
decreed to do him all the right imaginable, he consented to halt on the
spot, and sent his officers to measure out the ground, as is usual, for
a camp; so that the deputation, believing it, returned. They were no
sooner gone, but he sent a party on under the command of Lucius
Basillus and Caius Mummius, to secure the city gate, and the walls on
the side of the Esquiline hill, and then close at their heels followed
himself with all speed. Basillus made his way successfully into the
city, but the unarmed multitude, pelting him with stones and tiles from
off the houses, stopped his further progress, and beat him back to the
wall. Sylla by this time was come up, and seeing what was going on,
called aloud to his men to set fire to the houses, and taking a flaming
torch, he himself led the way, and commanded the archers to make use of
their fire-darts, letting fly at the tops of houses; all which he did,
not upon any plan, but simply in his fury, yielding the conduct of that
day's work to passion, and as if all he saw were enemies, without
respect or pity either to friend, relations, or acquaintance, made his
entry by fire, which knows no distinction betwixt friend or foe.
In this conflict, Marius being driven into the temple of Mother-Earth,
thence invited the slaves by proclamation of freedom, but the enemy
coming on he was overpowered and fled the city.
Sylla having called a senate, had sentence of death passed on Marius,
and some few others, amongst whom was Sulpicius, tribune of the people.
Sulpicius was killed, being betrayed by his servant, whom Sylla first
made free, and then threw him headlong down the Tarpeian rock. As for
Marius, he set a price on his life, by proclamation, neither gratefully
nor politicly, if we consider into whose house, not long before he put
himself at mercy, and was safely dismissed. Had Marius at that time not
let Sylla go, but suffered him to be slain by the hands of Sulpicius,
he might have been lord of all; nevertheless he spared his life, and a
few days after, when in a similar position himself, received a
different measure.
By these proceedings, Sylla excited the secret distaste of the senate;
but the displeasure and free indignation of the commonalty showed
itself plainly by their actions. For they ignominiously rejected
Nonius, his nephew, and Servius, who stood for offices of state by his
interest, and elected others as magistrates, by honoring whom they
thought they should most annoy him. He made semblance of extreme
satisfaction at all this, as if the people by his means had again
enjoyed the liberty of doing what seemed best to them. And to pacify
the public hostility, he created Lucius Cinna consul, one of the
adverse party, having first bound him under oaths and imprecations to
be favorable to his interest. For Cinna, ascending the capitol with a
stone in his hand, swore solemnly, and prayed with direful curses, that
he himself, if he were not true to his friendship with Sylla, might be
cast out of the city, as that stone out of his hand; and thereupon cast
the stone to the ground, in the presence of many people. Nevertheless
Cinna had no sooner entered on his charge, but he took measures to
disturb the present settlement, and having prepared an impeachment
against Sylla, got Virginius, one of the tribunes of the people, to be
his accuser; but Sylla, leaving him and the court of judicature to
themselves, set forth against Mithridates.
About the time that Sylla was making ready to put oft with his forces
from Italy, besides many other omens which befell Mithridates, then
staying at Pergamus, there goes a story that a figure of Victory, with
a crown in her hand, which the Pergamenians by machinery from above let
down on him, when it had almost reached his head, fell to pieces, and
the crown tumbling down into the midst of the theater, there broke
against the ground, occasioning a general alarm among the populace, and
considerably disquieting Mithridates himself, although his affairs at
that time were succeeding beyond expectation. For having wrested Asia
from the Romans, and Bithynia and Cappadocia from their kings, he made
Pergamus his royal seat, distributing among his friends riches,
principalities, and kingdoms. Of his sons, one residing in Pontus and
Bosporus held his ancient realm as far as the deserts beyond the lake
Maeotis, without molestation; while Ariarathes, another, was reducing
Thrace and Macedon, with a great army, to obedience. His generals, with
forces under them, were establishing his supremacy in other quarters.
Archelaus, in particular, with his fleet, held absolute mastery of the
sea, and was bringing into subjection the Cyclades, and all the other
islands as far as Malea, and had taken Euboea itself. Making Athens his
head-quarters, from thence as far as Thessaly he was withdrawing the
States of Greece from the Roman allegiance, without the least ill
success, except at Chaeronea. For here Bruttius Sura, lieutenant to
Sentius, governor of Macedon, a man of singular valor and prudence, met
him, and, though he came like a torrent pouring over Boeotia, made
stout resistance, and thrice giving him battle near Chaeronea, repulsed
and forced him back to the sea. But being commanded by Lucius Lucullus
to give place to his successor, Sylla, and resign the war to whom it
was decreed, he presently left Boeotia, and retired back to Sentius,
although his success had outgone all hopes, and Greece was well
disposed to a new revolution, upon account of his gallant behavior.
These were the glorious actions of Bruttius.
Sylla, on his arrival, received by their deputations the compliments of
all the cities of Greece, except Athens, against which, as it was
compelled by the tyrant Aristion to hold for the king, he advanced with
all his forces, and investing the Piraeus, laid formal siege to it,
employing every variety of engines, and trying every manner of assault;
whereas, had he forbore but a little while, he might without hazard
have taken the Upper City by famine, it being already reduced to the
last extremity, through want of necessaries. But eager to return to
Rome, and fearing innovation there, at great risk, with continual
fighting and vast expense, he pushed on the war. Besides other
equipage, the very work about the engines of battery was supplied with
no less than ten thousand yoke of mules, employed daily in that
service. And when timber grew scarce, for many of the works failed,
some crushed to pieces by their own weight, others taking fire by the
continual play of the enemy, he had recourse to the sacred groves, and
cut down the trees of the Academy, the shadiest of all the suburbs, and
the Lyceum. And a vast sum of money being wanted to carry on the war,
he broke into the sanctuaries of Greece, that of Epidaurus and that of
Olympia, sending for the most beautiful and precious offerings
deposited there. He wrote, likewise, to the Amphictyons, at Delphi,
that it were better to remit the wealth of the god to him, for that he
would keep it more securely, or in case he made use of it, restore as
much. He sent Caphis, the Phocian, one of his friends, with this
message, commanding him to receive each item by weight. Caphis came to
Delphi, but was loath to touch the holy things, and with many tears, in
the presence of the Amphyctyons, bewailed the necessity. And on some of
them declaring they heard the sound of a harp from the inner shrine,
he, whether he himself believed it, or was willing to try the effect of
religious fear upon Sylla, sent back an express. To which Sylla replied
in a scoffing way, that it was surprising to him that Caphis did not
know that music was a sign of joy, not anger; he should, therefore, go
on boldly, and accept what a gracious and bountiful god offered.
Other things were sent away without much notice on the part of the
Greeks in general, but in the case of the silver tun, that only relic
of the regal donations, which its weight and bulk made it impossible
for any carriage to receive, the Amphictyons were forced to cut it into
pieces, and called to mind in so doing, how Titus Flamininus, and
Manius Acilius, and again Paulus Aemilius, one of whom drove Antiochus
out of Greece, and the others subdued the Macedonian kings, had not
only abstained from violating the Greek temples, but had even given
them new gifts and honors, and increased the general veneration for
them. They, indeed, the lawful commanders of temperate and obedient
soldiers, and themselves great in soul, and simple in expenses, lived
within the bounds of the ordinary established charges, accounting it a
greater disgrace to seek popularity with their men, than to feel fear
of their enemy. Whereas the commanders of these times, attaining to
superiority by force, not worth, and having need of arms one against
another, rather than against the public enemy, were constrained to
temporize in authority, and in order to pay for the gratifications with
which they purchased the labor of their soldiers, were driven, before
they knew it, to sell the commonwealth itself, and, to gain the mastery
over men better than themselves, were content to become slaves to the
vilest of wretches. These practices drove Marius into exile, and again
brought him in against Sylla. These made Cinna the assassin of
Octavius, and Fimbria of Flaccus. To which courses Sylla contributed
not the least; for to corrupt and win over those who were under the
command of others, he would be munificent and profuse towards those who
were under his own; and so, while tempting the soldiers of other
generals to treachery, and his own to dissolute living, he was
naturally in want of a large treasury, and especially during that siege.
Sylla had a vehement and an implacable desire to conquer Athens,
whether out of emulation, fighting as it were against the shadow of the
once famous city, or out of anger, at the foul words and scurrilous
jests with which the tyrant Aristion, showing himself daily, with
unseemly gesticulations, upon the walls, had provoked him and Metella.
The tyrant Aristion had his very being compounded of wantonness and
cruelty, having gathered into himself all the worst of Mithridates's
diseased and vicious qualities, like some fatal malady which the city,
after its deliverance from innumerable wars, many tyrannies and
seditions, was in its last days destined to endure. At the time when a
medimnus of wheat was sold in the city for one thousand drachmas, and
men were forced to live on the feverfew growing round the citadel, and
to boil down shoes and oil-bags for their food, he, carousing and
feasting in the open face of day, then dancing in armor, and making
jokes at the enemy, suffered the holy lamp of the goddess to expire for
want of oil, and to the chief priestess, who demanded of him the
twelfth part of a medimnus of wheat, he sent the like quantity of
pepper. The senators and priests, who came as suppliants to beg of him
to take compassion on the city, and treat for peace with Sylla, he
drove away and dispersed with a flight of arrows. At last, with much
ado, he sent forth two or three of his reveling companions to parley,
to whom Sylla, perceiving that they made no serious overtures towards
an accommodation, but went on haranguing in praise of Theseus,
Eumolpus, and the Median trophies, replied, "My good friends, you may
put up your speeches and be gone. I was sent by the Romans to Athens,
not to take lessons, but to reduce rebels to obedience."
In the meantime news came to Sylla that some old men, talking in the
Ceramicus, had been overheard to blame the tyrant for not securing the
passages and approaches near the Heptachalcum, the one point where the
enemy might easily get over. Sylla neglected not the report, but going
in the night, and discovering the place to be assailable, set instantly
to work. Sylla himself makes mention in his Memoirs, that Marcus Teius,
the first man who scaled the wall, meeting with an adversary, and
striking him on the headpiece a home stroke, broke his own sword, but,
notwithstanding, did not give ground, but stood and held him fast. The
city was certainly taken from that quarter, according to the tradition
of the oldest of the Athenians.
When they had thrown down the wall, and made all level betwixt the
Piraic and Sacred Gate, about midnight Sylla entered the breach, with
all the terrors of trumpets and cornets sounding, with the triumphant
shout and cry of an army let loose to spoil and slaughter, and scouring
through the streets with swords drawn. There was no numbering the
slain; the amount is to this day conjectured only from the space of
ground overflowed with blood. For without mentioning the execution done
in other quarters of the city, the blood that was shed about the
marketplace spread over the whole Ceramicus within the Double-gate,
and, according to most writers, passed through the gate and overflowed
the suburb. Nor did the multitudes which fell thus exceed the number of
those, who, out of pity and love for their country, which they believed
was now finally to perish, slew themselves; the best of them, through
despair of their country's surviving, dreading themselves to survive,
expecting neither humanity nor moderation in Sylla. At length, partly
at the instance of Midias and Calliphon, two exiled men, beseeching and
casting themselves at his feet, partly by the intercession of those
senators who followed the camp, having had his fill of revenge, and
making some honorable mention of the ancient Athenians, "I forgive,"
said he, "the many for the sake of the few, the living for the dead."
He took Athens, according to his own Memoirs, on the calends of March,
coinciding pretty nearly with the new moon of Anthesterion, on which
day it is the Athenian usage to perform various acts in commemoration
of the ruins and devastations occasioned by the deluge, that being
supposed to be the time of its occurrence.
At the taking of the town, the tyrant fled into the citadel, and was
there besieged by Curio, who had that charge given him. He held out a
considerable time, but at last yielded himself up for want of water,
and divine power immediately intimated its agency in the matter. For on
the same day and hour that Curio conducted him down, the clouds
gathered in a clear sky, and there came down a great quantity of rain
and filled the citadel with water.
Not long after, Sylla won the Piraeus, and burnt most of it; amongst
the rest, Philo's arsenal, a work very greatly admired.
In the mean time Taxiles, Mithridates's general, coming down from
Thrace and Macedon, with an army of one hundred thousand foot, ten
thousand horse, and ninety chariots, armed with scythes at the wheels,
would have joined Archelaus, who lay with a navy on the coast near
Munychia, reluctant to quit the sea, and yet unwilling to engage the
Romans in battle, but desiring to protract the war and cut off the
enemy's supplies. Which Sylla perceiving much better than himself,
passed with his forces into Boeotia, quitting a barren district which
was inadequate to maintain an army even in time of peace. He was
thought by some to have taken false measures in thus leaving Attica, a
rugged country, and ill suited for cavalry to move in, and entering the
plain and open fields of Boeotia, knowing as he did the barbarian
strength to consist most in horses and chariots. But as was said
before, to avoid famine and scarcity, he was forced to run the risk of
a battle. Moreover he was in anxiety for Hortensius, a bold and active
officer, whom on his way to Sylla with forces from Thessaly, the
barbarians awaited in the straits. For these reasons Sylla drew off
into Boeotia. Hortensius, meantime, was conducted by Caphis, our
countryman, another way unknown to the barbarians, by Parnassus, just
under Tithora, which was then not so large a town as it is now, but a
mere fort, surrounded by steep precipices, whither the Phocians also,
in old time, when flying from the invasion of Xerxes, carried
themselves and their goods and were saved. Hortensius, encamping here,
kept off the enemy by day, and at night descending by difficult
passages to Patronis, joined the forces of Sylla, who came to meet him.
Thus united they posted themselves on a fertile hill in the middle of
the plain of Elatea, shaded with trees and watered at the foot. It is
called Philoboeotus, and its situation and natural advantages are
spoken of with great admiration by Sylla.
As they lay thus encamped, they seemed to the enemy a contemptible
number, for they were not above fifteen hundred horse, and less than
fifteen thousand foot. Therefore the rest of the commanders,
overpersuading Archelaus, and drawing up the army, covered the plain
with horses, chariots, bucklers, targets. The clamor and cries of so
many nations forming for battle rent the air, nor was the pomp and
ostentation of their costly array altogether idle and unserviceable for
terror; for the brightness of their armor, embellished magnificently
with gold and silver, and the rich colors of their Median and Scythian
coats, intermixed with brass and shining steel, presented a flaming and
terrible sight as they swayed about and moved in their ranks, so much
so that the Romans shrunk within their trenches, and Sylla, unable by
any arguments to remove their fear, and unwilling to force them to
fight against their wills, was fain to sit down in quiet, ill-brooking
to become the subject of barbarian insolence and laughter. This,
however, above all advantaged him, for the enemy, from contemning of
him, fell into disorder amongst themselves, being already less
thoroughly under command, on account of the number of their leaders.
Some few of them remained within the encampment, but others, the major
part, lured out with hopes of prey and rapine, strayed about the
country many days journey from the camp, and are related to have
destroyed the city of Panope, to have plundered Lebadea, and robbed the
oracle without any orders from their commanders.
Sylla, all this while, chafing and fretting to see the cities all
around destroyed, suffered not the soldiery to remain idle, but leading
them out, compelled them to divert the Cephisus from its ancient
channel by casting up ditches, and giving respite to none, showed
himself rigorous in punishing the remiss, that growing weary of labor,
they might be induced by hardship to embrace danger. Which fell out
accordingly, for on the third day, being hard at work as Sylla passed
by, they begged and clamored to be led against the enemy. Sylla
replied, that this demand of war proceeded rather from a backwardness
to labor than any forwardness to fight, but if they were in good
earnest martially inclined, he bade them take their arms and get up
thither, pointing to the ancient citadel of the Parapotamians, of which
at present, the city being laid waste, there remained only the rocky
hill itself, steep and craggy on all sides, and severed from Mount
Hedylium by the breadth of the river Assus, which running between, and
at the bottom of the same hill falling into the Cephisus with an
impetuous confluence, makes this eminence a strong position for
soldiers to occupy. Observing that the enemy's division, called the
Brazen Shields, were making their way up thither, Sylla was willing to
take first possession, and by the vigorous efforts of the soldiers,
succeeded. Archelaus, driven from hence, bent his forces upon
Chaeronea. The Chaeroneans who bore arms in the Roman camp beseeching
Sylla not to abandon the city, he dispatched Gabinius, a tribune, with
one legion, and sent out also the Chaeroneans, who endeavored, but were
not able to get in before Gabinius; so active was he, and more zealous
to bring relief than those who had entreated it. Juba writes that
Ericius was the man sent, not Gabinius. Thus narrowly did our native
city escape.
From Lebadea and the cave of Trophonius there came favorable rumors and
prophecies of victory to the Romans, of which the inhabitants of those
places give a fuller account, but as Sylla himself affirms in the tenth
book of his Memoirs, Quintus Titius, a man of some repute among the
Romans who were engaged in mercantile business in Greece, came to him
after the battle won at Chaeronea, and declared that Trophonius had
foretold another fight and victory on the same place, within a short
time. After him a soldier, by name Salvenius, brought an account from
the god of the future issue of affairs in Italy. As to the vision, they
both agreed in this, that they had seen one who in stature and in
majesty was similar to Jupiter Olympius.
Sylla, when he had passed over the Assus, marching under the Mount
Hedylium, encamped close to Archelaus, who had entrenched himself
strongly between the mountains Acontium and Hedylium, close to what are
called the Assia. The place of his entrenchment is to this day named
from him, Archelaus. Sylla, after one day's respite, having left Murena
behind him with one legion and two cohorts to amuse the enemy with
continual alarms, himself went and sacrificed on the banks of Cephisus,
and the holy rites ended, held on towards Chaeronea to receive the
forces there and view Mount Thurium, where a party of the enemy had
posted themselves. This is a craggy height running up in a conical form
to a point, called by us Orthopagus; at the foot of it is the river
Morius and the temple of Apollo Thurius. The god had his surname from
Thuro, mother of Chaeron, whom ancient record makes founder of
Chaeronea. Others assert that the cow which Apollo gave to Cadmus for a
guide appeared there, and that the place took its name from the beast,
Thor being the Phoenician word for a cow.
At Sylla's approach to Chaeronea, the tribune who had been appointed to
guard the city led out his men in arms, and met him with a garland of
laurel in his hand; which Sylla accepting, and at the same time
saluting the soldiers and animating them to the encounter, two men of
Chaeronea, Homoloichus and Anaxidamus, presented themselves before him,
and offered, with a small party, to dislodge those who were posted on
Thurium. For there lay a path out of sight of the barbarians, from what
is called Petrochus along by the Museum, leading right down from above
upon Thurium. By this way it was easy to fall upon them and either
stone them from above, or force them down into the plain. Sylla,
assured of their faith and courage by Gabinius, bade them proceed with
the enterprise, and meantime drew up the army, and disposing the
cavalry on both wings, himself took command of the right; the left
being committed to the direction of Murena. In the rear of all, Galba
and Hortensius, his lieutenants, planted themselves on the upper
grounds with the cohorts of reserve, to watch the motions of the enemy,
who with numbers of horse and swift-footed, light-armed infantry, were
noticed to have so formed their wing as to allow it readily to change
about and alter its position, and thus gave reason for suspecting that
they intended to carry it far out and so to enclose the Romans.
In the meanwhile, the Chaeroneans, who had Ericius for commander by
appointment of Sylla, covertly making their way around Thurium, and
then discovering themselves, occasioned a great confusion and rout
amongst the barbarians, and slaughter, for the most part, by their own
hands. For they kept not their place, but making down the steep
descent, ran themselves on their own spears, and violently sent each
other over the cliffs, the enemy from above pressing on and wounding
them where they exposed their bodies; insomuch that there fell three
thousand about Thurium. Some of those who escaped, being met by Murena
as he stood in array, were cut off and destroyed. Others breaking
through to their friends and falling pell-mell into the ranks, filled
most part of the army with fear and tumult, and caused a hesitation and
delay among the generals, which was no small disadvantage. For
immediately upon the discomposure, Sylla coming full speed to the
charge, and quickly crossing the interval between the armies, lost them
the service of their armed chariots, which require a consider able
space of ground to gather strength and impetuosity in their career, a
short course being weak and ineffectual, like that of missiles without
a full swing. Thus it fared with the barbarians at present, whose first
chariots came feebly on and made but a faint impression; the Romans
repulsing them with shouts and laughter, called out as they do at the
races in the circus, for more to come. By this time the mass of both
armies met; the barbarians on one side fixed their long pikes, and with
their shields locked close together, strove so far as in them lay to
preserve their line of battle entire. The Romans, on the other side,
having discharged their javelins, rushed on with their drawn swords,
and struggled to put by the pikes to get at them the sooner, in the
fury that possessed them at seeing in the front of the enemy fifteen
thousand slaves, whom the royal commanders had set free by
proclamation, and ranged amongst the men of arms. And a Roman centurion
is reported to have said at this sight, that he never knew servants
allowed to play the masters, unless at the Saturnalia. These men by
their deep and solid array, as well as by their daring courage, yielded
but slowly to the legions, till at last by slinging engines, and darts,
which the Romans poured in upon them behind, they were forced to give
way and scatter.
As Archelaus was extending the right wing to encompass the enemy,
Hortensius with his cohorts came down in force, with intention to
charge him in the flank. But Archelaus wheeling about suddenly with two
thousand horse, Hortensius, outnumbered and hard pressed, fell back
towards the higher grounds, and found himself gradually getting
separated from the main body and likely to be surrounded by the enemy.
When Sylla heard this, he came rapidly up to his succor from the right
wing, which as yet had not engaged. But Archelaus, guessing the matter
by the dust of his troops, turned to the right wing, from whence Sylla
came, in hopes to surprise it without a commander. At the same instant,
likewise, Taxiles, with his Brazen Shields, assailed Murena, so that a
cry coming from both places, and the hills repeating it around, Sylla
stood in suspense which way to move. Deciding to resume his own
station, he sent in aid to Murena four cohorts under Hortensius, and
commanding the fifth to follow him, returned hastily to the right wing,
which of itself held its ground on equal terms against Archelaus; and,
at his appearance, with one bold effort forced them back, and,
obtaining the mastery, followed them, flying in disorder to the river
and Mount Acontium. Sylla, however, did not forget the danger Murena
was in; but hasting thither and finding him victorious also, then
joined in the pursuit. Many barbarians were slain in the field, many
more were cut in pieces as they were making into the camp. Of all the
vast multitude, ten thousand only got safe into Chalcis. Sylla writes
that there were but fourteen of his soldiers missing, and that two of
these returned towards evening; he, therefore, inscribed on the
trophies the names of Mars, Victory, and Venus, as having won the day
no less by good fortune than by management and force of arms. This
trophy of the battle in the plain stands on the place where Archelaus
first gave way, near the stream of the Molus; another is erected high
on the top of Thurium, where the barbarians were environed, with an
inscription in Greek, recording that the glory of the day belonged to
Homoloichus and Anaxidamus. Sylla celebrated his victory at Thebes with
spectacles, for which he erected a stage, near Oedipus's well. The
judges of the performances were Greeks chosen out of other cities; his
hostility to the Thebans being implacable, half of whose territory he
took away and consecrated to Apollo and Jupiter, ordering that out of
the revenue compensation should be made to the gods for the riches
himself had taken from them.
After this, hearing that Flaccus, a man of the contrary faction, had
been chosen consul, and was crossing the Ionian Sea with an army,
professedly to act against Mithridates, but in reality against himself,
he hastened towards Thessaly, designing to meet him, but in his march,
when near Melitea, received advices from all parts that the countries
behind him were overrun and ravaged by no less a royal army than the
former. For Dorylaus, arriving at Chalcis with a large fleet, on board
of which he brought over with him eighty thousand of the best appointed
and best disciplined soldiers of Mithridates's army, at once invaded
Boeotia, and occupied the country in hopes to bring Sylla to a battle,
making no account of the dissuasions of Archelaus, but giving it out as
to the last fight, that without treachery so many thousand men could
never have perished. Sylla, however, facing about expeditiously, made
it clear to him that Archelaus was a wise man, and had good skill in
the Roman valor; insomuch that he himself, after some small skirmishes
with Sylla near Tilphossium, was the first of those who thought it not
advisable to put things to the decision of the sword, but rather to
wear out the war by expense of time and treasure. The ground, however,
near Orchomenus, where they then lay encamped, gave some encouragement
to Archelaus, being a battle field admirably suited for an army
superior in cavalry. Of all the plains in Boeotia that are renowned for
their beauty and extent, this alone, which commences from the city of
Orchomenus, spreads out unbroken and clear of trees to the edge of the
fens in which the Melas, rising close under Orchomenus, loses itself,
the only Greek river which is a deep and navigable water from the very
head, increasing also about the summer solstice like the Nile, and
producing plants similar to those that grow there, only small and
without fruit. It does not run far before the main stream disappears
among the blind and woody marsh-grounds; a small branch. however, joins
the Cephisus, about the place where the lake is thought to produce the
best flute-reeds.
Now that both armies were posted near each other, Archelaus lay still,
but Sylla employed himself in cutting ditches from either side; that if
possible, by driving the enemies from the firm and open champain, he
might force them into the fens. They, on the other hand, not enduring
this, as soon as their leaders allowed them the word of command, issued
out furiously in large bodies; when not only the men at work were
dispersed, but most part of those who stood in arms to protect the work
fled in disorder. Upon this, Sylla leaped from his horse, and snatching
hold of an ensign, rushed through the midst of the rout upon the enemy,
crying out aloud, "To me, O Romans, it will be glorious to fall here.
As for you, when they ask you where you betrayed your general, remember
and say, at Orchomenus." His men rallying again at these words, and two
cohorts coming to his succor from the right wing, he led them to the
charge and turned the day. Then retiring some short distance and
refreshing his men, he proceeded again with his works to block up the
enemy's camp. They again sallied out in better order than before. Here
Diogenes, step-son to Archelaus, fighting on the right wing with much
gallantry, made an honorable end. And the archers, being hard pressed
by the Romans, and wanting space for a retreat, took their arrows by
handfuls, and striking with these as with swords, beat them back. In
the end, however, they were all driven into the entrenchment and had a
sorrowful night of it with their slain and wounded. The next day again,
Sylla, leading forth his men up to their quarters, went on finishing
the lines of entrenchment, and when they issued out again with larger
numbers to give him battle, fell on them and put them to the rout, and
in the consternation ensuing, none daring to abide, he took the camp by
storm. The marshes were filled with blood, and the lake with dead
bodies, insomuch that to this day many bows, helmets, fragments of
iron, breastplates, and swords of barbarian make, continue to be found
buried deep in mud, two hundred years after the fight. Thus much of the
actions of Chaeronea and Orchomenus.
At Rome, Cinna and Carbo were now using injustice and violence towards
persons of the greatest eminence, and many of them to avoid this
tyranny repaired, as to a safe harbor, to Sylla's camp, where, in a
short space, he had about him the aspect of a senate. Metella,
likewise, having with difficulty conveyed herself and children away by
stealth, brought him word that his houses, both in town and country,
had been burnt by his enemies, and entreated his help at home. Whilst
he was in doubt what to do, being impatient to hear of his country
being thus outraged, and yet not knowing how to leave so great a work
as the Mithridatic war unfinished, there comes to him Archelaus, a
merchant of Delos, with hopes of an accommodation, and private
instructions from Archelaus, the king's general. Sylla liked the
business so well as to desire a speedy conference with Archelaus in
person, and a meeting took place on the sea-coast near Delium, where
the temple of Apollo stands. When Archelaus opened the conversation,
and began to urge Sylla to abandon his pretensions to Asia and Pontus,
and to set sail for the war in Rome, receiving money and shipping, and
such forces as he should think fitting from the king, Sylla,
interposing, bade Archelaus take no further care for Mithridates, but
assume the crown to himself, and become a confederate of Rome,
delivering up the navy. Archelaus professing his abhorrence of such
treason, Sylla proceeded: "So you, Archelaus, a Cappadocian, and slave,
or if it so please you, friend, to a barbarian king, would not, upon
such vast considerations, be guilty of what is dishonorable, and yet
dare to talk to me, Roman general and Sylla, of treason? as if you were
not the selfsame Archelaus who ran away at Chaeronea, with few
remaining out of one hundred and twenty thousand men; who lay for two
days in the fens of Orchomenus, and left Boeotia impassable for heaps
of dead carcasses." Archelaus, changing his tone at this, humbly
besought him to lay aside the thoughts of war, and make peace with
Mithridates. Sylla consenting to this request, articles of agreement
were concluded on. That Mithridates should quit Asia and Paphlagonia,
restore Bithynia to Nicomedes, Cappadocia to Ariobarzanes, and pay the
Romans two thousand talents, and give him seventy ships of war with all
their furniture. On the other hand, that Sylla should confirm to him
his other dominions, and declare him a Roman confederate. On these
terms he proceeded by the way of Thessaly and Macedon towards the
Hellespont, having Archelaus with him, and treating him with great
attention. For Archelaus being taken dangerously ill at Larissa, he
stopped the march of the army, and took care of him, as if he had been
one of his own captains, or his colleague in command. This gave
suspicion of foul play in the battle of Chaeronea; as it was also
observed that Sylla had released all the friends of Mithridates taken
prisoners in war, except only Aristion the tyrant, who was at enmity
with Archelaus, and was put to death by poison; and, above all, ten
thousand acres of land in Euboea had been given to the Cappadocian, and
he had received from Sylla the style of friend and ally of the Romans.
On all which points Sylla defends himself in his Memoirs.
The ambassadors of Mithridates arriving and declaring that they
accepted of the conditions, only Paphlagonia they could not part with;
and as for the ships, professing not to know of any such capitulation,
Sylla in a rage exclaimed, "What say you? Does Mithridates then
withhold Paphlagonia? and as to the ships, deny that article? I thought
to have seen him prostrate at my feet to thank me for leaving him so
much as that right hand of his, which has cut off so many Romans. He
will shortly, at my coming over into Asia, speak another language; in
the mean time, let him at his ease in Pergamus sit managing a war which
he never saw." The ambassadors in terror stood silent by, but Archelaus
endeavored with humble supplications to assuage his wrath, laying hold
on his right hand and weeping. In conclusion he obtained permission to
go himself in person to Mithridates; for that he would either mediate a
peace to the satisfaction of Sylla, or if not, slay himself. Sylla
having thus dispatched him away, made an inroad into Maedica, and after
wide depopulations returned back again into Macedon, where he received
Archelaus about Philippi, bringing word that all was well, and that
Mithridates earnestly requested an interview. The chief cause of this
meeting was Fimbria; for he having assassinated Flaccus, the consul of
the contrary faction, and worsted the Mithridatic commanders, was
advancing against Mithridates himself, who, fearing this, chose rather
to seek the friendship of Sylla.
And so met at Dardanus in the Troad, on one side Mithridates, attended
with two hundred ships, and land forces consisting of twenty thousand
men at arms, six thousand horse, and a large train of scythed chariots;
on the other, Sylla with only four cohorts, and two hundred horse. As
Mithridates drew near and put out his hand, Sylla demanded whether he
was willing or no to end the war on the terms Archelaus had agreed to,
but seeing the king made no answer, "How is this?" he continued, "ought
not the petitioner to speak first, and the conqueror to listen in
silence?" And when Mithridates, entering upon his plea, began to shift
off the war, partly on the gods, and partly to blame the Romans
themselves, he took him up, saying that he had heard, indeed, long
since from others, and now he knew it himself for truth, that
Mithridates was a powerful speaker, who in defense of the most foul and
unjust proceedings, had not wanted for specious presences. Then
charging him with and inveighing bitterly against the outrages he had
committed, he asked again whether he was willing or no to ratify the
treaty of Archelaus? Mithridates answering in the affirmative, Sylla
came forward, embraced and kissed him. Not long after he introduced
Ariobarzanes and Nicomedes, the two kings, and made them friends
Mithridates, when he had handed over to Sylla seventy ships and five
hundred archers, set sail for Pontus.
Sylla, perceiving the soldiers to be dissatisfied with the peace, (as
it seemed indeed a monstrous thing that they should see the king who
was then bitterest enemy, and who had caused one hundred and fifty
thousand Romans to be massacred in one day in Asia, now sailing off
with the riches and spoils of Asia, which he had pillaged, and put
under contribution for the space of four years,) in his defense to them
alleged, that he could not have made head against Fimbria and
Mithridates, had they both withstood him in conjunction. Thence he set
out and went in search of Fimbria, who lay with the army about
Thyatira, and pitching his camp not far off, proceeded to fortify it
with a trench. The soldiers of Fimbria came out in their single coats,
and, saluting his men, lent ready assistance to the work; which change
Fimbria beholding, and apprehending Sylla as irreconcilable, laid
violent hands on himself in the camp.
Sylla imposed on Asia in general a tax of twenty thousand talents, and
despoiled individually each family by the licentious behavior and long
residence of the soldiery in private quarters. For he ordained that
every host should allow his guest four tetradrachms each day, and
moreover entertain him, and as many friends as he should invite, with a
supper; that a centurion should receive fifty drachmas a day, together
with one suit of clothes to wear within doors, and another when he went
abroad.
Having set out from Ephesus with the whole navy, he came the third day
to anchor in the Piraeus. Here he was initiated in the mysteries, and
seized for his use the library of Apellicon the Teian, in which were
most of the works of Theophrastus and Aristotle, then not in general
circulation. When the whole was afterwards conveyed to Rome, there, it
is said, the greater part of the collection passed through the hands of
Tyrannion the grammarian, and that Andronicus the Rhodian, having
through his means the command of numerous copies, made the treatises
public, and drew up the catalogues that are now current. The elder
Peripatetics appear themselves, indeed, to have been accomplished and
learned men, but of the writings of Aristotle and Theophrastus they had
no large or exact knowledge, because Theophrastus bequeathing his books
to the heir of Neleus of Scepsis, they came into careless and
illiterate hands.
During Sylla's stay about Athens, his feet were attacked by a heavy
benumbing pain, which Strabo calls the first inarticulate sounds of the
gout. Taking, therefore, a voyage to Aedepsus, he made use of the hot
waters there, allowing himself at the same time to forget all
anxieties, and passing away his time with actors. As he was walking
along the sea-shore, certain fishermen brought him some magnificent
fish. Being much delighted with the gift, and understanding, on
inquiry, that they were men of Halaeae, "What," said he, "are there any
men of Halaeae surviving?" For after his victory at Orchomenus, in the
heat of a pursuit, he had destroyed three cities of Boeotia, Anthedon,
Larymna, and Halaeae. The men not knowing what to say for fear, Sylla
with a smile bade them cheer up and return in peace, as they had
brought with them no insignificant intercessors. The Halaeans say that
this first gave them courage to reunite and return to their city.
Sylla, having marched through Thessaly and Macedon to the sea-coast,
prepared, with twelve hundred vessels, to cross over from Dyrrhachium
to Brundisium. Not far from hence is Apollonia, and near it the
Nymphaeum, a spot of ground where, from among green trees and meadows,
there are found at various points springs of fire continually streaming
out. Here, they say, a satyr, such as statuaries and painters
represent, was caught asleep, and brought before Sylla, where he was
asked by several interpreters who he was, and, after much trouble, at
last uttered nothing intelligible, but a harsh noise, something between
the neighing of a horse and crying of a goat. Sylla, in dismay, and
deprecating such an omen, bade it be removed.
At the point of transportation, Sylla being in alarm, lest at their
first setting foot upon Italy, the soldiers should disband and disperse
one by one among the cities, they of their own accord first took an
oath to stand firm by him, and not of their good-will to injure Italy;
then seeing him in distress for money, they made, so to say, a freewill
offering, and contributed each man according to his ability. However
Sylla would not accept of their offering, but praising their good-will,
and arousing up their courage, put over (as he himself writes) against
fifteen hostile generals in command of four hundred and fifty cohorts;
but not without the most unmistakable divine intimations of his
approaching happy successes. For when he was sacrificing at his first
landing near Tarentum, the victim's liver showed the figure of a crown
of laurel with two fillets hanging from it. And a little while before
his arrival in Campania, near the mountain Hephaeus, two stately goats
were seen in the daytime, fighting together, and performing all the
motions of men in battle. It proved to be an apparition, and rising up
gradually from the ground, dispersed in the air, like fancied
representations in the clouds, and so vanished out of sight. Not long
after, in the selfsame place, when Marius the younger, and Norbanus the
consul, attacked him with two great armies, without prescribing the
order of battle, or arranging his men according to their divisions, by
the sway only of one common alacrity and transport of courage, he
overthrew the enemy, and shut up Norbanus into the city of Capua, with
the loss of seven thousand of his men. And this was the reason, he
says, that the soldiers did not leave him and disperse into the
different towns, but held fast to him, and despised the enemy, though
infinitely more in number.
At Silvium, (as he himself relates it,) there met him a servant of
Pontius, in a state of divine possession, saying that he brought him
the power of the sword and victory from Bellona, the goddess of war,
and if he did not make haste, that the capitol would be burnt, which
fell out on the same day the man foretold it, namely, on the sixth day
of the month Quintilis, which we now call July.
At Fidentia, also, Marcus Lucullus, one of Sylla's commanders, reposed
such confidence in the forwardness of the soldiers, as to dare to face
fifty cohorts of the enemy, with only sixteen of his own; but because
many of them were unarmed, delayed the onset. As he stood thus waiting,
and considering with himself, a gentle gale of wind, bearing along with
it from the neighboring meadows a quantity of flowers, scattered them
down upon the army, on whose shields and helmets they settled, and
arranged themselves spontaneously, so as to give the soldiers, in the
eyes of the enemy, the appearance of being crowned with chaplets. Upon
this, being yet further animated, they joined battle, and victoriously
slaying eight thousand men, took the camp. This Lucullus was brother to
that Lucullus who in after-times conquered Mithridates and Tigranes.
Sylla, seeing himself still surrounded by so many armies, and such
mighty hostile powers, had recourse to art, inviting Scipio, the other
consul, to a treaty of peace. The motion was willingly embraced, and
several meetings and consultations ensued, in all which Sylla, still
interposing matter of delay and new pretences, in the meanwhile
debauched Scipio's men by means of his own, who were as well practiced
as the general himself, in all the artifices of inveigling. For
entering into the enemy's quarters and joining in conversation, they
gained some by present money, some by promises, others by fair words
and persuasions; so that in the end, when Sylla with twenty cohorts
drew near, on his men saluting Scipio's soldiers, they returned the
greeting and came over, leaving Scipio behind them in his tent, where
he was found all alone and dismissed. And having used his twenty
cohorts as decoys to ensnare the forty of the enemy, he led them all
back into the camp. On this occasion, Carbo was heard to say, that he
had both a fox and a lion in the breast of Sylla to deal with, and was
most troubled with the fox.
Some time after, at Signia, Marius the younger, with eighty-five
cohorts, offered battle to Sylla, who was extremely desirous to have it
decided on that very day; for the night before he had seen a vision in
his sleep, of Marius the elder, who had been some time dead, advising
his son to beware of the following day, as of fatal consequence to him.
For this reason, Sylla, longing to come to a battle, sent off for
Dolabella, who lay encamped at some distance. But because the enemy had
beset and blocked up the passes, his soldiers got tired with
skirmishing and marching at once. To these difficulties was added,
moreover, tempestuous rainy weather, which distressed them most of all.
The principal officers therefore came to Sylla, and besought him to
defer the battle that day, showing him how the soldiers lay stretched
on the ground, where they had thrown themselves down in their
weariness, resting their heads upon their shields to gain some repose.
When, with much reluctance, he had yielded, and given order for
pitching the camp, they had no sooner begun to cast up the rampart and
draw the ditch, but Marius came riding up furiously at the head of his
troops, in hopes to scatter them in that disorder and confusion. Here
the gods fulfilled Sylla's dream. For the soldiers, stirred up with
anger, left off their work, and sticking their javelins into the bank,
with drawn swords and a courageous shout, came to blows with the enemy,
who made but small resistance, and lost great numbers in the flight.
Marius fled to Praeneste, but finding the gates shut, tied himself
round by a rope that was thrown down to him, and was taken up on the
walls. Some there are (as Fenestella for one) who affirm that Marius
knew nothing of the fight, but, overwatched and spent with hard duty,
had reposed himself, when the signal was given, beneath some shade, and
was hardly to be awakened at the flight of his men. Sylla, according to
his own account, lost only twenty-three men in this fight, having
killed of the enemy twenty thousand, and taken alive eight thousand.
The like success attended his lieutenants, Pompey, Crassus, Metellus,
Servilius, who with little or no loss cut off vast numbers of the
enemy, insomuch that Carbo, the prime supporter of the cause, fled by
night from his charge of the army, and sailed over into Libya.
In the last struggle, however, the Samnite Telesinus, like some
champion, whose lot it is to enter last of all into the lists and take
up the wearied conqueror, came nigh to have foiled and overthrown Sylla
before the gates of Rome. For Telesinus with his second, Lamponius the
Lucanian, having collected a large force, had been hastening towards
Praeneste, to relieve Marius from the siege; but perceiving Sylla ahead
of him, and Pompey behind, both hurrying up against him, straightened
thus before and behind, as a valiant and experienced soldier, he arose
by night, and marching directly with his whole army, was within a
little of making his way unexpectedly into Rome itself. He lay that
night before the city, at ten furlongs distance from the Colline gate,
elated and full of hope, at having thus out-generalled so many eminent
commanders. At break of day, being charged by the noble youth of the
city, among many others he overthrew Appius Claudius, renowned for high
birth and character. The city, as is easy to imagine, was all in an
uproar, the women shrieking and running about, as if it had already
been entered forcibly by assault, till at last Balbus, sent forward by
Sylla, was seen riding up with seven hundred horse at full speed.
Halting only long enough to wipe the sweat from the horses, and then
hastily bridling again, he at once attacked the enemy. Presently Sylla
himself appeared, and commanding those who were foremost to take
immediate refreshment, proceeded to form in order for battle. Dolabella
and Torquatus were extremely earnest with him to desist awhile, and not
with spent forces to hazard the last hope, having before them in the
field, not Carbo or Marius, but two warlike nations bearing immortal
hatred to Rome, the Samnites and Lucanians, to grapple with. But he put
them by, and commanded the trumpets to sound a charge, when it was now
about four o'clock in the afternoon. In the conflict which followed, as
sharp a one as ever was, the right wing where Crassus was posted had
clearly the advantage; the left suffered and was in distress, when
Sylla came to its succor, mounted on a white courser, full of mettle
and exceedingly swift, which two of the enemy knowing him by, had their
lances ready to throw at him; he himself observed nothing, but his
attendant behind him giving the horse a touch, he was, unknown to
himself, just so far carried forward, that the points, falling beside
the horse's tail, stuck in the ground. There is a story that he had a
small golden image of Apollo from Delphi, which he was always wont in
battle to carry about him in his bosom, and that he then kissed it with
these words, "O Apollo Pythius, who in so many battles hast raised to
honor and greatness the Fortunate Cornelius Sylla, wilt thou now cast
him down, bringing him before the gate of his country, to perish
shamefully with his fellow-citizens?" Thus, they say, addressing
himself to the god, he entreated some of his men, threatened some, and
seized others with his hand, till at length the left wing being wholly
shattered, he was forced, in the general rout, to betake himself to the
camp, having lost many of his friends and acquaintance. Many, likewise,
of the city spectators who had come out, were killed or trodden
underfoot. So that it was generally believed in the city that all was
lost, and the siege of Praeneste was all but raised; many fugitives
from the battle making their way thither, and urging Lucretius Ofella,
who was appointed to keep on the siege, to rise in all haste, for that
Sylla had perished, and Rome fallen into the hands of the enemy.
About midnight there came into Sylla's camp messengers from Crassus, to
fetch provision for him and his soldiers; for having vanquished the
enemy, they had pursued him to the walls of Antemna, and had sat down
there. Sylla, hearing this, and that most of the enemy were destroyed,
came to Antemna by break of day, where three thousand of the besieged
having sent forth a herald, he promised to receive them to mercy, on
condition they did the enemy some mischief in their coming over.
Trusting to his word, they fell foul on the rest of their companions,
and made a great slaughter one of another. Nevertheless, Sylla gathered
together in the circus, as well these as other survivors of the party,
to the number of six thousand, and just as he commenced speaking to the
senate, in the temple of Bellona, proceeded to cut them down, by men
appointed for that service. The cry of so vast a multitude put to the
sword, in so narrow a space, was naturally heard some distance, and
startled the senators. He, however, continuing his speech with a calm
and unconcerned countenance, bade them listen to what he had to say,
and not busy themselves with what was doing out of doors; he had given
directions for the chastisement of some offenders. This gave the most
stupid of the Romans to understand, that they had merely exchanged, not
escaped, tyranny. And Marius, being of a naturally harsh temper, had
not altered, but merely continued what he had been, in authority;
whereas Sylla, using his fortune moderately and unambitiously at first,
and giving good hopes of a true patriot, firm to the interests both of
the nobility and commonalty, being, moreover, of a gay and cheerful
temper from his youth, and so easily moved to pity as to shed tears
readily, has, perhaps deservedly, cast a blemish upon offices of great
authority, as if they deranged men's former habits and character, and
gave rise to violence, pride, and inhumanity. Whether this be a real
change and revolution in the mind, caused by fortune, or rather a
lurking viciousness of nature, discovering itself in authority, it were
matter of another sort of disquisition to decide.
Sylla being thus wholly bent upon slaughter, and filling the city with
executions without number or limit, many wholly uninterested persons
falling a sacrifice to private enmity, through his permission and
indulgence to his friends, Caius Metellus, one of the younger men, made
bold in the senate to ask him what end there was of these evils, and at
what point he might be expected to stop? "We do not ask you," said he,
"to pardon any whom you have resolved to destroy, but to free from
doubt those whom you are pleased to save." Sylla answering, that he
knew not as yet whom to spare. "Why then," said he, "tell us whom you
will punish." This Sylla said he would do. These last words, some
authors say, were spoken not by Metellus, but by Afidius, one of
Sylla's fawning companions. Immediately upon this, without
communicating with any of the magistrates, Sylla proscribed eighty
persons, and notwithstanding the general indignation, after one day's
respite, he posted two hundred and twenty more, and on the third again,
as many. In an address to the people on this occasion, he told them he
had put up as many names as he could think of; those which had escaped
his memory, he would publish at a future time. He issued an edict
likewise, making death the punishment of humanity, proscribing any who
should dare to receive and cherish a proscribed person, without
exception to brother, son, or parents. And to him who should slay any
one proscribed person, he ordained two talents reward, even were it a
slave who had killed his master, or a son his father. And what was
thought most unjust of all, he caused the attainder to pass upon their
sons, and son's sons, and made open sale of all their property. Nor did
the proscription prevail only at Rome, but throughout all the cities of
Italy the effusion of blood was such, that neither sanctuary of the
gods, nor hearth of hospitality, nor ancestral home escaped. Men were
butchered in the embraces of their wives, children in the arms of their
mothers. Those who perished through public animosity, or private
enmity, were nothing in comparison of the numbers of those who suffered
for their riches. Even the murderers began to say, that "his fine house
killed this man, a garden that, a third, his hot baths." Quintus
Aurelius, a quiet, peaceable man, and one who thought all his part in
the common calamity consisted in condoling with the misfortunes of
others, coming into the forum to read the list, and finding himself
among the proscribed, cried out, "Woe is me, my Alban farm has informed
against me." He had not gone far, before he was dispatched by a
ruffian, sent on that errand.
In the meantime, Marius, on the point of being taken, killed himself;
and Sylla, coming to Praeneste, at first proceeded judicially against
each particular person, till at last, finding it a work of too much
time, he cooped them up together in one place, to the number of twelve
thousand men, and gave order for the execution of them all, his own
host alone excepted. But he, brave man, telling him he could not accept
the obligation of life from the hands of one who had been the ruin of
his country, went in among the rest, and submitted willingly to the
stroke. What Lucius Catilina did was thought to exceed all other acts.
For having, before matters came to an issue, made away with his
brother, he besought Sylla to place him in the list of proscription, as
though he had been alive, which was done; and Catiline, to return the
kind office, assassinated a certain Marcus Marius, one of the adverse
party, and brought the head to Sylla, as he was sitting in the forum,
and then going to the holy water of Apollo, which was nigh, washed his
hands.
There were other things, besides this bloodshed, which gave offense.
For Sylla had declared himself dictator, an office which had then been
laid aside for the space of one hundred and twenty years. There was,
likewise, an act of grace passed on his behalf, granting indemnity for
what was passed, and for the future entrusting him with the power of
life and death, confiscation, division of lands, erecting and
demolishing of cities, taking away of kingdoms, and bestowing them at
pleasure. He conducted the sale of confiscated property after such an
arbitrary, imperious way, from the tribunal, that his gifts excited
greater odium even than his usurpations; women, mimes, and musicians,
and the lowest of the freed slaves had presents made them of the
territories of nations, and the revenues of cities; and women of rank
were married against their will to some of them. Wishing to insure the
fidelity of Pompey the Great, by a nearer tie of blood, he bade him
divorce his present wife, and forcing Aemilia, the daughter of Scaurus
and Metella, his own wife, to leave her husband, Manius Glabrio, he
bestowed her, though then with child, on Pompey, and she died in
childbirth at his house.
When Lucretius Ofella, the same who reduced Marius by siege, offered
himself for the consulship, he first forbade him; then, seeing he could
not restrain him, on his coming down into the forum with a numerous
train of followers, he sent one of the centurions who were immediately
about him, and slew him, himself sitting on the tribunal in the temple
of Castor, and beholding the murder from above. The citizens
apprehending the centurion, and dragging him to the tribunal, he bade
them cease their clamoring and let the centurion go, for he had
commanded it.
His triumph was, in itself, exceedingly splendid, and distinguished by
the rarity and magnificence of the royal spoils; but its yet greatest
glory was the noble spectacle of the exiles. For in the rear followed
the most eminent and most potent of the citizens, crowned with
garlands, and calling Sylla savior and father, by whose means they were
restored to their own country, and again enjoyed their wives and
children. When the solemnity was over, and the time come to render an
account of his actions, addressing the public assembly, he was as
profuse in enumerating the lucky chances of war, as any of his own
military merits. And, finally, from this felicity, he requested to
receive the surname of Felix. In writing and transacting business with
the Greeks, he styled himself Epaphroditus, and on his trophies which
are still extant with us, the name is given Lucius Cornelius Sylla
Epaphroditus. Moreover, when his wife had brought him forth twins, he
named the male Faustus, and the female Fausta, the Roman words for what
is auspicious and of happy omen. The confidence which he reposed in his
good genius, rather than in any abilities of his own, emboldened him,
though deeply involved in bloodshed, and though he had been the author
of such great changes and revolutions of State, to lay down his
authority, and place the right of consular elections once more in the
hands of the people. And when they were held, he not only declined to
seek that office, but in the forum exposed his person publicly to the
people, walking up and down as a private man. And contrary to his will,
certain bold man and his enemy, Marcus Lepidus, was expected to become
consul, not so much by his own interest, as by the power and
solicitation of Pompey, whom the people were willing to oblige. When
the business was over, seeing Pompey going home overjoyed with the
success, he called him to him and said, "What a politic act, young man,
to pass by Catulus, the best of men, and choose Lepidus, the worst! It
will be well for you to be vigilant, now that you have strengthened
your opponent against yourself." Sylla spoke this, it may seem, by a
prophetic instinct, for, not long after, Lepidus grew insolent, and
broke into open hostility to Pompey and his friends.
Sylla, consecrating the tenth of his whole substance to Hercules,
entertained the people with sumptuous feastings. The provision was so
much above what was necessary, that they were forced daily to throw
great quantities of meat into the river, and they drank wine forty
years old and upwards. In the midst of the banqueting, which lasted
many days, Metella died of disease. And because that the priest forbade
him to visit the sick, or suffer his house to be polluted with
mourning, he drew up an act of divorce, and caused her to be removed
into another house whilst alive. Thus far, out of religious
apprehension, he observed the strict rule to the very letter, but in
the funeral expenses he transgressed the law he himself had made,
limiting the amount, and spared no cost. He transgressed, likewise, his
own sumptuary laws respecting expenditure in banquets, thinking to
allay his grief by luxurious drinking parties and revelings with common
buffoons.
Some few months after, at a show of gladiators, when men and women sat
promiscuously in the theater, no distinct places being as yet
appointed, there sat down by Sylla a beautiful woman of high birth, by
name Valeria, daughter of Messala, and sister to Hortensius the orator.
Now it happened that she had been lately divorced from her husband.
Passing along behind Sylla, she leaned on him with her hand, and
plucking a bit of wool from his garment, so proceeded to her seat. And
on Sylla looking up and wondering what it meant, "What harm, mighty
Sir," said she, "if I also was desirous to partake a little in your
felicity?" It appeared at once that Sylla was not displeased, but even
tickled in his fancy, for he sent out to inquire her name, her birth,
and past life. From this time there passed between them many side
glances, each continually turning round to look at the other, and
frequently interchanging smiles. In the end, overtures were made, and a
marriage concluded on. All which was innocent, perhaps, on the lady's
side, but, though she had been never so modest and virtuous, it was
scarcely a temperate and worthy occasion of marriage on the part of
Sylla, to take fire, as a boy might, at a face and a bold look,
incentives not seldom to the most disorderly and shameless passions.
Notwithstanding this marriage, he kept company with actresses,
musicians, and dancers, drinking with them on couches night and day.
His chief favorites were Roscius the comedian, Sorex the arch mime, and
Metrobius the player, for whom, though past his prime, he still
professed a passionate fondness. By these courses he encouraged a
disease which had begun from some unimportant cause; and for a long
time he failed to observe that his bowels were ulcerated, till at
length the corrupted flesh broke out into lice. Many, were employed day
and night in destroying them, but the work so multiplied under their
hands, that not only his clothes, baths, basins, but his very meat was
polluted with that flux and contagion, they came swarming out in such
numbers. He went frequently by day into the bath to scour and cleanse
his body, but all in vain; the evil generated too rapidly and too
abundantly for any ablutions to overcome it. There died of this
disease, amongst those of the most ancient times, Acastus, the son of
Pelias; of later date, Alcman the poet, Pherecydes the theologian,
Callisthenes the Olynthian, in the time of his imprisonment, as also
Mucius the lawyer; and if we may mention ignoble, but notorious names,
Eunus the fugitive, who stirred up the slaves of Sicily to rebel
against their masters, after he was brought captive to Rome, died of
this creeping sickness.
Sylla not only foresaw his end, but may be also said to have written of
it. For in the two and twentieth book of his Memoirs, which he finished
two days before his death, he writes that the Chaldeans foretold him,
that after he had led a life of honor, he should conclude it in
fullness of prosperity. He declares, moreover, that in vision he had
seen his son, who had died not long before Metella, stand by in
mourning attire, and beseech his father to cast off further care, and
come along with him to his mother Metella, there to live at ease and
quietness with her. However, he could not refrain from intermeddling in
public affairs. For, ten days before his decease, he composed the
differences of the people of Dicaearchia, and prescribed laws for their
better government. And the very day before his end, it being told him
that the magistrate Granius deferred the payment of a public debt, in
expectation of his death, he sent for him to his house, and placing his
attendants about him, caused him to be strangled; but through the
straining of his voice and body, the imposthume breaking, he lost a
great quantity of blood. Upon this, his strength failing him, after
spending a troublesome night, he died, leaving behind him two young
children by Metella. Valeria was afterwards delivered of a daughter,
named Posthuma; for so the Romans call those who are born after the
father's death.
Many ran tumultuously together, and joined with Lepidus, to deprive the
corpse of the accustomed solemnities; but Pompey, though offended at
Sylla, (for he alone of all his friends, was not mentioned in his
will,) having kept off some by his interest and entreaty, others by
menaces, conveyed the body to Rome, and gave it a secure and honorable
burial. It is said that the Roman ladies contributed such vast heaps of
spices, that besides what was carried on two hundred and ten litters,
there was sufficient to form a large figure of Sylla himself, and
another, representing a lictor, out of the costly frankincense and
cinnamon. The day being cloudy in the morning, they deferred carrying
forth the corpse till about three in the afternoon, expecting it would
rain. But a strong wind blowing full upon the funeral pile, and setting
it all in a bright flame, the body was consumed so exactly in good
time, that the pyre had begun to smolder, and the fire was upon the
point of expiring, when a violent rain came down, which continued till
night. So that his good fortune was firm even to the last, and did as
it were officiate at his funeral. His monument stands in the Campus
Martius, with an epitaph of his own writing; the substance of it being,
that he had not been outdone by any of his friends in doing good turns,
nor by any of his foes in doing bad.
COMPARISON OF LYSANDER WITH SYLLA
Having completed this Life also, come we now to the comparison. That
which was common to them both, was that they were founders of their own
greatness, with this difference, that Lysander had the consent of his
fellow-citizens, in times of sober judgment, for the honors he
received; nor did he force anything from them against their good-will,
nor hold any power contrary to the laws.
In civil strife e'en villains rise to fame.
And so then at Rome, when the people were distempered, and the
government out of order, one or other was still raised to despotic
power; no wonder, then, if Sylla reigned, when the Glauciae and
Saturnini drove out the Metelli, when sons of consuls were slain in the
assemblies, when silver and gold purchased men and arms, and fire and
sword enacted new laws, and put down lawful opposition. Nor do I blame
anyone, in such circumstances, for working himself into supreme power,
only I would not have it thought a sign of great goodness, to be head
of a State so wretchedly discomposed. Lysander, being employed in the
greatest commands and affairs of State, by a sober and well-governed
city, may be said to have had repute as the best and most virtuous man,
in the best and most virtuous commonwealth. And thus, often returning
the government into the hands of the citizens, he received it again as
often, the superiority of his merit still awarding him the first place.
Sylla, on the other hand, when he had once made himself general of an
army, kept his command for ten years together, creating himself
sometimes consul, sometimes proconsul, and sometimes dictator, but
always remaining a tyrant.
It is true Lysander, as was said, designed to introduce a new form of
government; by milder methods, however, and more agreeably to law than
Sylla, not by force of arms, but persuasion, nor by subverting the
whole State at once, but simply by amending the succession of the
kings; in a way, moreover, which seemed the naturally just one, that
the most deserving should rule, especially in a city which itself
exercised command in Greece, upon account of virtue, not nobility. For
as the hunter considers the whelp itself, not the bitch, and the
horse-dealer the foal, not the mare, (for what if the foal should prove
a mule?) so likewise were that politician extremely out, who, in the
choice of a chief magistrate, should inquire, not what the man is, but
how descended. The very Spartans themselves have deposed several of
their kings for want of kingly virtues, as degenerated and good for
nothing. As a vicious nature, though of an ancient stock, is
dishonorable, it must be virtue itself, and not birth, that makes
virtue honorable. Furthermore, the one committed his acts of injustice
for the sake of his friends; the other extended his to his friends
themselves. It is confessed on all hands, that Lysander offended most
commonly for the sake of his companions, committing several slaughters
to uphold their power and dominion; but as for Sylla, he, out of envy,
reduced Pompey's command by land, and Dolabella's by sea, although he
himself had given them those places; and ordered Lucretius Ofella, who
sued for the consulship as the reward of many great services, to be
slain before his eyes, exciting horror and alarm in the minds of all
men, by his cruelty to his dearest friends.
As regards the pursuit of riches and pleasures, we yet further discover
in one a princely, in the other a tyrannical disposition. Lysander did
nothing that was intemperate or licentious, in that full command of
means and opportunity, but kept clear, as much as ever man did, of that
trite saying,
Lions at home, but foxes out of doors;
and ever maintained a sober, truly Spartan, and well disciplined course
of conduct. Whereas Sylla could never moderate his unruly affections,
either by poverty when young, or by years when grown old, but would be
still prescribing laws to the citizens concerning chastity and
sobriety, himself living all that time, as Sallust affirms, in lewdness
and adultery. By these ways he so impoverished and drained the city of
her treasures, as to be forced to sell privileges and immunities to
allied and friendly cities for money, although he daily gave up the
wealthiest and greatest families to public sale and confiscation. There
was no end of his favors vainly spent and thrown away on flatterers;
for what hope could there be, or what likelihood of forethought or
economy, in his more private moments over wine, when, in the open face
of the people, upon the auction of a large estate, which he would have
passed over to one of his friends at a small price, because another bid
higher, and the officer announced the advance, he broke out into a
passion, saying, "What a strange and unjust thing is this, O citizens,
that I cannot dispose of my own booty as I please!" But Lysander, on
the contrary, with the rest of the spoil, sent home for public use even
the presents which were made him. Nor do I commend him for it, for he
perhaps, by excessive liberality, did Sparta more harm, than ever the
other did Rome by rapine; I only use it as an argument of his
indifference to riches. They exercised a strange influence on their
respective cities. Sylla, a profuse debauchee, endeavored to restore
sober living amongst the citizens; Lysander, temperate himself, filled
Sparta with the luxury he disregarded. So that both were blameworthy,
the one for raising himself above his own laws, the other for causing
his fellow citizens to fall beneath his own example. He taught Sparta
to want the very things which he himself had learned to do without. And
thus much of their civil administration.
As for feats of arms, wise conduct in war, innumerable victories,
perilous adventures, Sylla was beyond compare. Lysander, indeed, came
off twice victorious in two battles by sea; I shall add to that the
siege of Athens, a work of greater fame, than difficulty. What occurred
in Boeotia, and at Haliartus, was the result, perhaps, of ill fortune;
yet it certainly looks like ill counsel, not to wait for the king's
forces, which had all but arrived from Plataea, but out of ambition and
eagerness to fight, to approach the walls at disadvantage, and so to be
cut off by a sally of inconsiderable men. He received his death-wound,
not as Cleombrotus at Leuctra, resisting manfully the assault of an
enemy in the field; not as Cyrus or Epaminondas, sustaining the
declining battle, or making sure the victory; all these died the death
of kings and generals; but he, as it had been some common skirmisher or
scout, cast away his life ingloriously, giving testimony to the wisdom
of the ancient Spartan maxim, to avoid attacks on walled cities, in
which the stoutest warrior may chance to fall by the hand, not only of
a man utterly his inferior, but by that of a boy or woman, as Achilles,
they say, was slain by Paris in the gates. As for Sylla, it were hard
to reckon up how many set battles he won, or how many thousands he
slew; he took Rome itself twice, as also the Athenian Piraeus, not by
famine, as Lysander did, but by a series of great battles, driving
Archelaus into the sea. And what is most important, there was a vast
difference between the commanders they had to deal with. For I look
upon it as an easy task, or rather sport, to beat Antiochus,
Alcibiades's pilot, or to circumvent Philocles, the Athenian demagogue,
Sharp only at the inglorious point of tongue,
whom Mithridates would have scorned to compare with his groom, or
Marius with his lictor. But of the potentates, consuls, commanders, and
demagogues, to pass by all the rest who opposed themselves to Sylla,
who amongst the Romans so formidable as Marius? what king more powerful
than Mithridates? who of the Italians more warlike than Lamponius and
Telesinus? yet of these, one he drove into banishment, one he quelled,
and the others he slew.
And what is more important, in my judgment, than anything yet adduced,
is that Lysander had the assistance of the State in all his
achievements; whereas Sylla, besides that he was a banished person, and
overpowered by a faction, at a time when his wife was driven from home,
his houses demolished, and adherents slain, himself then in Boeotia,
stood embattled against countless numbers of the public enemy, and
endangering himself for the sake of his country, raised a trophy of
victory; and not even when Mithridates came with proposals of alliance
and aid against his enemies, would he show any sort of compliance, or
even clemency; did not so much as address him, or vouchsafe him his
hand, until he had it from the king's own mouth, that he was willing to
quit Asia, surrender the navy, and restore Bithynia and Cappadocia to
the two kings. Than which action, Sylla never performed a braver, or
with a nobler spirit, when, preferring the public good to the private,
and like good hounds, where he had once fixed, never letting go his
hold, till the enemy yielded, then, and not until then, he set himself
to revenge his own private quarrels. We may perhaps let ourselves be
influenced, moreover, in our comparison of their characters, by
considering their treatment of Athens. Sylla, when he had made himself
master of the city, which then upheld the dominion and power of
Mithridates in opposition to him, restored her to liberty and the free
exercise of her own laws; Lysander, on the contrary, when she had
fallen from a vast height of dignity and rule, showed her no
compassion, but abolishing her democratic government, imposed on her
the most cruel and lawless tyrants. We are now qualified to consider,
whether we should go far from the truth or no, in pronouncing that
Sylla performed the more glorious deeds, but Lysander committed the
fewer faults, as, likewise, by giving to one the preeminence for
moderation and self-control, to the other, for conduct and valor.
CIMON
Peripoltas, the prophet, having brought the king Opheltas, and those
under his command, from Thessaly into Boeotia, left there a family,
which flourished a long time after; the greatest part of them
inhabiting Chaeronea, the first city out of which they expelled the
barbarians. The descendants of this race, being men of bold attempts
and warlike habits, exposed themselves to so many dangers, in the
invasions of the Mede, and in battles against the Gauls, that at last
they were almost wholly consumed.
There was left one orphan of this house, called Damon, surnamed
Peripoltas, in beauty and greatness of spirit surpassing all of his
age, but rude and undisciplined in temper. A Roman captain of a company
that wintered in Chaeronea became passionately fond of this youth, who
was now pretty nearly grown a man. And finding all his approaches, his
gifts, and his entreaties alike repulsed, he showed violent
inclinations to assault Damon. Our native Chaeronea was then in a
distressed condition, too small and too poor to meet with anything but
neglect. Damon, being sensible of this, and looking upon himself as
injured already, resolved to inflict punishment. Accordingly, he and
sixteen of his companions conspired against the captain; but that the
design might be managed without any danger of being discovered, they
all daubed their faces at night with soot. Thus disguised and inflamed
with wine, they set upon him by break of day, as he was sacrificing in
the marketplace; and having killed him, and several others that were
with him, they fled out of the city, which was extremely alarmed and
troubled at the murder. The council assembled immediately, and
pronounced sentence of death against Damon and his accomplices. This
they did to justify the city to the Romans. But that evening, as the
magistrates were at supper together, according to the custom, Damon and
his confederates breaking into the hall, killed them, and then again
fled out of the town. About this time, Lucius Lucullus chanced to be
passing that way with a body of troops, upon some expedition, and this
disaster having but recently happened, he stayed to examine the matter.
Upon inquiry, he found the city was in nowise faulty, but rather that
they themselves had suffered; therefore he drew out the soldiers, and
carried them away with him. Yet Damon continuing to ravage the country
all about, the citizens, by messages and decrees, in appearance
favorable, enticed him into the city, and upon his return, made him
Gymnasiarch; but afterwards as he was anointing himself in the vapor
baths, they set upon him and killed him. For a long while after
apparitions continuing to be seen, and groans to be heard in that
place, so our fathers have told us, they ordered the gates of the baths
to be built up; and even to this day those who live in the neighborhood
believe that they sometimes see specters, and hear alarming sounds. The
posterity of Damon, of whom some still remain, mostly in Phocis, near
the town of Stiris, are called Asbolomeni, that is, in the Aeolian
idiom, men daubed with soot; because Damon was thus besmeared when he
committed this murder.
But there being a quarrel between the people of Chaeronea and the
Orchomenians, their neighbors, these latter hired an informer, a Roman,
to accuse the community of Chaeronea, as if it had been a single
person, of the murder of the Romans, of which only Damon and his
companions were guilty; accordingly, the process wee commenced, and the
cause pleaded before the Praetor of Macedon, since the Romans as yet
had not sent governors into Greece. The advocates who defended the
inhabitants appealed to the testimony of Lucullus, who, in answer to a
letter the Praetor wrote to him, returned a true account of the
matter-of-fact. By this means the town obtained its acquittal, and
escaped a most serious danger. The citizens thus preserved erected a
statue to Lucullus in the market-place, near that of the god Bacchus.
We also have the same impressions of gratitude; and though removed from
the events by the distance of several generations, we yet feel the
obligation to extend to ourselves; and as we think an image of the
character and habits, to be a greater honor than one merely
representing the face and the person, we will put Lucullus's life
amongst our parallels of illustrious men, and without swerving from the
truth, will record his actions. The commemoration will be itself a
sufficient proof of our grateful feeling, and he himself would not
thank us, if in recompense for a service, which consisted in speaking
the truth, we should abuse his memory with a false and counterfeit
narration. For as we would wish that a painter who is to draw a
beautiful face in which there is yet some imperfection, should neither
wholly leave out, nor yet too pointedly express what is defective,
because this would deform it, and that spoil the resemblance; so, since
it is hard, or indeed perhaps impossible, to show the life of a man
wholly free from blemish, in all that is excellent we must follow truth
exactly, and give it fully; any lapses or faults that occur, through
human passions or political necessities, we may regard rather as the
shortcomings of some particular virtue, than as the natural effects of
vice; and may be content without introducing them, curiously and
officiously, into our narrative, if it be but out of tenderness to the
weakness of nature, which has never succeeded in producing any human
character so perfect in virtue, as to be pure from all admixture, and
open to no criticism. On considering; with myself to whom I should
compare Lucullus, I find none so exactly his parallel as Cimon.
They were both valiant in war, and successful against the barbarians;
both gentle in political life, and more than any others gave their
countrymen a respite from civil troubles at home, while abroad, each of
them raised trophies and gained famous victories. No Greek before
Cimon, nor Roman before Lucullus, ever carried the scene of war so far
from their own country; putting out of the question the acts of Bacchus
and Hercules, and any exploit of Perseus against the Ethiopians, Medes,
and Armenians, or again of Jason, of which any record that deserves
credit can be said to have come down to our days. Moreover in this they
were alike, that they did not finish the enterprises they undertook.
They brought their enemies near their ruin, but never entirely
conquered them. There was yet a greater conformity in the free
good-will and lavish abundance of their entertainments and general
hospitalities, and in the youthful laxity of their habits. Other points
of resemblance, which we have failed to notice, may be easily collected
from our narrative itself.
Cimon was the son of Miltiades and Hegesipyle, who was by birth a
Thracian, and daughter to the king Olorus, as appears from the poems of
Melanthius and Archelaus, written in praise of Cimon. By this means the
historian Thucydides was his kinsman by the mother's side; for his
father's name also, in remembrance of this common ancestor, was Olorus,
and he was the owner of the gold mines in Thrace, and met his death, it
is said, by violence, in Scapte Hyle, a district of Thrace; and his
remains having afterwards been brought into Attica, a monument is shown
as his among those of the family of Cimon, near the tomb of Elpinice,
Cimon's sister. But Thucydides was of the township of Halimus, and
Miltiades and his family were Laciadae. Miltiades, being condemned in a
fine of fifty talents to the State, and unable to pay it, was cast into
prison, and there died. Thus Cimon was left an orphan very young, with
his sister Elpinice, who was also young and unmarried. And at first he
had but an indifferent reputation, being looked upon as disorderly in
his habits, fond of drinking, and resembling his grandfather, also
called Cimon, in character, whose simplicity got him the surname of
Coalemus. Stesimbrotus of Thasos, who lived near about the same time
with Cimon, reports of him that he had little acquaintance either with
music, or any of the other liberal studies and accomplishments, then
common among the Greeks; that he had nothing whatever of the quickness
and the ready speech of his countrymen in Attica; that he had great
nobleness and candor in his disposition, and in his character in
general, resembled rather a native of Peloponnesus, than of Athens; as
Euripides describes Hercules,
-- Rude
And unrefined, for great things well-endued;
for this may fairly be added to the character which Stesimbrotus has
given of him.
They accused him, in his younger years, of cohabiting with his own
sister Elpinice, who, indeed, otherwise had no very clear reputation,
but was reported to have been over intimate with Polygnotus, the
painter; and hence, when he painted the Trojan women in the porch, then
called the Plesianactium, and now the Poecile, he made Laodice a
portrait of her. Polygnotus was not an ordinary mechanic, nor was he
paid for this work, but out of a desire to please the Athenians,
painted the portico for nothing. So it is stated by the historians, and
in the following verses by the poet Melanthius: --
Wrought by his hand the deeds of heroes grace
At his own charge our temples and our Place.
Some affirm that Elpinice lived with her brother, not secretly, but as
his married wife, her poverty excluding her from any suitable match.
But afterward, when Callias, one of the richest men of Athens, fell in
love with her, and proffered to pay the fine the father was condemned
in, if he could obtain the daughter in marriage, with Elpinice's own
consent, Cimon betrothed her to Callias. There is no doubt but that
Cimon was, in general, of an amorous temper. For Melanthius, in his
elegies, rallies him on his attachment for Asteria of Salamis, and
again for a certain Mnestra. And there can be no doubt of his unusually
passionate affection for his lawful wife Isodice, the daughter of
Euryptolemus, the son of Megacles; nor of his regret, even to
impatience, at her death, if any conclusion may be drawn from those
elegies of condolence, addressed to him upon his loss of her. The
philosopher Panaetius is of opinion, that Archelaus, the writer on
physics, was the author of them, and indeed the time seems to favor
that conjecture. All the other points of Cimon's character were noble
and good. He was as daring as Miltiades, and not inferior to
Themistocles in judgment, and was incomparably more just and honest
than either of them. Fully their equal in all military virtues, in the
ordinary duties of a citizen at home he was immeasurably their
superior. And this, too, when he was very young, his years not yet
strengthened by any experience. For when Themistocles, upon the Median
invasion, advised the Athenians to forsake their city and their
country, and to carry all their arms on shipboard, and fight the enemy
by sea, in the straits of Salamis; when all the people stood amazed at
the confidence and rashness of this advice, Cimon was seen, the first
of all men, passing with a cheerful countenance through the Ceramicus,
on his way with his companions to the citadel, carrying a bridle in his
hand to offer to the goddess, intimating that there was no more need of
horsemen now, but of mariners. There, after he had paid his devotions
to the goddess, and offered up the bridle, he took down one of the
bucklers that hung upon the walls of the temple, and went down to the
port; by this example giving confidence to many of the citizens. He was
also of a fairly handsome person, according to the poet Ion, tall and
large, and let his thick and curly hair grow long. After he had
acquitted himself gallantly in this battle of Salamis, he obtained
great repute among the Athenians, and was regarded with affection, as
well as admiration. He had many who followed after him and bade him
aspire to actions not less famous than his father's battle of Marathon.
And when he came forward in political life, the people welcomed him
gladly, being now weary of Themistocles; in opposition to whom, and
because of the frankness and easiness of his temper, which was
agreeable to everyone, they advanced Cimon to the highest employments
in the government. The man that contributed most to his promotion was
Aristides, who early discerned in his character his natural capacity,
and purposely raised him, that he might be a counterpoise to the craft
and boldness of Themistocles.
After the Medes had been driven out of Greece, Cimon was sent out as
admiral, when the Athenians had not yet attained their dominion by sea,
but still followed Pausanias and the Lacedaemonians; and his
fellow-citizens under his command were highly distinguished, both for
the excellence of their discipline, and for their extraordinary zeal
and readiness. And further, perceiving that Pausanias was carrying on
secret communications with the barbarians, and writing letters to the
king of Persia to betray Greece, and, puffed up with authority and
success, was treating the allies haughtily, and committing many wanton
injustices, Cimon, taking this advantage, by acts of kindness to those
who were suffering wrong, and by his general humane bearing, robbed him
of the command of the Greeks, before he was aware, not by arms, but by
his mere language and character. The greatest part of the allies, no
longer able to endure the harshness and pride of Pausanias, revolted
from him to Cimon and Aristides, who accepted the duty, and wrote to
the Ephors of Sparta, desiring them to recall a man who was causing
dishonor to Sparta, and trouble to Greece. They tell of Pausanias, that
when he was in Byzantium, he solicited a young lady of a noble family
in the city, whose name was Cleonice, to debauch her. Her parents,
dreading his cruelty, were forced to consent, and so abandoned their
daughter to his wishes. The daughter asked the servants outside the
chamber to put out all the lights; so that approaching silently and in
the dark toward his bed, she stumbled upon the lamp, which she
overturned. Pausanias, who was fallen asleep, awakened and startled
with the noise, thought an assassin had taken that dead time of night
to murder him, so that hastily snatching up his poniard that lay by
him, he struck the girl, who fell with the blow, and died. After this,
he never had rest, but was continually haunted by her, and saw an
apparition visiting him in his sleep, and addressing him with these
angry words: --
Go on thy way, unto the evil end,
That doth on lust and violence attend.
This was one of the chief occasions of indignation against him among
the confederates, who now joining their resentments and forces with
Cimon's, besieged him in Byzantium. He escaped out of their hands, and,
continuing, as it is said, to be disturbed by the apparition, fled to
the oracle of the dead at Heraclea, raised the ghost of Cleonice, and
entreated her to be reconciled. Accordingly she appeared to him, and
answered, that as soon as he came to Sparta, he should speedily be
freed from all evils; obscurely foretelling, it would seem, his
imminent death. This story is related by many authors.
Cimon, strengthened with the accession of the allies, went as general
into Thrace. For he was told that some great men among the Persians, of
the king's kindred, being in possession of Eion, a city situated upon
the river Strymon, infested the neighboring Greeks. First he defeated
these Persians in battle, and shut them up within the walls of their
town. Then he fell upon the Thracians of the country beyond the
Strymon, because they supplied Eion with victuals, and driving them
entirely out of the country, took possession of it as conqueror, by
which means he reduced the besieged to such straits, that Butes, who
commanded there for the king, in desperation set fire to the town, and
burned himself, his goods, and all his relations, in one common flame.
By this means, Cimon got the town, but no great booty; as the
barbarians had not only consumed themselves in the fire, but the
richest of their effects. However, he put the country about into the
hands of the Athenians, a most advantageous and desirable situation for
a settlement. For this action, the people permitted him to erect the
stone Mercuries, upon the first of which was this inscription: --
Of bold and patient spirit, too, were those,
Who, where the Strymon under Eion flows,
With famine and the sword, to utmost need
Reduced at last the children of the Mede.
Upon the second stood this: --
The Athenians to their leaders this reward
For great and useful service did accord;
Others hereafter, shall, from their applause,
Learn to be valiant in their country's cause
and upon the third, the following:
With Atreus' sons, this city sent of yore
Divine Menestheus to the Trojan shore;
Of all the Greeks, so Homer's verses say,
The ablest man an army to array:
So old the title of her sons the name
Of chiefs and champions in the field to claim.
Though the name of Cimon is not mentioned in these inscriptions, yet
his contemporaries considered them to be the very highest honors to
him; as neither Miltiades nor Themistocles ever received the like. When
Miltiades claimed a garland, Sochares of Decelea stood up in the midst
of the assembly and opposed it, using words which, though ungracious,
were received with applause by the people. "When you have gained a
victory by yourself, Miltiades, then you may ask to triumph so too."
What then induced them so particularly to honor Cimon? Was it that
under other commanders they stood upon the defensive? but by his
conduct, they not only attacked their enemies, but invaded them in
their own country, and acquired new territory, becoming masters of Eion
and Amphipolis, where they planted colonies, as also they did in the
isle of Scyros, which Cimon had taken on the following occasion. The
Dolopians were the inhabitants of this isle, a people who neglected all
husbandry, and had, for many generations, been devoted to piracy; this
they practiced to that degree, that at last they began to plunder
foreigners that brought merchandise into their ports. Some merchants of
Thessaly, who had come to shore near Ctesium, were not only spoiled of
their goods, but themselves put into confinement. These men afterwards
escaping from their prison, went and obtained sentence against the
Scyrians in a court of Amphictyons, and when the Scyrian people
declined to make public restitution, and called upon the individuals
who had got the plunder to give it up, these persons, in alarm, wrote
to Cimon to succor them with his fleet, and declared themselves ready
to deliver the town into his hands. Cimon, by these means, got the
town, expelled the Dolopian pirates, and so opened the traffic of the
Aegean sea. And, understanding that the ancient Theseus, the son of
Aegeus, when he fled from Athens and took refuge in this isle, was here
treacherously slain by king Lycomedes, who feared him, Cimon endeavored
to find out where he was buried. For an oracle had commanded the
Athenians to bring home his ashes, and pay him all due honors as a
hero; but hitherto they had not been able to learn where he was
interred, as the people of Scyros dissembled the knowledge of it, and
were not willing to allow a search. But now, great inquiry being made,
with some difficulty he found out the tomb, and carried the relics into
his own galley, and with great pomp and show brought them to Athens,
four hundred years, or thereabouts, after his expulsion. This act got
Cimon great favor with the people, one mark of which was the judgment,
afterwards so famous, upon the tragic poets. Sophocles, still a young
man, had just brought forward his first plays; opinions were much
divided, and the spectators had taken sides with some heat. So, to
determine the case, Apsephion, who was at that time archon, would not
cast lots who should be judges; but when Cimon, and his brother
commanders with him, came into the theater, after they had performed
the usual rites to the god of the festival, he would not allow them to
retire, but came forward and made them swear, (being ten in all, one
from each tribe,) the usual oath; and so being sworn judges, he made
them sit down to give sentence. The eagerness for victory grew all the
warmer, from the ambition to get the suffrages of such honorable
judges. And the victory was at last adjudged to Sophocles, which
Aeschylus is said to have taken so ill, that he left Athens shortly
after, and went in anger to Sicily, where he died, and was buried near
the city of Gela.
Ion relates that when he was a young man, and recently come from Chios
to Athens, he chanced to sup with Cimon, at Laomedon's house. After
supper, when they had, according to custom, poured out wine to the
honor of the gods, Cimon was desired by the company to give them a
song, which he did with sufficient success, and received the
commendations of the company, who remarked on his superiority to
Themistocles, who, on a like occasion, had declared he had never learnt
to sing, nor to play, and only knew how to make a city rich and
powerful. After talking of things incident to such entertainments, they
entered upon the particulars of the several actions for which Cimon had
been famous. And when they were mentioning the most signal, he told
them they had omitted one, upon which he valued himself most for
address and good contrivance. He gave this account of it. When the
allies had taken a great number of the barbarians prisoners in Sestos
and Byzantium, they gave him the preference to divide the booty; he
accordingly put the prisoners in one lot, and the spoils of their rich
attire and jewels in the other. This the allies complained of as an
unequal division, but he gave them their choice to take which lot they
would, for that the Athenians should be content with that which they
refused. Herophytus of Samos advised them to take the ornaments for
their share, and leave the slaves to the Athenians; and Cimon went
away, and was much laughed at for his ridiculous division. For the
allies carried away the golden bracelets, and armlets, and collars, and
purple robes, and the Athenians had only the naked bodies of the
captives, which they could make no advantage of, being unused to labor.
But a little while after, the friends and kinsmen of the prisoners
coming from Lydia and Phrygia, redeemed every one his relations at a
high ransom; so that by this means Cimon got so much treasure that he
maintained his whole fleet of galleys with the money for four months;
and yet there was some left to lay up in the treasury at Athens.
Cimon now grew rich, and what he gained from the barbarians with honor,
he spent yet more honorably upon the citizens. For he pulled down all
the enclosures of his gardens and grounds, that strangers, and the
needy of his fellow-citizens, might gather of his fruits freely. At
home, he kept a table, plain, but sufficient for a considerable number;
to which any poor townsman had free access, and so might support
himself without labor, with his whole time left free for public duties.
Aristotle states, however, that this reception did not extend to all
the Athenians, but only to his own fellow townsmen, the Laciadae.
Besides this, he always went attended by two or three young companions,
very well clad; and if he met with an elderly citizen in a poor habit,
one of these would change clothes with the decayed citizen, which was
looked upon as very nobly done. He enjoined them, likewise, to carry a
considerable quantity of coin about them, which they were to convey
silently into the hands of the better class of poor men, as they stood
by them in the marketplace. This, Cratinus the poet speaks of in one of
his comedies, the Archilochi: --
For I, Metrobius too, the scrivener poor,
Of ease and comfort in my age secure,
By Greece's noblest son in life's decline,
Cimon, the generous-hearted, the divine,
Well-fed and feasted hoped till death to be,
Death which, alas! has taken him ere me.
Gorgias the Leontine gives him this character, that he got riches that
he might use them, and used them that he might get honor by them. And
Critias, one of the thirty tyrants, makes it, in his elegies, his wish
to have
The Scopads' wealth, and Cimon's nobleness,
And king Agesilaus's success.
Lichas, we know, became famous in Greece, only because on the days of
the sports, when the young boys run naked, he used to entertain the
strangers that came to see these diversions. But Cimon's generosity
outdid all the old Athenian hospitality and good-nature. For though it
is the city's just boast that their forefathers taught the rest of
Greece to sow corn, and how to use springs of water, and to kindle
fire, yet Cimon, by keeping open house for his fellow-citizens, and
giving travelers liberty to eat the fruits which the several seasons
produced in his land, seemed to restore to the world that community of
goods, which mythology says existed in the reign of Saturn. Those who
object to him that he did this to be popular, and gain the applause of
the vulgar, are confuted by the constant tenor of the rest of his
actions, which all tended to uphold the interests of the nobility and
the Spartan policy, of which he gave instances, when together with
Aristides, he opposed Themistocles, who was advancing the authority of
the people beyond its just limits, and resisted Ephialtes, who to
please the multitude, was for abolishing the jurisdiction of the court
of Areopagus. And when all of his time, except Aristides and Ephialtes,
enriched themselves out of the public money, he still kept his hands
clean and untainted, and to his last day never acted or spoke for his
own private gain or emolument. They tell us that Rhoesaces, a Persian,
who had traitorously revolted from the king his master, fled to Athens,
and there, being harassed by sycophants, who were still accusing him to
the people, he applied himself to Cimon for redress, and to gain his
favor, laid down in his doorway two cups, the one full of gold, and the
other of silver Darics. Cimon smiled and asked him whether he wished to
have Cimon's hired service or his friendship. He replied, his
friendship. "If so," said he, "take away these pieces, for being your
friend, when I shall have occasion for them, I will send and ask for
them."
The allies of the Athenians began now to be weary of war and military
service, willing to have repose, and to look after their husbandry and
traffic. For they saw and did not fear any new vexations from them.
They still paid the tax they were assessed at, but did not send men and
galleys, as they had done before. This the other Athenian generals
wished to constrain them to, and by judicial proceedings against
defaulters, and penalties which they inflicted on them, made the
government uneasy, and even odious. But Cimon practiced a contrary
method; he forced no man to go that was not willing, but of those that
desired to be excused from service he took money and vessels unmanned,
and let them yield to the temptation of staying at home, to attend to
their private business. Thus they lost their military habits, and
luxury and their own folly quickly changed them into unwarlike
husbandmen and traders, while Cimon, continually embarking large
numbers of Athenians on board his galleys, thoroughly disciplined them
in his expeditions, their enemies driven out of the country, and ere
long made them the lords of their own paymasters. The allies, whose
indolence maintained them, while they thus went sailing about
everywhere, and incessantly bearing arms and acquiring skill, began to
fear and flatter then, and found themselves after a while allies no
longer, but unwittingly become tributaries and slaves.
Nor did any man ever do more than Cimon did to humble the pride of the
Persian king. He was not content with getting rid of him out of Greece;
but following close at his heels, before the barbarians could take
breath and recover themselves, he was already at work, and what with
his devastations, and his forcible reduction of some places, and the
revolts and voluntary accession of others, in the end, from Ionia to
Pamphylia, all Asia was clear of Persian soldiers. Word being brought
him that the royal commanders were lying in wait upon the coast of
Pamphylia, with a numerous land army, and a large fleet, he determined
to make the whole sea on this side the Chelidonian islands so
formidable to them that they should never dare to show themselves in
it; and setting off from Cnidos and the Triopian headland, with two
hundred galleys, which had been originally built with particular care
by Themistocles, for speed and rapid evolutions, and to which he now
gave greater width and roomier decks along the sides to move to and fro
upon, so as to allow a great number of full-armed soldiers to take part
in the engagements and fight from them, he shaped his course first of
all against the town of Phaselis, which, though inhabited by Greeks,
yet would not quit the interests of Persia, but denied his galleys
entrance into their port. Upon this he wasted the country, and drew up
his army to their very walls; but the soldiers of Chios, who were then
serving under him, being ancient friends to the Phaselites, endeavoring
to propitiate the general in their behalf, at the same time shot arrows
into the town, to which were fastened letters conveying intelligence.
At length he concluded peace with them, upon the conditions that they
should pay down ten talents, and follow him against the barbarians.
Ephorus says the admiral of the Persian fleet was Tithraustes, and the
general of the land army Pherendates; but Callisthenes is positive that
Ariomandes, the son of Gobryas, had the supreme command of all the
forces. He lay waiting with the whole fleet at the mouth of the river
Eurymedon, with no design to fight, but expecting a reinforcement of
eighty Phoenician ships on their way from Cyprus. Cimon, aware of this,
put out to sea, resolved, if they would not fight a battle willingly,
to force them to it. The barbarians, seeing this, retired within the
mouth of the river to avoid being attacked; but when they saw the
Athenians come upon them, notwithstanding their retreat, they met them
with six hundred ships, as Phanodemus relates but according to Ephorus,
only with three hundred and fifty. However, they did nothing worthy
such mighty forces, but immediately turned the prows of their galleys
toward the shore, where those that came first threw themselves upon the
land, and fled to their army drawn up thereabout, while the rest
perished with their vessels, or were taken. By this, one may guess at
their number, for though a great many escaped out of the fight, and a
great many others were sunk, yet two hundred galleys were taken by the
Athenians.
When their land army drew toward the seaside, Cimon was in suspense
whether he should venture to try and force his way on shore; as he
should thus expose his Greeks, wearied with slaughter in the first
engagement, to the swords of the barbarians, who were all fresh men,
and many times their number. But seeing his men resolute, and flushed
with victory, he bade them land, though they were not yet cool from
their first battle. As soon as they touched ground, they set up a shout
and ran upon the enemy, who stood firm and sustained the first shock
with great courage, so that the fight was a hard one, and some
principal men of the Athenians in rank and courage were slain. At
length, though with much ado, they routed the barbarians, and killing
some, took others prisoners, and plundered all their tents and
pavilions which were full of rich spoil. Cimon, like a skilled athlete
at the games, having in one day carried off two victories, wherein he
surpassed that of Salamis by sea, and that of Plataea by land, was
encouraged to try for yet another success. News being brought that the
Phoenician succors, in number eighty sail, had come in sight at Hydrum,
he set off with all speed to find them, while they as yet had not
received any certain account of the larger fleet, and were in doubt
what to think; so that thus surprised, they lost all their vessels, and
most of their men with them. This success of Cimon so daunted the king
of Persia, that he presently made that celebrated peace, by which he
engaged that his armies should come no nearer the Grecian sea than the
length of a horse's course; and that none of his galleys or vessels of
war should appear between the Cyanean and Chelidonian isles.
Callisthenes, however, says that he did not agree to any such articles,
but that upon the fear this victory gave him, he did in reality thus
act, and kept off so far from Greece, that when Pericles with fifty,
and Ephialtes with thirty galleys, cruised beyond the Chelidonian
isles, they did not discover one Persian vessel. But in the collection
which Craterus made of the public acts of the people, there is a draft
of this treaty given. And it is told, also, that at Athens they erected
the altar of Peace upon this occasion, and decreed particular honors to
Callias, who was employed as ambassador to procure the treaty.
The people of Athens raised so much money from the spoils of this war,
which were publicly sold, that, besides other expenses, and raising the
south wall of the citadel, they laid the foundation of the long walls,
not, indeed, finished till at a later time, which were called the Legs.
And the place where they built them being soft and marshy ground, they
were forced to sink great weights of stone and rubble to secure the
foundation, and did all this out of the money Cimon supplied them with.
It was he, likewise, who first embellished the upper city with those
fine and ornamental places of exercise and resort, which they afterward
so much frequented and delighted in. He set the market-place with plane
trees; and the Academy, which was before a bare, dry, and dirty spot,
he converted into a well-watered grove, with shady alleys to walk in,
and open courses for races.
When the Persians who had made themselves masters of the Chersonese, so
far from quitting it, called in the people of the interior of Thrace to
help them against Cimon, whom they despised for the smallness of his
forces, he set upon them with only four galleys, and took thirteen of
theirs; and having driven out the Persians, and subdued the Thracians,
he made the whole Chersonese the property of Athens. Next, he attacked
the people of Thasos, who had revolted from the Athenians; and, having
defeated them in a fight at sea, where he took thirty-three of their
vessels, he took their town by siege, and acquired for the Athenians
all the mines of gold on the opposite coast, and the territory
dependent on Thasos. This opened him a fair passage into Macedon, so
that he might, it was thought, have acquired a good portion of that
country; and because he neglected the opportunity, he was suspected of
corruption, and of having been bribed off by king Alexander. So, by the
combination of his adversaries, he was accused of being false to his
country. In his defense he told the judges, that he had always shown
himself in his public life the friend, not, like other men, of rich
Ionians and Thessalians, to be courted, and to receive presents, but of
the Lacedaemonians; for as he admired, so he wished to imitate the
plainness of their habits, their temperance, and simplicity of living,
which he preferred to any sort of riches; but that he always had been,
and still was proud to enrich his country with the spoils of her
enemies. Stesimbrotus, making mention of this trial, states that
Elpinice, in behalf of her brother, addressed herself to Pericles, the
most vehement of his accusers, to whom Pericles answered, with a smile,
"You are old, Elpinice, to meddle with affairs of this nature."
However, he proved the mildest of his prosecutors, and rose up but once
all the while, almost as a matter of form, to plead against him. Cimon
was acquitted.
In his public life after this, he continued, whilst at home, to control
and restrain the common people, who would have trampled upon the
nobility, and drawn all the power and sovereignty to themselves. But
when he afterwards was sent out to war, the multitude broke loose, as
it were, and overthrew all the ancient laws and customs they had
hitherto observed, and, chiefly at the instigation of Ephialtes,
withdrew the cognizance of almost all causes from the Areopagus; so
that all jurisdiction now being transferred to them, the government was
reduced to a perfect democracy, and this by the help of Pericles, who
was already powerful, and had pronounced in favor of the common people.
Cimon, when he returned, seeing the authority of this great council so
upset, was exceedingly troubled, and endeavored to remedy these
disorders by bringing the courts of law to their former state, and
restoring the old aristocracy of the time of Clisthenes. This the
others declaimed against with all the vehemence possible, and began to
revive those stories concerning him and his sister, and cried out
against him as the partisan of the Lacedaemonians. To these calumnies
the famous verses of Eupolis, the poet upon Cimon refer: --
He was as good as others that one sees,
But he was fond of drinking and of ease;
And would at nights to Sparta often roam,
Leaving his sister desolate at home.
But if, though slothful and a drunkard, he could capture so many towns,
and gain so many victories, certainly if he had been sober and minded
his business, there had been no Grecian commander, either before or
after him, that could have surpassed him for exploits of war.
He was, indeed, a favorer of the Lacedaemonians even from his youth,
and he gave the names of Lacedaemonius and Eleus to two sons, twins,
whom he had, as Stesimbrotus says, by a woman of Clitorium, whence
Pericles often upbraided them with their mother's blood. But Diodorus,
the geographer, asserts that both these, and another son of Cimon's,
whose name was Thessalus, were born of Isodice, the daughter of
Euryptolemus, the son of Megacles.
However, this is certain, that Cimon was countenanced by the
Lacedaemonians in opposition to Themistocles, whom they disliked; and
while he was yet very young, they endeavored to raise and increase his
credit in Athens. This the Athenians perceived at first with pleasure,
and the favor the Lacedaemonians showed him was in various ways
advantageous to them and their affairs; as at that time they were just
rising to power, and were occupied in winning the allies to their side.
So they seemed not at all offended with the honor and kindness showed
to Cimon, who then had the chief management of all the affairs of
Greece, and was acceptable to the Lacedaemonians, and courteous to the
allies. But afterwards the Athenians, grown more powerful, when they
saw Cimon so entirely devoted to the Lacedaemonians, began to be angry,
for he would always in his speeches prefer them to the Athenians, and
upon every occasion, when he would reprimand them for a fault, or
incite them to emulation, he would exclaim, "The Lacedaemonians would
not do thus." This raised the discontent, and got him in some degree
the hatred of the citizens; but that which ministered chiefly to the
accusation against him fell out upon the following occasion.
In the fourth year of the reign of Archidamus, the son of Zeuxidamus,
king of Sparta, there happened in the country of Lacedaemon, the
greatest earthquake that was known in the memory of man; the earth
opened into chasms, and the mountain Taygetus was so shaken, that some
of the rocky points of it fell down, and except five houses, all the
town of Sparta was shattered to pieces. They say, that a little before
any motion was perceived, as the young men and the boys just grown up
were exercising themselves together in the middle of the portico, a
hare, of a sudden, started out just by them, which the young men,
though all naked and daubed with oil, ran after for sport. No sooner
were they gone from the place, than the gymnasium fell down upon the
boys who had stayed behind, and killed them all. Their tomb is to this
day called Sismatias. Archidamus, by the present danger made
apprehensive of what might follow, and seeing the citizens intent upon
removing the most valuable of their goods out of their houses,
commanded an alarm to be sounded, as if an enemy were coming upon them,
in order that they should collect about him in a body, with arms. It
was this alone that saved Sparta at that time, for the Helots were got
together from the country about, with design to surprise the Spartans,
and overpower those whom the earthquake had spared. But finding them
armed and well prepared, they retired into the towns and openly made
war with them, gaining over a number of the Laconians of the country
districts; while at the same time the Messenians, also, made an attack
upon the Spartans, who therefore dispatched Periclidas to Athens to
solicit succors, of whom Aristophanes says in mockery that he came and
In a red jacket, at the altars seated, With a white face, for men and
arms entreated.
This Ephialtes opposed, protesting that they ought not to raise up or
assist a city that was a rival to Athens; but that being down, it were
best to keep her so, and let the pride and arrogance of Sparta be
trodden under. But Cimon, as Critias says, preferring the safety of
Lacedaemon to the aggrandizement of his own country, so persuaded the
people, that he soon marched out with a large army to their relief. Ion
records, also, the most successful expression which he used to move the
Athenians. "They ought not to suffer Greece to be lamed, nor their own
city to be deprived of her yoke-fellow."
In his return from aiding the Lacedaemonians, he passed with his army
through the territory of Corinth; where upon Lachartus reproached him
for bringing his army into the country, without first asking leave of
the people. For he that knocks at another man's door ought not to enter
the house till the master gives him leave. "But you, Corinthians, O
Lachartus," said Cimon, "did not knock at the gates of the Cleonaeans
and Megarians, but broke them down, and entered by force, thinking that
all places should be open to the stronger." And having thus rallied the
Corinthian, he passed on with his army. Some time after this, the
Lacedaemonians sent a second time to desire succors of the Athenians
against the Messenians and Helots, who had seized upon Ithome. But when
they came, fearing their boldness and gallantry, of all that came to
their assistance, they sent them only back, alleging they were
designing innovations. The Athenians returned home, enraged at this
usage, and vented their anger upon all those who were favorers of the
Lacedaemonians; and seizing some slight occasion, they banished Cimon
for ten years, which is the time prescribed to those that are banished
by the ostracism. In the mean time, the Lacedaemonians, on their return
after freeing Delphi from the Phocians, encamped their army at Tanagra,
whither the Athenians presently marched with design to fight them.
Cimon, also, came thither armed, and ranged himself among those of his
own tribe, which was the Oeneis, desirous of fighting with the rest
against the Spartans; but the council of five hundred being informed of
this, and frighted at it, his adversaries crying out he would disorder
the army, and bring the Lacedaemonians to Athens, commanded the
officers not to receive him. Wherefore Cimon left the army, conjuring
Euthippus, the Anaphlystian, and the rest of his companions, who were
most suspected as favoring the Lacedaemonians, to behave themselves
bravely against their enemies, and by their actions make their
innocence evident to their countrymen. These, being in all a hundred,
took the arms of Cimon and followed his advice; and making a body by
themselves, fought so desperately with the enemy, that they were all
cut off, leaving the Athenians deep regret for the loss of such brave
men, and repentance for having so unjustly suspected them. Accordingly,
they did not long retain their severity toward Cimon, partly upon
remembrance of his former services, and partly, perhaps, induced by the
juncture of the times. For being defeated at Tanagra in a great battle,
and fearing the Peloponnesians would come upon them at the opening of
the spring, they recalled Cimon by a decree, of which Pericles himself
was author. So reasonable were men's resentments in those times, and so
moderate their anger, that it always gave way to the public good. Even
ambition, the least governable of all human passions, could then yield
to the necessities of the State.
Cimon, as soon as he returned, put an end to the war, and reconciled
the two cities. Peace thus established, seeing the Athenians impatient
of being idle, and eager after the honor and aggrandizement of war,
lest they should set upon the Greeks themselves, or with so many ships
cruising about the isles and Peloponnesus, they should give occasions
to intestine wars, or complaints of their allies against them, he
equipped two hundred galleys, with design to make an attempt upon Egypt
and Cyprus; purposing, by this means, to accustom the Athenians to
fight against the barbarians, and enrich themselves honestly by
spoiling those who were the natural enemies to Greece. But when all
things were prepared, and the army ready to embark, Cimon had this
dream. It seemed to him that there was a furious bitch barking at him,
and, mixed with the barking, a kind of human voice uttered these words:
--
Come on, for thou shalt shortly be,
A pleasure to my whelps and me.
This dream was hard to interpret, yet Astyphilus of Posidonia, a man
skilled in divinations, and intimate with Cimon, told him that his
death was presaged by this vision, which he thus explained. A dog is
enemy to him be barks at; and one is always most a pleasure to one's
enemies, when one is dead; the mixture of human voice with barking
signifies the Medes, for the army of the Medes is mixed up of Greeks
and barbarians. After this dream, as he was sacrificing to Bacchus, and
the priest cutting up the victim, a number of ants, taking up the
congealed particles of the blood, laid them about Cimon's great toe.
This was not observed for a good while, but at the very time when Cimon
spied it, the priest came and showed him the liver of the sacrifice
imperfect, wanting that part of it called the head. But he could not
then recede from the enterprise, so he set sail. Sixty of his ships he
sent toward Egypt; with the rest he went and fought the king of
Persia's fleet, composed of Phoenician and Cilician galleys, recovered
all the cities thereabout, and threatened Egypt; designing no less than
the entire ruin of the Persian empire. And the rather, for that he was
informed Themistocles was in great repute among the barbarians, having
promised the king to lead his army, whenever he should make war upon
Greece. But Themistocles, it is said, abandoning all hopes of
compassing his designs, very much out of the despair of overcoming the
valor and good-fortune of Cimon, died a voluntary death. Cimon, intent
on great designs, which he was now to enter upon, keeping his navy
about the isle of Cyprus, sent messengers to consult the oracle of
Jupiter Ammon upon some secret matter. For it is not known about what
they were sent, and the god would give them no answer, but commanded
them to return again, for that Cimon was already with him. Hearing
this, they returned to sea, and as soon as they came to the Grecian
army, which was then about Egypt, they understood that Cimon was dead;
and computing the time of the oracle, they found that his death had
been signified, he being then already with the gods.
He died, some say, of sickness, while besieging Citium, in Cyprus;
according to others, of a wound he received in a skirmish with the
barbarians. When he perceived he should die, he commanded those under
his charge to return, and by no means to let the news of his death be
known by the way; this they did with such secrecy that they all came
home safe, and neither their enemies nor the allies knew what had
happened. Thus, as Phanodemus relates, the Grecian army was, as it
were, conducted by Cimon, thirty days after he was dead. But after his
death there was not one commander among the Greeks that did anything
considerable against the barbarians, and instead of uniting against
their common enemies, the popular leaders and partisans of war animated
them against one another to that degree, that none could interpose
their good offices to reconcile them. And while, by their mutual
discord, they ruined the power of Greece, they gave the Persians time
to recover breath, and repair all their losses. It is true, indeed,
Agesilaus carried the arms of Greece into Asia, but it was a long time
after; there were, indeed, some brief appearances of a war against the
king's lieutenants in the maritime provinces, but they all quickly
vanished; before he could perform anything of moment, he was recalled
by fresh civil dissensions and disturbances at home. So that he was
forced to leave the Persian king's officers to impose what tribute they
pleased on the Greek cities in Asia, the confederates and allies of the
Lacedaemonians. Whereas, in the time of Cimon, not so much as a
letter-carrier, or a single horseman, was ever seen to come within four
hundred furlongs of the sea.
The monuments, called Cimonian to this day, in Athens, show that his
remains were conveyed home, yet the inhabitants of the city Citium pay
particular honor to a certain tomb which they call the tomb of Cimon,
according to Nausicrates the rhetorician, who states that in a time of
famine, when the crops of their land all failed, they sent to the
oracle, which commanded them not to forget Cimon, but give him the
honors of a superior being. Such was the Greek commander.
LUCULLUS
Lucullus's grandfather had been consul; his uncle by the mother's
sister was Metellus, surnamed Numidicus. As for his parents, his father
was convicted of extortion, and his mother Caecilia's reputation was
bad. The first thing that Lucullus did before ever he stood for any
office, or meddled with the affairs of state, being then but a youth,
was, to accuse the accuser of his father, Servilius the augur, having
caught him in an offense against the state. This thing was much taken
notice of among the Romans, who commended it as an act of high merit.
Even without the provocation, the accusation was esteemed no unbecoming
action, for they delighted to see young men as eagerly attacking
injustice, as good dogs do wild beasts. But when great animosities
ensued, insomuch that some were wounded and killed in the fray,
Servilius escaped. Lucullus followed his studies, and became a
competent speaker, in both Greek and Latin, insomuch that Sylla, when
composing the commentaries of his own life and actions, dedicated them
to him, as one who could have performed the task better himself. His
speech was not only elegant and ready for purposes of mere business,
like the ordinary oratory which will in the public market-place,
Lash as a wounded tunny does the sea,
but on every other occasion shows itself
Dried up and perished with the want of wit;
but even in his younger days he addicted himself to the study, simply
for its own sake, of the liberal arts; and when advanced in years,
after a life of conflicts, he gave his mind, as it were, its liberty,
to enjoy in full leisure the refreshment of philosophy; and summoning
up his contemplative faculties, administered a timely check, after his
difference with Pompey, to his feelings of emulation and ambition.
Besides what has been said of his love of learning already, one
instance more was, that in his youth, upon a suggestion of writing the
Marsian war in Greek and Latin verse and prose, arising out of some
pleasantry that passed into a serious proposal, he agreed with
Hortensius the lawyer, and Sisenna the historian, that he would take
his lot; and it seems that the lot directed him to the Greek tongue,
for a Greek history of that war is still extant.
Among the many signs of the great love which he bore to his brother
Marcus, one in particular is commemorated by the Romans. Though he was
elder brother, he would not step into authority without him, but
deferred his own advance until his brother was qualified to bear a
share with him, and so won upon the people, as when absent to be chosen
Aedile with him.
He gave many and early proofs of his valor and conduct, in the Marsian
war, and was admired by Sylla for his constancy and mildness, and
always employed in affairs of importance, especially in the mint; most
of the money for carrying on the Mithridatic war being coined by him in
Peloponnesus, which, by the soldiers' wants, was brought into rapid
circulation, and long continued current under the name of Lucullean
coin. After this, when Sylla conquered Athens, and was victorious by
land, but found the supplies for his army cut off, the enemy being
master at sea, Lucullus was the man whom he sent into Libya and Egypt,
to procure him shipping. It was the depth of winter when he ventured
with but three small Greek vessels, and as many Rhodian galleys, not
only into the main sea, but also among multitudes of vessels belonging
to the enemies, who were cruising about as absolute masters. Arriving
at Crete, he gained it; and finding the Cyrenians harassed by long
tyrannies and wars, he composed their troubles, and settled their
government; putting the city in mind of that saying which Plato once
had oracularly uttered of them, who, being requested to prescribe laws
to them, and mold them into some sound form of government, made answer,
that it was a hard thing to give laws to the Cyrenians, abounding, as
they did, in wealth and plenty. For nothing is more intractable than
man when in felicity, nor anything more docile, when he has been
reduced and humbled by fortune. This made the Cyrenians so willingly
submit to the laws which Lucullus imposed upon them. From thence
sailing into Egypt, and, pressed by pirates, he lost most of his
vessels; but he himself narrowly escaping, made a magnificent entry
into Alexandria. The whole fleet, a compliment due only to royalty, met
him in full array, and the young Ptolemy showed wonderful kindness to
him, appointing him lodging and diet in the palace, where no foreign
commander before him had been received. Besides, he gave him gratuities
and presents, not such as were usually given to men of his condition,
but four times as much; of which, however, he took nothing more than
served his necessity, and accepted of no gift, though what was worth
eighty talents was offered him. It is reported he neither went to see
Memphis, nor any of the celebrated wonders of Egypt. It was for a man
of no business and much curiosity to see such things, not for him who
had left his commander in the field, lodging under the ramparts of his
enemies.
Ptolemy, fearing the issue of that war, deserted the confederacy, but
nevertheless sent a convoy with him as far as Cyprus, and at parting,
with much ceremony, wishing him a good voyage, gave him a very precious
emerald set in gold. Lucullus at first refused it, but when the king
showed him his own likeness cut upon it, he thought he could not
persist in a denial, for had he parted with such open offense, it might
have endangered his passage. Drawing a considerable squadron together,
which he summoned, as he sailed by, out of all the maritime towns,
except those suspected of piracy, he sailed for Cyprus; and there
understanding that the enemy lay in wait under the promontories for
him, he laid up his fleet, and sent to the cities to send in provisions
for his wintering among them. But when time served, he launched his
ships suddenly, and went off, and hoisting all his sails in the night,
while he kept them down in the day, thus came safe to Rhodes. Being
furnished with ships at Rhodes, he also prevailed upon the inhabitants
of Cos and Cnidus, to leave the king's side, and join in an expedition
against the Samians. Out of Chios he himself drove the king's party,
and set the Colophonians at liberty, having seized Epigonus the tyrant,
who oppressed them.
About this time Mithridates left Pergamus, and retired to Pitane, where
being closely besieged by Fimbria on the land, and not daring to engage
with so bold and victorious a commander, he was concerting means for
escape by sea, and sent for all his fleets from every quarter to attend
him. Which when Fimbria perceived, having no ships of his own, he sent
to Lucullus, entreating him to assist him with his, in subduing the
most odious and warlike of kings, lest the opportunity of humbling
Mithridates, the prize which the Romans had pursued with so much blood
and trouble, should now at last be lost, when he was within the net,
and easily to be taken. And were he caught, no one would be more highly
commended than Lucullus, who stopped his passage and seized him in his
flight. Being driven from the land by the one, and met in the sea by
the other, he would give matter of renown and glory to them both, and
the much applauded actions of Sylla at Orchomenus and about Chaeronea,
would no longer be thought of by the Romans. The proposal was no
unreasonable thing; it being obvious to all men, that if Lucullus had
hearkened to Fimbria, and with his navy, which was then near at hand,
had blocked up the haven, the war soon had been brought to an end, and
infinite numbers of mischiefs prevented thereby. But he, whether from
the sacredness of friendship between himself and Sylla, reckoning all
other considerations of public or of private advantage inferior to it,
or out of detestation of the wickedness of Fimbria, whom he abhorred
for advancing himself by the late death of his friend and the general
of the army, or by a divine fortune sparing Mithridates then, that he
might have him an adversary for a time to come, for whatever reason,
refused to comply, and suffered Mithridates to escape and laugh at the
attempts of Fimbria. He himself alone first, near Lectum in Troas, in a
sea-fight, overcame the king's ships; and afterwards, discovering
Neoptolemus lying in wait for him near Tenedos, with a greater fleet,
he went aboard a Rhodian quinquereme galley, commended by Damagoras, a
man of great experience at sea, and friendly to the Romans, and sailed
before the rest. Neoptolemus made up furiously at him, and commanded
the master, with all imaginable might, to charge; but Damagoras,
fearing the bulk and massy stem of the admiral, thought it dangerous to
meet him prow to prow, and, rapidly wheeling round, bid his men back
water, and so received him astern; in which place, though violently
borne upon, he received no manner of harm, the blow being defeated by
falling on those parts of the ship which lay under water. By which
time, the rest of the fleet coming up to him, Lucullus gave order to
turn again, and vigorously falling, upon the enemy, put them to flight,
and pursued Neoptolemus. After this he came to Sylla, in Chersonesus,
as he was preparing to pass the strait, and brought timely assistance
for the safe transportation of the army.
Peace being presently made, Mithridates sailed off to the Euxine sea,
but Sylla taxed the inhabitants of Asia twenty thousand talents, and
ordered Lucullus to gather and coin the money. And it was no small
comfort to the cities under Sylla's severity, that a man of not only
incorrupt and just behavior, but also of moderation, should be employed
in so heavy and odious an office. The Mitylenaeans, who absolutely
revolted, he was willing should return to their duty, and submit to a
moderate penalty for the offense they had given in the case of Marius.
But, finding them bent upon their own destruction, he came up to them,
defeated them at sea, blocked them up in their city and besieged them;
then sailing off from them openly in the day to Elaea, he returned
privately, and posting an ambush near the city, lay quiet himself: And
on the Mitylenaeans coming out eagerly and in disorder to plunder the
deserted camp, he fell upon them, took many of them, and slew five
hundred, who stood upon their defense. He gained six thousand slaves,
and a very rich booty.
He was no way engaged in the great and general troubles of Italy which
Sylla and Marius created, a happy providence at that time detaining him
in Asia upon business. He was as much in Sylla's favor, however, as any
of his other friends; Sylla, as was said before, dedicated his Memoirs
to him as a token of kindness, and at his death, passing by Pompey,
made him guardian to his son; which seems, indeed, to have been the
rise of the quarrel and jealousy between them two being both young men,
and passionate for honor.
A little after Sylla's death, he was made consul with Marcus Cotta,
about the one hundred and seventy-sixth Olympiad. The Mithridatic war
being then under debate, Marcus declared that it was not finished, but
only respited for a time, and therefore, upon choice of provinces, the
lot falling to Lucullus to have Gaul within the Alps, a province where
no great action was to be done, he was ill-pleased. But chiefly, the
success of Pompey in Spain fretted him, as, with the renown he got
there, if the Spanish war were finished in time, he was likely to be
chosen general before anyone else against Mithridates. So that when
Pompey sent for money, and signified by letter that, unless it were
sent him, he would leave the country and Sertorius, and bring his
forces home to Italy, Lucullus most zealously supported his request, to
prevent any pretence of his returning home during his own consulship;
for all things would have been at his disposal, at the head of so great
an army. For Cethegus, the most influential popular leader at that
time, owing to his always both acting and speaking to please the
people, had, as it happened, a hatred to Lucullus, who had not
concealed his disgust at his debauched, insolent, and lawless life.
Lucullus, therefore, was at open warfare with him. And Lucius Quintius,
also, another demagogue, who was taking steps against Sylla's
constitution, and endeavoring to put things out of order, by private
exhortations and public admonitions he checked in his designs, and
repressed his ambition, wisely and safely remedying a great evil at the
very outset.
At this time news came that Octavius, the governor of Cilicia, was
dead, and many were eager for the place, courting Cethegus, as the man
best able to serve them. Lucullus set little value upon Cilicia itself,
no otherwise than as he thought, by his acceptance of it, no other man
besides himself might be employed in the war against Mithridates, by
reason of its nearness to Cappadocia. This made him strain every effort
that that province might be allotted to himself, and to none other;
which led him at last into an expedient not so honest or commendable,
as it was serviceable for compassing his design, submitting to
necessity against his own inclination. There was one Praecia, a
celebrated wit and beauty, but in other respects nothing better than an
ordinary harlot; who, however, to the charms of her person adding the
reputation of one that loved and served her friends, by making use of
those who visited her to assist their designs and promote their
interests, had thus gained great power. She had seduced Cethegus, the
first man at that time in reputation and authority of all the city, and
enticed him to her love, and so had made all authority follow her. For
nothing of moment was done in which Cethegus was not concerned, and
nothing by Cethegus without Praecia. This woman Lucullus gained to his
side by gifts and flattery, (and a great price it was in itself to so
stately and magnificent a dame, to be seen engaged in the same cause
with Lucullus,) and thus he presently found Cethegus his friend, using
his utmost interest to procure Cilicia for him; which when once
obtained, there was no more need of applying himself either to Praecia,
or Cethegus; for all unanimously voted him to the Mithridatic war, by
no hands likely to be so successfully managed as his. Pompey was still
contending with Sertorius, and Metellus by age unfit for service; which
two alone were the competitors who could prefer any claim with Lucullus
for that command. Cotta, his colleague, after much ado in the senate,
was sent away with a fleet to guard the Propontis, and defend Bithynia.
Lucullus carried with him a legion under his own orders, and crossed
over into Asia and took the command of the forces there, composed of
men who were all thoroughly disabled by dissoluteness and rapine, and
the Fimbrians, as they were called, utterly unmanageable by long want
of any sort of discipline. For these were they who under Fimbria had
slain Flaccus, the consul and general, and afterwards betrayed Fimbria
to Sylla; a willful and lawless set of men, but warlike, expert, and
hardy in the field. Lucullus in a short time took down the courage of
these, and disciplined the others, who then first, in all probability,
knew what a true commander and governor was; whereas in former times
they had been courted to service, and took up arms at nobody's command,
but their own wills.
The enemy's provisions for war stood thus; Mithridates, like the
Sophists, boastful and haughty at first, set upon the Romans, with a
very inefficient army, such, indeed, as made a good show, but was
nothing for use. But being shamefully routed, and taught a lesson for a
second engagement, he reduced his forces to a proper, serviceable
shape. Dispensing with the mixed multitudes, and the noisy menaces of
barbarous tribes of various languages, and with the ornaments of gold
and precious stones, a greater temptation to the victors than security
to the bearers, he gave his men broad swords like the Romans', and
massy shields; chose horses better for service than show, drew up an
hundred and twenty thousand foot in the figure of the Roman phalanx,
and had sixteen thousand horse, besides chariots armed with scythes, no
less than a hundred. Besides which, he set out a fleet not at all
cumbered with gilded cabins, luxurious baths and women's furniture, but
stored with weapons and darts, and other necessaries, and thus made a
descent upon Bithynia. Not only did these parts willingly receive him
again, but almost all Asia regarded him as their salvation from the
intolerable miseries which they were suffering from the Roman
money-lenders, and revenue farmers. These, afterwards, who like harpies
stole away their very nourishment, Lucullus drove away, and at this
time by reproving them, did what he could to make them more moderate,
and to prevent a general secession, then breaking out in all parts.
While Lucullus was detained in rectifying these matters, Cotta, finding
affairs ripe for action, prepared for battle with Mithridates; and news
coming from all hands that Lucullus had already entered Phrygia, on his
march against the enemy, he, thinking he had a triumph all but actually
in his hands, lest his colleague should share in the glory of it,
hasted to battle without him. But being routed, both by sea and land,
he lost sixty ships with their men, and four thousand foot, and himself
was forced into and besieged in Chalcedon, there waiting for relief
from Lucullus. There were those about Lucullus who would have had him
leave Cotta and go forward, in hope of surprising the defenseless
kingdom of Mithridates. And this was the feeling of the soldiers in
general, who wore indignant that Cotta should by his ill-counsel not
only lose his own army, but hinder them also from conquest, which at
that time, without the hazard of a battle, they might have obtained.
But Lucullus, in a public address, declared to them that he would
rather save one citizen from the enemy, than be master of all that they
had.
Archelaus, the former commander in Boeotia under Mithridates, who
afterwards deserted him and accompanied the Romans, protested to
Lucullus that, upon his mere coming, he would possess himself of all
Pontus. But he answered, that it did not become him to be more cowardly
than huntsmen, to leave the wild beasts abroad, and seek after sport in
their deserted dens. Having so said, he made towards Mithridates with
thirty thousand foot, and two thousand five hundred horse. But on being
come in sight of his enemies, he was astonished at their numbers, and
thought to forbear fighting, and wear out time. But Marius, whom
Sertorius had sent out of Spain to Mithridates with forces under him,
stepping out and challenging him, he prepared for battle. In the very
instant before joining battle, without any perceptible alteration
preceding, on a sudden the sky opened, and a large luminous body fell
down in the midst between the armies, in shape like a hogshead, but in
color like melted silver, insomuch that both armies in alarm withdrew.
This wonderful prodigy happened in Phrygia, near Otryae. Lucullus after
this began to think with himself that no human power and wealth could
suffice to sustain such great numbers as Mithridates had, for any long
time in the face of an enemy, and commanded one of the captives to be
brought before him, and first of all asked him, how many companions had
been quartered with him, and how much provision he had left behind him,
and when he had answered him, commanded him to stand aside; then asked
a second and a third the same question; after which, comparing the
quantity of provision with the men, he found that in three or four
days' time, his enemies would be brought to want. This all the more
determined him to trust to time, and he took measures to store his camp
with all sorts of provision, and thus living in plenty, trusted to
watch the necessities of his hungry enemy.
This made Mithridates set out against the Cyzicenians, miserably
shattered in the fight at Chalcedon, where they lost no less than three
thousand citizens and ten ships. And that he might the safer steal away
unobserved by Lucullus, immediately after supper, by the help of a dark
and wet night, he went off and by the morning gained the neighborhood
of the city, and sat down with his forces upon the Adrastean mount.
Lucullus, on finding him gone, pursued, but was well pleased not to
overtake him with his own forces in disorder; and he sat down near what
is called the Thracian village, an admirable position for commanding
all the roads and the places whence, and through which the provisions
for Mithridates's camp must of necessity come. And judging now of the
event, he no longer kept his mind from his soldiers, but when the camp
was fortified and their work finished, called them together, and with
great assurance told them that in a few days, without the expense of
blood, he would give them victory.
Mithridates besieged the Cyzicenians with ten camps by land, and with
his ships occupied the strait that was betwixt their city and the main
land, and so blocked them up on all sides; they, however, were fully
prepared stoutly to receive him, and resolved to endure the utmost
extremity, rather than forsake the Romans. That which troubled them
most was, that they knew not where Lucullus was, and heard nothing of
him, though at that time his army was visible before them. But they
were imposed upon by the Mithridatians, who, showing them the Romans
encamped on the hills, said, "Do ye see those? those are the auxiliary
Armenians and Medes, whom Tigranes has sent to Mithridates." They were
thus overwhelmed with thinking of the vast numbers round them, and
could not believe any way of relief was left them, even if Lucullus
should come up to their assistance. Demonax, a messenger sent in by
Archelaus, was the first who told them of Lucullus's arrival; but they
disbelieved his report, and thought he came with a story invented
merely to encourage them. At which time it happened that a boy, a
prisoner who had run away from the enemy, was brought before them; who,
being asked where Lucullus was, laughed at their jesting, as he
thought, but, finding them in earnest, with his finger pointed to the
Roman camp; upon which they took courage. The lake Dascylitis was
navigated with vessels of some little size; one, the biggest of them,
Lucullus drew ashore, and carrying her across in a wagon to the sea,
filled her with soldiers, who, sailing along unseen in the dead of the
night, came safe into the city.
The gods themselves, too, in admiration of the constancy of the
Cyzicenians, seem to have animated them with manifest signs, more
especially now in the festival of Proserpine, where a black heifer
being wanting for sacrifice, they supplied it by a figure made of
dough, which they set before the altar. But the holy heifer set apart
for the goddess, and at that time grazing with the other herds of the
Cyzicenians on the other side of the strait, left the herd and swam
over to the city alone, and offered herself for sacrifice. By night,
also, the goddess appearing to Aristagoras, the town clerk, "I am
come," said she, "and have brought the Libyan piper against the Pontic
trumpeter; bid the citizens, therefore, be of good courage." While the
Cyzicenians were wondering what the words could mean, a sudden wind
sprung up and caused a considerable motion on the sea. The king's
battering engines, the wonderful contrivance of Niconides of Thessaly,
then under the walls, by their cracking and rattling, soon demonstrated
what would follow; after which an extraordinarily tempestuous south
wind succeeding shattered in a short space of time all the rest of the
works, and by a violent concussion, threw down the wooden tower a
hundred cubits high. It is said that in Ilium Minerva appeared to many
that night in their sleep, with the sweat running down her person, and
showed them her robe torn in one place, telling them that she had just
arrived from relieving the Cyzicenians; and the inhabitants to this day
show a monument with an inscription, including a public decree,
referring to the fact.
Mithridates, through the knavery of his officers, not knowing for some
time the want of provision in his camp, was troubled in mind that the
Cyzicenians should hold out against him. But his ambition and anger
fell, when he saw his soldiers in the extremity of want, and feeding on
man's flesh; as, in truth, Lucullus was not carrying on the war as mere
matter of show and stage-play, but according to the proverb, made the
seat of war in the belly, and did everything to cut off their supplies
of food. Mithridates, therefore, took advantage of the time, while
Lucullus was storming a fort, and sent away almost all his horse to
Bithynia, with the sumpter cattle, and as many of the foot as were
unfit for service. On intelligence of which, Lucullus, while it was yet
night, came to his camp, and in the morning, though it was stormy
weather, took with him ten cohorts of foot, and the horse, and pursued
them under falling snow and in cold so severe that many of his soldiers
were unable to proceed; and with the rest coming upon the enemy, near
the river Rhyndacus, he overthrew them with so great a slaughter, that
the very women of Apollonia came out to seize on the booty and strip
the slain. Great numbers, as we may suppose, were slain; six thousand
horses were taken, with an infinite number of beasts of burden, and no
less than fifteen thousand men. All which he led along by the enemy's
camp. I cannot but wonder on this occasion at Sallust, who says that
this was the first time camels were seen by the Romans, as if he
thought those who, long before, under Scipio, defeated Antiochus, or
those who lately had fought against Archelaus near Orchomenus and
Chaeronea, had not known what a camel was. Mithridates, himself fully
determined upon flight, as mere delays and diversions for Lucullus,
sent his admiral Aristonicus to the Greek sea; who, however, was
betrayed in the very instant of going off, and Lucullus became master
of him, and ten thousand pieces of gold which he was carrying with him
to corrupt some of the Roman army. After which, Mithridates himself
made for the sea, leaving the foot officers to conduct the army, upon
whom Lucullus fell, near the river Granicus, where he took a vast
number alive, and slew twenty thousand. It is reported that the total
number killed, of fighting men and of others who followed the camp,
amounted to something not far short of three hundred thousand.
Lucullus first went to Cyzicus, where he was received with all the joy
and gratitude suiting the occasion, and then collected a navy, visiting
the shores of the Hellespont. And arriving at Troas, he lodged in the
temple of Venus, where, in the night, he thought he saw the goddess
coming to him, and saying,
Sleep'st thou, great lion, when the fawns are nigh?
Rising up hereupon, he called his friends to him, it being yet night,
and told them his vision; at which instant some Ilians came up and
acquainted him that thirteen of the king's quinqueremes were seen off
the Achaean harbor, sailing for Lemnos. He at once put to sea, took
these, and slew their admiral Isidorus. And then he made after another
squadron, who were just come into port, and were hauling their vessels
ashore, but fought from the decks, and sorely galled Lucullus's men;
there being neither room to sail round them, nor to bear upon them for
any damage, his ships being afloat, while theirs stood secure and fixed
on the sand. After much ado, at the only landing-place of the island,
he disembarked the choicest of his men, who, falling upon the enemy
behind, killed some, and forced others to cut their cables, and thus
making from the shore, they fell foul upon one another, or came within
the reach of Lucullus's fleet. Many were killed in the action. Among
the captives was Marius, the commander sent by Sertorius, who had but
one eye. And it was Lucullus's strict command to his men before the
engagement, that they should kill no man who had but one eye, that he
might rather die under disgrace and reproach.
This being over, he hastened his pursuit after Mithridates, whom he
hoped to find still in Bithynia, intercepted by Voconius, whom he sent
out before to Nicomedia with part of the fleet, to stop his flight. But
Voconius, loitering in Samothrace to get initiated and celebrate a
feast, let slip his opportunity, Mithridates being passed by with all
his fleet. He, hastening into Pontus before Lucullus should come up to
him, was caught in a storm, which dispersed his fleet and sunk several
ships. The wreck floated on all the neighboring shore for many days
after. The merchant ship, in which he himself was, could not well in
that heavy swell be brought ashore by the masters for its bigness, and
it being heavy with water and ready to sink, he left it and went aboard
a pirate vessel, delivering himself into the hands of pirates, and thus
unexpectedly and wonderfully came safe to Heraclea, in Pontus.
Thus the proud language Lucullus had used to the senate, ended without
any mischance. For they having decreed him three thousand talents to
furnish out a navy, he himself was against it, and sent them word that
without any such great and costly supplies, by the confederate shipping
alone, he did not in the least doubt but to rout Mithridates from the
sea. And so he did, by divine assistance, for it is said that the wrath
of Diana of Priapus brought the great tempest upon the men of Pontus,
because they had robbed her temple, and removed her image.
Many were persuading Lucullus to defer the war, but he rejected their
counsel, and marched through Bithynia and Galatia into the king's
country, in such great scarcity of provision at first, that thirty
thousand Galatians followed, every man carrying a bushel of wheat at
his back. But subduing all in his progress before him, he at last found
himself in such great plenty, that an ox was sold in the camp for a
single drachma, and a slave for four. The other booty they made no
account of, but left it behind or destroyed it; there being no
disposing of it, where all had such abundance. But when they had made
frequent incursions with their cavalry, and had advanced as far
Themiscyra, and the plains of the Thermodon, merely laying waste the
country before them, they began to find fault with Lucullus, asking
"why he took so many towns by surrender, and never one by storm, which
might enrich them with the plunder? and now, forsooth, leaving Amisus
behind, a rich and wealthy city, of easy conquest, if closely besieged,
he will carry us into the Tibarenian and Chaldean wilderness, to fight
with Mithridates." Lucullus, little thinking this would be of such
dangerous consequence as it afterwards proved, took no notice and
slighted it; and was rather anxious to excuse himself to those who
blamed his tardiness, in losing time about small pitiful places not
worth the while, and allowing Mithridates opportunity to recruit. "That
is what I design," said he, "and sit here contriving by my delay, that
he may grow great again, and gather a considerable army, which may
induce him to stand, and not fly away before us. For do you not see the
wide and unknown wilderness behind? Caucasus is not far off, and a
multitude of vast mountains, enough to conceal ten thousand kings that
wished to avoid a battle. Besides this, a journey but of few days leads
from Cabira to Armenia, where Tigranes reigns, king of kings, and holds
in his hands a power that has enabled him to keep the Parthians in
narrow bounds, to remove Greek cities bodily into Media, to conquer
Syria and Palestine, to put to death the kings of the royal line of
Seleucus, and carry away their wives and daughters by violence. This
same is relation and son-in-law to Mithridates, and cannot but receive
him upon entreaty, and enter into war with us to defend him; so that,
while we endeavor to depose Mithridates, we shall endanger the bringing
in of Tigranes against us, who already has sought occasion to fall out
with us, but can never find one so justifiable as the succor of a
friend and prince in his necessity. Why, therefore, should we put
Mithridates upon this resource, who as yet does not see now he may best
fight with us, and disdains to stoop to Tigranes; and not rather allow
him time to gather a new army and grow confident again, that we may
thus fight with Colchians, and Tibarenians, whom we have often defeated
already, and not with Medes and Armenians."
Upon these motives, Lucullus sat down before Amisus, and slowly carried
on the siege. But the winter being well spent, he left Murena in charge
of it, and went himself against Mithridates, then rendezvousing at
Cabira, and resolving to await the Romans, with forty thousand foot
about him, and fourteen thousand horse, on whom he chiefly confided.
Passing the river Lycus, he challenged the Romans into the plains,
where the cavalry engaged, and the Romans were beaten. Pomponius, a man
of some note, was taken wounded; and sore, and in pain as he was, was
carried before Mithridates, and asked by the king, if he would become
his friend, if he saved his life. He answered, "yes, if you become
reconciled to the Romans; if not, your enemy." Mithridates wondered at
him, and did him no hurt. The enemy being with their cavalry master of
the plains, Lucullus was something afraid, and hesitated to enter the
mountains, being very large, woody, and almost inaccessible, when, by
good luck, some Greeks who had fled into a cave were taken, the eldest
of whom, Artemidorus by name, promised to bring Lucullus, and seat him
in a place of safety for his army, where there was a fort that
overlooked Cabira. Lucullus, believing him, lighted his fires, and
marched in the night; and safely passing the defile, gained the place,
and in the morning was seen above the enemy, pitching his camp in a
place advantageous to descend upon them if he desired to fight, and
secure from being forced, if he preferred to lie still. Neither side
was willing to engage at present. But it is related that some of the
king's party were hunting a stag, and some Romans wanting to cut them
off, came out and met them. Whereupon they skirmished, more still
drawing together to each side, and at last the king's party prevailed,
on which the Romans, from their camp seeing their companions fly, were
enraged, and ran to Lucullus with entreaties to lead them out,
demanding that the sign might be given for battle. But he, that they
might know of what consequence the presence and appearance of a wise
commander is in time of conflict and danger, ordered them to stand
still. But he went down himself into the plains, and meeting with the
foremost that fled, commanded them to stand and turn back with him.
These obeying, the rest also turned and formed again in a body, and
thus, with no great difficulty, drove back the enemies, and pursued
them to their camp. After his return, Lucullus inflicted the customary
punishment upon the fugitives, and made them dig a trench of twelve
foot, working in their frocks unfastened, while the rest stood by and
looked on.
There was in Mithridates's camp, one Olthacus a chief of the
Dandarians, a barbarous people living near the lake Maeotis, a man
remarkable for strength and courage in fight, wise in council, and
pleasant and ingratiating in conversation. He, out of emulation, and a
constant eagerness which possessed him to outdo one of the other chiefs
of his country, promised a great piece of service to Mithridates, no
less than the death of Lucullus. The king commended his resolution,
and, according to agreement, counterfeited anger, and put some disgrace
upon him; whereupon he took horse, and fled to Lucullus, who kindly
received him, being a man of great name in the army. After some short
trial of his sagacity and perseverance, he found way to Lucullus's
board and council. The Dandarian, thinking he had a fair opportunity,
commanded his servants to lead his horse out of the camp, while he
himself, as the soldiers were refreshing and resting themselves, it
being then high noon, went to the general's tent, not at all expecting
that entrance would be denied to one who was so familiar with him, and
came under pretence of extraordinary business with him. He had
certainly been admitted, had not sleep, which has destroyed many
captains, saved Lucullus. For so it was, and Menedemus, one of the
bedchamber, was standing at the door, who told Olthacus that it was
altogether unseasonable to see the general, since, after long watching
and hard labor, he was but just before laid down to repose himself.
Olthacus would not go away upon this denial, but still persisted,
saying that he must go in to speak of some necessary affairs, whereupon
Menedemus grew angry, and replied that nothing was more necessary than
the safety of Lucullus, and forced him away with both hands. Upon
which, out of fear, he straightaway left the camp, took horse, and
without effect returned to Mithridates. Thus in action as in physic, it
is the critical moment that gives both the fortunate and the fatal
effect.
After this, Sornatius being sent out with ten companies for forage, and
pursued by Menander, one of Mithridates's captains, stood his ground,
and after a sharp engagement, routed and slew a considerable number of
the enemy. Adrianus being sent afterward, with some forces, to procure
food enough and to spare for the camp, Mithridates did not let the
opportunity slip, but dispatched Menemachus and Myro, with a great
force, both horse and foot, against him, all which except two men, it
is stated, were cut off by the Romans. Mithridates concealed the loss,
giving it out that it was a small defeat, nothing near so great as
reported, and occasioned by the unskillfulness of the leaders. But
Adrianus in great pomp passed by his camp, having many wagons full of
corn and other booty, filling Mithridates with distress, and the army
with confusion and consternation. It was resolved, therefore, to stay
no longer. But when the king's servants sent away their own goods
quietly, and hindered others from doing so too, the soldiers in great
fury thronged and crowded to the gates, seized on the king's servants
and killed them, and plundered the baggage. Dorylaus, the general, in
this confusion, having nothing else besides his purple cloak, lost his
life for that, and Hermaeus, the priest, was trod underfoot in the gate.
Mithridates, having not one of his guards, nor even a groom remaining
with him, got out of the camp in the throng, but had none of his horses
with him; until Ptolemy, the eunuch, some little time after, seeing him
in the press making his way among the others, dismounted and gave his
horse to the king. The Romans were already close upon him in their
pursuit, nor was it through want of speed that they failed to catch
him, but they were as near as possible doing so. But greediness and a
petty military avarice hindered them from acquiring that booty, which
in so many fights and hazards they had sought after, and lost Lucullus
the prize of his victory. For the horse which carried the king was
within reach, but one of the mules that carried the treasure either by
accident stepping in, or by order of the king so appointed to go
between him and the pursuers, they seized and pilfered the gold, and
falling out among themselves about the prey, let slip the great prize.
Neither was their greediness prejudicial to Lucullus in this only, but
also they slew Callistratus, the king's confidential attendant, under
suspicion of having five hundred pieces of gold in his girdle; whereas
Lucullus had specially ordered that he should be conveyed safe into the
camp. Notwithstanding all which, he gave them leave to plunder the camp.
After this, in Cabira, and other strong-holds which he took, he found
great treasures, and private prisons, in which many Greeks and many of
the king's relations had been confined, who, having long since counted
themselves no other than dead men, by the favor of Lucullus, met not
with relief so truly as with a new life and second birth. Nyssa, also,
sister of Mithridates, enjoyed the like fortunate captivity; while
those who seemed to be most out of danger, his wives and sisters at
Phernacia, placed in safety, as they thought, miserably perished,
Mithridates in his flight sending Bacchides the eunuch to them. Among
others there were two sisters of the king, Roxana and Statira,
unmarried women forty years old, and two Ionian wives, Berenice of
Chios, and Monime of Miletus. This latter was the most celebrated among
the Greeks, because she so long withstood the king in his courtship to
her, though he presented her with fifteen thousand pieces of gold,
until a covenant of marriage was made, and a crown was sent her, and
she was saluted queen. She had been a sorrowful woman before, and often
bewailed her beauty, that had procured her a keeper, instead of a
husband, and a watch of barbarians, instead of the home and attendance
of a wife; and, removed far from Greece, she enjoyed the pleasure which
she proposed to herself, only in a dream, being in the meantime robbed
of that which is real. And when Bacchides came and bade them prepare
for death, as everyone thought most easy and painless, she took the
diadem from her head, and fastening the string to her neck, suspended
herself with it; which soon breaking, "O wretched headband!" said she,
"not able to help me even in this small thing!" And throwing it away
she spat on it, and offered her throat to Bacchides. Berenice had
prepared a potion for herself, but at her mother's entreaty, who stood
by, she gave her part of it. Both drank of the potion, which prevailed
over the weaker body. But Berenice, having drunk too little, was not
released by it, but lingering on unable to die, was strangled by
Bacchides for haste. It is said that one of the unmarried sisters drank
the poison, with bitter execrations and curses; but Statira uttered
nothing ungentle or reproachful, but, on the contrary, commended her
brother, who in his own danger neglected not theirs, but carefully
provided that they might go out of the world without shame or disgrace.
Lucullus, being a good and humane man, was concerned at these things.
However, going on he came to Talaura, from whence four days before his
arrival Mithridates had fled, and was got to Tigranes in Armenia. He
turned off, therefore, and subdued the Chaldeans and Tibarenians, with
the lesser Armenia, and having reduced all their forts and cities, he
sent Appius to Tigranes to demand Mithridates. He himself went to
Amisus, which still held out under the command of Callimachus, who, by
his great engineering skill, and his dexterity at all the shifts and
subtleties of a siege, had greatly incommoded the Romans. For which
afterward he paid dear enough, and was now out-maneuvered by Lucullus,
who, unexpectedly coming upon him at the time of the day when the
soldiers used to withdraw and rest themselves, gained part of the wall,
and forced him to leave the city, in doing which he fired it; either
envying the Romans the booty, or to secure his own escape the better.
No man looked after those who went off in the ships, but as soon as the
fire had seized on most part of the wall, the soldiers prepared
themselves for plunder; while Lucullus, pitying the ruin of the city,
brought assistance from without, and encouraged his men to extinguish
the flames. But all, being intent upon the prey, and giving no heed to
him, with loud outcries beat and clashed their arms together, until he
was compelled to let them plunder, that by that means he might at least
save the city from fire. But they did quite the contrary, for in
searching the houses with lights and torches everywhere, they were
themselves the cause of the destruction of most of the buildings,
insomuch that when Lucullus the next day went in, he shed tears, and
said to his friends, that he had often before blessed the fortune of
Sylla but never so much admired it as then, because when he was
willing, he was also able to save Athens, "but my infelicity is such,
that while I endeavor to imitate him, I become like Mummius."
Nevertheless, he endeavored to save as much of the city as he could,
and at the same time, also, by a happy providence, a fall of rain
concurred to extinguish the fire. He himself while present repaired the
ruins as much as he could, receiving back the inhabitants who had fled,
and settling as many other Greeks as were willing to live there, adding
a hundred and twenty furlongs of ground to the place.
This city was a colony of Athens, built at that time when she
flourished and was powerful at sea, upon which account many who fled
from Aristion's tyranny settled here, and were admitted as citizens,
but had the ill-luck to fly from evils at home, into greater abroad. As
many of these as survived, Lucullus furnished every one with clothes,
and two hundred drachmas, and sent them away into their own country. On
this occasion, Tyrannion the grammarian was taken. Murena begged him of
Lucullus, and took him and made him a freedman; but in this he abused
Lucullus's favor, who by no means liked that a man of high repute for
learning should be first made a slave, and then freed; for freedom thus
speciously granted again, was a real deprivation of what he had before.
But not in this case alone Murena showed himself far inferior in
generosity to the general. Lucullus was now busy in looking after the
cities of Asia, and having no war to divert his time, spent it in the
administration of law and justice, the want of which had for a long
time left the province a prey to unspeakable and incredible miseries;
so plundered and enslaved by tax-farmers and usurers, that private
people were compelled to sell their sons in the flower of their youth,
and their daughters in their virginity, and the States publicly to sell
their consecrated gifts, pictures, and statues. In the end their lot
was to yield themselves up slaves to their creditors, but before this,
worse troubles befell them, tortures, inflicted with ropes and by
horses, standing abroad to be scorched when the sun was hot, and being
driven into ice and clay in the cold; insomuch that slavery was no less
than a redemption and joy to them. Lucullus in a short time freed the
cities from all these evils and oppressions; for, first of all, he
ordered there should be no more taken than one percent. Secondly, where
the interest exceeded the principal, he struck it off. The third, and
most considerable order was, that the creditor should receive the
fourth part of the debtor's income; but if any lender had added the
interest to the principal, it was utterly disallowed. Insomuch, that in
the space of four years all debts were paid, and lands returned to
their right owners. The public debt was contracted when Asia was fined
twenty thousand talents by Sylla, but twice as much was paid to the
collectors, who by their usury had by this time advanced it to a
hundred and twenty thousand talents. And accordingly they inveighed
against Lucullus at Rome, as grossly injured by him, and by their
money's help, (as, indeed, they were very powerful, and had many of the
statesmen in their debt,) they stirred up several leading men against
him. But Lucullus was not only beloved by the cities which he obliged,
but was also wished for by other provinces, who blessed the good-luck
of those who had such a governor over them.
Appius Clodius, who was sent to Tigranes, (the same Clodius was brother
to Lucullus's wife,) being led by the king's guides, a roundabout way,
unnecessarily long and tedious, through the upper country, being
informed by his freedman, a Syrian by nation, of the direct road, left
that lengthy and fallacious one; and bidding the barbarians, his
guides, adieu, in a few days passed over Euphrates, and came to Antioch
upon Daphne. There being commanded to wait for Tigranes, who at that
time was reducing some towns in Phoenicia, he won over many chiefs to
his side, who unwillingly submitted to the king of Armenia, among whom
was Zarbienus, king of the Gordyenians; also many of the conquered
cities corresponded privately with him, whom he assured of relief from
Lucullus, but ordered them to lie still at present. The Armenian
government was an oppressive one, and intolerable to the Greeks,
especially that of the present king, who, growing insolent and
overbearing with his success, imagined all things valuable and esteemed
among men not only were his in fact, but had been purposely created for
him alone. From a small and inconsiderable beginning, he had gone on to
be the conqueror of many nations, had humbled the Parthian power more
than any before him, and filled Mesopotamia with Greeks, whom he
carried in numbers out of Cilicia and Cappadocia. He transplanted also
the Arabs, who lived in tents, from their country and home, and settled
them near him, that by their means he might carry on the trade.
He had many kings waiting on him, but four he always carried with him
as servants and guards, who, when he rode, ran by his horse's side in
ordinary under-frocks, and attended him, when sitting on his throne,
and publishing his decrees to the people, with their hands folded
together; which posture of all others was that which most expressed
slavery, it being that of men who had bidden adieu to liberty, and had
prepared their bodies more for chastisement, than the service of their
masters. Appius, nothing dismayed or surprised at this theatrical
display, as soon as audience was granted him, said he came to demand
Mithridates for Lucullus's triumph, otherwise to denounce war against
Tigranes, insomuch that though Tigranes endeavored to receive him with
a smooth countenance and a forced smile, he could not dissemble his
discomposure to those who stood about him, at the bold language of the
young man; for it was the first time, perhaps, in twenty-five years,
the length of his reign, or, more truly, of his tyranny, that any free
speech had been uttered to him. However, he made answer to Appius, that
he would not desert Mithridates, and would defend himself, if the
Romans attacked him. He was angry, also, with Lucullus for calling him
only king in his letter, and not king of kings, and, in his answer,
would not give him his title of imperator. Great gifts were sent to
Appius, which he refused; but on their being sent again and augmented,
that he might not seem to refuse in anger, he took one goblet and sent
the rest back, and without delay went off to the general.
Tigranes before this neither vouchsafed to see nor speak with
Mithridates, though a near kinsman, and forced out of so considerable a
kingdom, but proudly and scornfully kept him at a distance, as a sort
of prisoner, in a marshy and unhealthy district; but now, with much
profession of respect and kindness, he sent for him, and at a private
conference between them in the palace, they healed up all private
jealousies between them, punishing their favorites, who bore all the
blame; among whom Metrodorus of Scepsis was one, an eloquent and
learned man, and so close an intimate as commonly to be called the
king's father. This man, as it happened, being employed in an embassy
by Mithridates to solicit help against the Romans, Tigranes asked him,
"what would you, Metrodorus, advise me to in this affair?" In return to
which, either out of good-will to Tigranes, or a want of solicitude for
Mithridates, he made answer, that as ambassador he counseled him to it,
but as a friend dissuaded him from it. This Tigranes reported, and
affirmed to Mithridates, thinking that no irreparable harm would come
of it to Metrodorus. But upon this he was presently taken off, and
Tigranes was sorry for what he had done, though he had not, indeed,
been absolutely the cause of his death; yet he had given the fatal turn
to the anger of Mithridates, who had privately hated him before, as
appeared from his cabinet papers when taken, among which there was an
order that Metrodorus should die. Tigranes buried him splendidly,
sparing no cost to his dead body, whom he betrayed when alive. In
Tigranes's court died, also, Amphicrates the orator, (if, for the sake
of Athens, we may also mention him,) of whom it is told that he left
his country and fled to Seleucia, upon the river Tigris, and, being
desired to teach logic among them, arrogantly replied, that the dish
was too little to hold a dolphin. He, therefore, came to Cleopatra,
daughter of Mithridates, and queen to Tigranes, but being accused of
misdemeanors, and prohibited all commerce with his countrymen, ended
his days by starving himself. He, in like manner, received from
Cleopatra an honorable burial, near Sapha, a place so called in that
country.
Lucullus, when he had reestablished law and a lasting peace in Asia,
did not altogether forget pleasure and mirth, but, during his residence
at Ephesus, gratified the cities with sports, festival triumphs,
wrestling games and single combats of gladiators. And they, in
requital, instituted others, called Lucullean games, in honor to him,
thus manifesting their love to him, which was of more value to him than
all the honor. But when Appius came to him, and told him he must
prepare for war with Tigranes, he went again into Pontus, and,
gathering together his army, besieged Sinope, or rather the Cilicians
of the king's side who held it; who thereupon killed a number of the
Sinopians, and set the city on fire, and by night endeavored to escape.
Which when Lucullus perceived, he entered the city, and killed eight
thousand of them who were still left behind; but restored to the
inhabitants what was their own, and took special care for the welfare
of the city. To which he was chiefly prompted by this vision. One
seemed to come to him in his sleep, and say, "Go on a little further,
Lucullus, for Autolycus is coming to see thee." When he arose, he could
not imagine what the vision meant. The same day he took the city, and
as he was pursuing the Cilicians, who were flying by sea, he saw a
statue lying on the shore, which the Cilicians carried so far, but had
not time to carry aboard. It was one of the masterpieces of Sthenis.
And one told him, that it was the statue of Autolycus, the founder of
the city. This Autolycus is reported to have been son to Deimachus, and
one of those who, under Hercules, went on the expedition out of
Thessaly against the Amazons; from whence in his return with Demoleon
and Phlogius, he lost his vessel on a point of the Chersonesus, called
Pedalium. He himself, with his companions and their weapons, being
saved, came to Sinope, and dispossessed the Syrians there. The Syrians
held it, descended from Syrus, as is the story, the son of Apollo, and
Sinope the daughter of Asopus. Which as soon as Lucullus heard, he
remembered the admonition of Sylla, whose advice it is in his Memoirs,
to treat nothing as so certain and so worthy of reliance as an
intimation given in dreams.
When it was now told him that Mithridates and Tigranes were just ready
to transport their forces into Lycaonia and Cilicia, with the object of
entering Asia before him, he wondered much why the Armenian, supposing
him to entertain any real intention to fight with the Romans, did not
assist Mithridates in his flourishing condition, and join forces when
he was fit for service, instead of suffering him to be vanquished and
broken in pieces, and now at last beginning the war, when his hopes
were grown cold, and throwing himself down headlong with them, who were
irrecoverably fallen already. But when Machares, the son of
Mithridates, and governor of Bosporus, sent him a crown valued at a
thousand pieces of gold, and desired to be enrolled as a friend and
confederate of the Romans, he fairly reputed that war at an end, and
left Sornatius, his deputy, with six thousand soldiers, to take care of
Pontus. He himself with twelve thousand foot, and a little less than
three thousand horse, went forth to the second war, advancing, it
seemed very plain, with too great and ill-advised speed, into the midst
of warlike nations, and many thousands upon thousands of horse, into an
unknown extent of country, every way enclosed with deep rivers and
mountains, never free from snow; which made the soldiers, already far
from orderly, follow him with great unwillingness and opposition. For
the same reason, also, the popular leaders at home publicly inveighed
and declaimed against him, as one that raised up war after war, not so
much for the interest of the republic, as that he himself, being still
in commission, might not lay down arms, but go on enriching himself by
the public dangers. These men, in the end, effected their purpose. But
Lucullus by long journeys came to the Euphrates, where, finding the
waters high and rough from the winter, he was much troubled for fear of
delay and difficulty while he should procure boats and make a bridge of
them. But in the evening the flood beginning to retire, and decreasing
all through the night, the next day they saw the river far down within
his banks, so much so that the inhabitants, discovering the little
islands in the river, and the water stagnating among them, a thing
which had rarely happened before, made obeisance to Lucullus, before
whom the very river was humble and submissive, and yielded an easy and
swift passage. Making use of the opportunity, he carried over his army,
and met with a lucky sign at landing. Holy heifers are pastured on
purpose for Diana Persia, whom, of all the gods, the barbarians beyond
Euphrates chiefly adore. They use these heifers only for her
sacrifices. At other times they wander up and down undisturbed, with
the mark of the goddess, a torch, branded on them; and it is no such
light or easy thing, when occasion requires, to seize one of them. But
one of these, when the army had passed the Euphrates, coming to a rock
consecrated to the goddess, stood upon it, and then laying down her
neck, like others that are forced down with a rope, offered herself to
Lucullus for sacrifice. Besides which, he offered also a bull to
Euphrates, for his safe passage. That day he tarried there, but on the
next, and those that followed, he traveled through Sophene, using no
manner of violence to the people who came to him and willingly received
his army. And when the soldiers were desirous to plunder a castle that
seemed to be well stored within, "That is the castle," said he, "that
we must storm," showing them Taurus, at a distance; "the rest is
reserved for those who conquer there." Wherefore hastening his march,
and passing the Tigris, he came over into Armenia
The first messenger that gave notice of Lucullus's coming was so far
from pleasing Tigranes, that he had his head cut off for his pains; and
no man daring to bring further information, without any intelligence at
all, Tigranes sat while war was already blazing around him, giving ear
only to those who flattered him, by saying that Lucullus would show
himself a great commander, if he ventured to wait for Tigranes at
Ephesus, and did not at once fly out of Asia, at the mere sight of the
many thousands that were come against him. He is a man of a strong body
that can carry off a great quantity of wine, and of a powerful
constitution of mind that can sustain felicity. Mithrobarzanes, one of
his chief favorites, first dared to tell him the truth, but had no more
thanks for his freedom of speech, than to be immediately sent out
against Lucullus with three thousand horse, and a great number of foot,
with peremptory commands to bring him alive, and trample down his army.
Some of Lucullus's men were then pitching their camp, and the rest were
coming up to them, when the scouts gave notice that the enemy was
approaching, whereupon he was in fear lest they should fall upon him,
while his men were divided and unarranged; which made him stay to pitch
the camp himself, and send out Sextilius, the legate, with sixteen
hundred horse, and about as many heavy and light arms, with orders to
advance towards the enemy, and wait until intelligence came to him that
the camp was finished. Sextilius designed to have kept this order; but
Mithrobarzanes coming furiously upon him, he was forced to fight. In
the engagement, Mithrobarzanes himself was slain, fighting, and all his
men, except a few who ran away, were destroyed. After this Tigranes
left Tigranocerta, a great city built by himself, and retired to
Taurus, and called all his forces about him.
But Lucullus, giving him no time to rendezvous, sent out Murena to
harass and cut off those who marched to Tigranes, and Sextilius, also,
to disperse a great company of Arabians then on the way to the king.
Sextilius fell upon the Arabians in their camp, and destroyed most of
them, and also Murena, in his pursuit after Tigranes through a craggy
and narrow pass, opportunely fell upon him. Upon which Tigranes,
abandoning all his baggage, fled; many of the Armenians were killed,
and more taken. After this success, Lucullus went to Tigranocerta, and
sitting down before the city, besieged it. In it were many Greeks
carried away out of Cilicia, and many barbarians in like circumstances
with the Greeks, Adiabenians, Assyrians, Gordyenians, and Cappadocians,
whose native cities he had destroyed, and forced away the inhabitants
to settle here. It was a rich and beautiful city; every common man, and
every man of rank, in imitation of the king, studied to enlarge and
adorn it. This made Lucullus more vigorously press the siege, in the
belief that Tigranes would not patiently endure it, but even against
his own judgment would come down in anger to force him away; in which
he was not mistaken. Mithridates earnestly dissuaded him from it,
sending messengers and letters to him not to engage, but rather with
his horse to try and cut off the supplies. Taxiles, also, who came from
Mithridates, and who stayed with his army, very much entreated the king
to forbear, and to avoid the Roman arms, things it was not safe to
meddle with. To this he hearkened at first, but when the Armenians and
Gordyenians in a full body, and the whole forces of Medes and
Adiabenians, under their respective kings, joined him; when many
Arabians came up from the sea beyond Babylon; and from the Caspian sea,
the Albanians and the Iberians their neighbors, and not a few of the
free people, without kings, living about the Araxes, by entreaty and
hire also came together to him; and all the king's feasts and councils
rang of nothing but expectations, boastings, and barbaric threatenings,
Taxiles went in danger of his life, for giving counsel against
fighting, and it was imputed to envy in Mithridates thus to discourage
him from so glorious an enterprise. Therefore Tigranes would by no
means tarry for him, for fear he should share in the glory, but marched
on with all his army, lamenting to his friends, as it is said, that he
should fight with Lucullus alone, and not with all the Roman generals
together. Neither was his boldness to be accounted wholly frantic or
unreasonable, when he had so many nations and kings attending him, and
so many tens of thousands of well-armed foot and horse about him. He
had twenty thousand archers and slingers, fifty-five thousand horse, of
which seventeen thousand were in complete armor, as Lucullus wrote to
the senate, a hundred and fifty thousand heavy-armed men, drawn up
partly into cohorts, partly into phalanxes, besides various divisions
of men appointed to make roads and lay bridges, to drain off waters and
cut wood, and to perform other necessary services, to the number of
thirty-five thousand, who, being quartered behind the army, added to
its strength, and made it the more formidable to behold.
As soon as he had passed Taurus, and appeared with his forces, and saw
the Romans beleaguering Tigranocerta, the barbarous people within with
shoutings and acclamations received the sight, and threatening the
Romans from the wall, pointed to the Armenians. In a council of war,
some advised Lucullus to leave the siege, and march up to Tigranes,
others that it would not be safe to leave the siege, and so many
enemies behind. He answered that neither side by itself was right, but
together both gave sound advice; and accordingly he divided his army,
and left Murena with six thousand foot in charge of the siege, and
himself went out with twenty-four cohorts, in which were no more than
ten thousand men at arms, and with all the horse, and about a thousand
slingers and archers; and sitting down by the river in a large plain,
he appeared, indeed, very inconsiderable to Tigranes, and a fit subject
for the flattering wits about him. Some of whom jeered, others cast
lots for the spoil, and every one of the kings and commanders came and
desired to undertake the engagement alone, and that he would be pleased
to sit still and behold. Tigranes himself, wishing to be witty and
pleasant upon the occasion, made use of the well-known saying, that
they were too many for ambassadors, and too few for soldiers. Thus they
continued sneering and scoffing. As soon as day came, Lucullus brought
out his forces under arms. The barbarian army stood on the eastern side
of the river, and there being a bend of the river westward in that part
of it, where it was easiest forded, Lucullus, while he led his army on
in haste, seemed to Tigranes to be flying; who thereupon called
Taxiles, and in derision said, "Do you not see these invincible Romans
flying?" But Taxiles replied, "Would, indeed, O king, that some such
unlikely piece of fortune might be destined you; but the Romans do not,
when going on a march, put on their best clothes, nor use bright
shields, and naked headpieces, as now you see them, with the leathern
coverings all taken off, but this is a preparation for war of men just
ready to engage with their enemies." While Taxiles was thus speaking,
as Lucullus wheeled about, the first eagle appeared, and the cohorts,
according to their divisions and companies, formed in order to pass
over, when with much ado, and like a man that is just recovering from a
drunken fit, Tigranes cried out twice or thrice, "What, are they upon
us?" In great confusion, therefore, the army got in array, the king
keeping the main body to himself, while the left wing was given in
charge to the Adiabenian, and the right to the Mede, in the front of
which latter were posted most of the heavy-armed cavalry. Some officers
advised Lucullus, just as he was going to cross the river, to lie
still, that day being one of the unfortunate ones which they call black
days, for on it the army under Caepio, engaging with the Cimbrians, was
destroyed. But he returned the famous answer, "I will make it a happy
day to the Romans." It was the day before the nones of October.
Having so said, he bade them take courage, passed over the river, and
himself first of all led them against the enemy, clad in a coat of
mail, with shining steel scales and a fringed mantle; and his sword
might already be seen out of the scabbard, as if to signify that they
must without delay come to a hand-to-hand combat with an enemy whose
skill was in distant fighting, and by the speed of their advance
curtail the space that exposed them to the archery. But when he saw the
heavy-armed horse, the flower of the army, drawn up under a hill, on
the top of which was a broad and open plain about four furlongs
distant, and of no very difficult or troublesome access, he commanded
his Thracian and Galatian horse to fall upon their flank, and beat down
their lances with their swords. The only defense of these
horsemen-at-arms are their lances; they have nothing else that they can
use to protect themselves, or annoy their enemy, on account of the
weight and stiffness of their armor, with which they are, as it were,
built up. He himself, with two cohorts, made to the mountain, the
soldiers briskly following, when they saw him in arms afoot first
toiling and climbing up. Being on the top and standing in an open
place, with a loud voice he cried out, "We have overcome, we have
overcome, fellow-soldiers!" And having so said, he marched against the
armed horsemen, commanding his men not to throw their javelins, but
coming up hand to hand with the enemy, to hack their shins and thighs,
which parts alone were unguarded in these heavy-armed horsemen. But
there was no need of this way of fighting, for they stood not to
receive the Romans, but with great clamor and worse flight they and
their heavy horses threw themselves upon the ranks of the foot, before
ever these could so much as begin the fight, insomuch that without a
wound or bloodshed, so many thousands were overthrown. The greatest
slaughter was made in the flight, or rather in the endeavoring to fly
away, which they could not well do by reason of the depth and closeness
of their own ranks, which hindered them. Tigranes at first fled with a
few, but seeing his son in the same misfortune, he took the diadem from
his head, and with tears gave it him, bidding him save himself by some
other road if he could. But the young man, not daring to put it on,
gave it to one of his trustiest servants to keep for him. This man, as
it happened, being taken, was brought to Lucullus, and so, among the
captives, the crown, also, of Tigranes was taken. It is stated that
above a hundred thousand foot were lost, and that of the horse but very
few escaped at all. Of the Romans, a hundred were wounded, and five
killed. Antiochus the philosopher, making mention of this fight in his
book about the gods, says that the sun never saw the like. Strabo, a
second philosopher, in his historical collection says, that the Romans
could not but blush and deride themselves, for putting on armor against
such pitiful slaves. Livy also says, that the Romans never fought an
enemy with such unequal forces, for the conquerors were not so much as
one twentieth part of the number of the conquered. The most sagacious
and experienced Roman commanders made it a chief commendation of
Lucullus, that he had conquered two great and potent kings by two most
opposite ways, haste and delay. For he wore out the flourishing power
of Mithridates by delay and time, and crushed that of Tigranes by
haste; being one of the rare examples of generals who made use of delay
for active achievement, and speed for security.
On this account it was that Mithridates had made no haste to come up to
fight, imagining Lucullus would, as he had done before, use caution and
delay, which made him march at his leisure to join Tigranes. And first,
as he began to meet some straggling Armenians in the way, making off in
great fear and consternation, he suspected the worst, and when greater
numbers of stripped and wounded men met him and assured him of the
defeat, he set out to seek for Tigranes. And finding him destitute and
humiliated, he by no means requited him with insolence, but alighting
from his horse, and condoling with him on their common loss, he gave
him his own royal guard to attend him, and animated him for the future.
And they together gathered fresh forces about them. In the city
Tigranocerta, the Greeks meantime, dividing from the barbarians, sought
to deliver it up to Lucullus, and he attacked and took it. He seized on
the treasure himself, but gave the city to be plundered by the
soldiers, in which were found, amongst other property, eight thousand
talents of coined money. Besides this, also, he distributed eight
hundred drachmas to each man, out of the spoils. When he understood
that many players were taken in the city, whom Tigranes had invited
from all parts for opening the theater which he had built, he made use
of them for celebrating his triumphal games and spectacles. The Greeks
he sent home, allowing them money for their journey, and the barbarians
also, as many as had been forced away from their own dwellings. So that
by this one city being dissolved, many, by the restitution of their
former inhabitants, were restored. By all of which Lucullus was beloved
as a benefactor and founder. Other successes, also, attended him, such
as he well deserved, desirous as he was far more of praise for acts of
justice and clemency, than for feats in war, these being due partly to
the soldiers, and very greatly to fortune, while those are the sure
proofs of a gentle and liberal soul; and by such aids Lucullus, at that
time, even without the help of arms, succeeded in reducing the
barbarians. For the kings of the Arabians came to him, tendering what
they had, and with them the Sophenians also submitted. And he so dealt
with the Gordyenians, that they were willing to leave their own
habitations, and to follow him with their wives and children. Which was
for this cause. Zarbienus, king of the Gordyenians, as has been told,
being impatient under the tyranny of Tigranes, had by Appius secretly
made overtures of confederacy with Lucullus, but, being discovered, was
executed, and his wife and children with him, before the Romans entered
Armenia. Lucullus forgot not this, but coming to the Gordyenians made a
solemn interment in honor of Zarbienus, and adorning the funeral pile
with royal robes, and gold, and the spoils of Tigranes, he himself in
person kindled the fire, and poured in perfumes with the friends and
relations of the deceased, calling him his companion and the
confederate of the Romans. He ordered, also, a costly monument to be
built for him. There was a large treasure of gold and silver found in
Zarbienus's palace, and no less than three million measures of corn, so
that the soldiers were provided for, and Lucullus had the high
commendation of maintaining the war at its own charge, without
receiving one drachma from the public treasury.
After this came an embassy from the king of Parthia to him, desiring
amity and confederacy; which being readily embraced by Lucullus,
another was sent by him in return to the Parthian, the members of which
discovered him to be a double-minded man, and to be dealing privately
at the same time with Tigranes, offering to take part with him, upon
condition Mesopotamia were delivered up to him. Which as soon as
Lucullus understood, he resolved to pass by Tigranes and Mithridates as
antagonists already overcome, and to try the power of Parthia, by
leading his army against them, thinking it would be a glorious result,
thus in one current of war, like an athlete in the games, to throw down
three kings one after another, and successively to deal as a conqueror
with three of the greatest powers under heaven. He sent, therefore,
into Pontus to Sornatius and his colleagues, bidding them bring the
army thence, and join with him in his expedition out of Gordyene. The
soldiers there, however, who had been restive and unruly before, now
openly displayed their mutinous temper. No manner of entreaty or force
availed with them, but they protested and cried out that they would
stay no longer even there, but would go away and desert Pontus. The
news of which, when reported to Lucullus, did no small harm to the
soldiers about him, who were already corrupted with wealth and plenty,
and desirous of ease. And on hearing the boldness of the others, they
called them men, and declared they themselves ought to follow their
example, for the actions which they had done did now well deserve
release from service, and repose.
Upon these and worse words, Lucullus gave up the thoughts of invading
Parthia, and in the height of summertime, went against Tigranes.
Passing over Taurus, he was filled with apprehension at the greenness
of the fields before him, so long is the season deferred in this region
by the coldness of the air. But, nevertheless, he went down, and twice
or thrice putting to flight the Armenians who dared to come out against
him, he plundered and burnt their villages, and seizing on the
provision designed for Tigranes, reduced his enemies to the necessity
which he had feared for himself. But when, after doing all he could to
provoke the enemy to fight, by drawing entrenchments round their camp
and by burning the country before them, he could by no means bring them
to venture out, after their frequent defeats before, he rose up and
marched to Artaxata, the royal city of Tigranes, where his wives and
young children were kept, judging that Tigranes would never suffer that
to go without the hazard of a battle. It is related that Hannibal, the
Carthaginian, after the defeat of Antiochus by the Romans, coming to
Artaxas, king of Armenia, pointed out to him many other matters to his
advantage, and observing the great natural capacities and the
pleasantness of the site, then lying unoccupied and neglected, drew a
model of a city for it, and bringing Artaxas thither, showed it to him
and encouraged him to build. At which the king being pleased, and
desiring him to oversee the work, erected a large and stately city,
which was called after his own name, and made metropolis of Armenia.
And in fact, when Lucullus proceeded against it, Tigranes no longer
suffered it, but came with his army, and on the fourth day sat down by
the Romans, the river Arsanias lying between them, which of necessity
Lucullus must pass in his march to Artaxata. Lucullus, after sacrifice
to the gods, as if victory were already obtained, carried over his
army, having twelve cohorts in the first division in front, the rest
being disposed in the rear to prevent the enemy's enclosing them. For
there were many choice horse drawn up against him; in the front stood
the Mardian horse-archers, and Iberians with long spears, in whom,
being the most warlike, Tigranes more confided than in any other of his
foreign troops. But nothing of moment was done by them, for though they
skirmished with the Roman horse at a distance, they were not able to
stand when the foot came up to them; but being broken, and flying on
both sides, drew the horse in pursuit after them. Though these were
routed, yet Lucullus was not without alarm when he saw the cavalry
about Tigranes with great bravery and in large numbers coming upon him;
he recalled his horse from pursuing, and he himself, first of all, with
the best of his men, engaged the Satrapenians who were opposite him,
and before ever they came to close fight, routed them with the mere
terror. Of three kings in battle against him, Mithridates of Pontus
fled away the most shamefully, being not so much as able to endure the
shout of the Romans. The pursuit reached a long way, and all through
the night the Romans slew and took prisoners, and carried off spoils
and treasure, till they were weary. Livy says there were more taken and
destroyed in the first battle, but in the second, men of greater
distinction.
Lucullus, flushed and animated by this victory, determined to march on
into the interior and there complete his conquests over the barbarians;
but winter weather came on, contrary to expectation, as early as the
autumnal equinox, with storms and frequent snows and, even in the most
clear days, hoar frost and ice, which made the waters scarcely
drinkable for the horses by their exceeding coldness, and scarcely
passable through the ice breaking and cutting the horses' sinews. The
country for the most part being quite uncleared, with difficult passes,
and much wood, kept them continually wet, the snow falling thickly on
them as they marched in the day, and the ground that they lay upon at
night being damp and watery. After the battle they followed Lucullus
not many days before they began to be refractory, first of all
entreating and sending the tribunes to him, but presently they
tumultuously gathered together, and made a shouting all night long in
their tents, a plain sign of a mutinous army. But Lucullus as earnestly
entreated them, desiring them to have patience but till they took the
Armenian Carthage, and overturned the work of their great enemy,
meaning Hannibal. But when he could not prevail, he led them back, and
crossing Taurus by another road, came into the fruitful and sunny
country of Mygdonia, where was a great and populous city, by the
barbarians called Nisibis, by the Greeks Antioch of Mygdonia. This was
defended by Guras, brother of Tigranes, with the dignity of governor,
and by the engineering skill and dexterity of Callimachus, the same who
so much annoyed the Romans at Amisus. Lucullus, however, brought his
army up to it, and laying close siege in a short time took it by storm.
He used Guras, who surrendered himself, kindly, but gave no attention
to Callimachus, though he offered to make discovery of hidden
treasures, commanding him to be kept in chains, to be punished for
firing the city of Amisus, which had disappointed his ambition of
showing favor and kindness to the Greeks.
Hitherto, one would imagine fortune had attended and fought with
Lucullus, but afterward, as if the wind had failed of a sudden, he did
all things by force, and, as it were, against the grain; and showed
certainly the conduct and patience of a wise captain, but in the result
met with no fresh honor or reputation; and, indeed, by bad success and
vain embarrassments with his soldiers, he came within a little of
losing even what he had before. He himself was not the least cause of
all this, being far from inclined to seek popularity with the mass of
the soldiers, and more ready to think any indulgence shown to them an
invasion of his own authority. But what was worst of all, he was
naturally unsociable to his great officers in commission with him,
despising others and thinking them worthy of nothing in comparison with
himself. These faults, we are told, he had with all his many
excellences; he was of a large and noble person, an eloquent speaker
and a wise counselor, both in the forum and the camp. Sallust says, the
soldiers were ill affected to him from the beginning of the war,
because they were forced to keep the field two winters at Cyzicus, and
afterwards at Amisus. Their other winters, also, vexed them, for they
either spent them in an enemy's country, or else were confined to their
tents in the open field among their confederates; for Lucullus not so
much as once went into a Greek confederate town with his army. To this
ill affection abroad, the tribunes yet more contributed at home,
invidiously accusing Lucullus, as one who for empire and riches
prolonged the war, holding, it might almost be said, under his sole
power Cilicia, Asia, Bithynia, Paphlagonia, Pontus, Armenia, all as far
as the river Phasis; and now of late had plundered the royal city of
Tigranes, as if he had been commissioned not so much to subdue, as to
strip kings. This is what we are told was said by Lucius Quintius, one
of the praetors, at whose instance, in particular, the people
determined to send one who should succeed Lucullus in his province, and
voted, also, to relieve many of the soldiers under him from further
service.
Besides these evils, that which most of all prejudiced Lucullus, was
Publius Clodius, an insolent man, very vicious and bold, brother to
Lucullus's wife, a woman of bad conduct, with whom Clodius was himself
suspected of criminal intercourse. Being then in the army under
Lucullus, but not in as great authority as he expected, (for he would
fain have been the chief of all, but on account of his character was
postponed to many,) he ingratiated himself secretly with the Fimbrian
troops, and stirred them up against Lucullus, using fair speeches to
them, who of old had been used to be flattered in such manner. These
were those whom Fimbria before had persuaded to kill the consul
Flaccus, and choose him their leader. And so they listened not
unwillingly to Clodius, and called him the soldiers' friend, for the
concern he professed for them, and the indignation he expressed at the
prospect that "there must be no end of war and toils, but in fighting
with all nations, and wandering throughout all the world they must wear
out their lives, receiving no other reward for their service than to
guard the carriages and camels of Lucullus, laden with gold and
precious goblets; while as for Pompey's soldiers, they were all
citizens, living safe at home with their wives and children, on fertile
lands, or in towns, and that, not after driving Mithridates and
Tigranes into wild deserts, and overturning the royal cities of Asia,
but after having merely reduced exiles in Spain, or fugitive slaves in
Italy. Nay, if indeed we must never have an end of fighting, should we
not rather reserve the remainder of our bodies and souls for a general
who will reckon his chiefest glory to be the wealth of his soldiers."
By such practices the army of Lucullus being corrupted, neither
followed him against Tigranes, nor against Mithridates, when he now at
once returned into Pontus out of Armenia, and was recovering his
kingdom, but under presence of the winter, sat idle in Gordyene, every
minute expecting either Pompey, or some other general, to succeed
Lucullus. But when news came that Mithridates had defeated Fabius, and
was marching against Sornatius and Triarius, out of shame they followed
Lucullus. Triarius, ambitiously aiming at victory, before ever Lucullus
came to him, though he was then very near, was defeated in a great
battle, in which it is said that above seven thousand Romans fell,
among whom were a hundred and fifty centurions, and four and twenty
tribunes, and that the camp itself was taken. Lucullus, coming up a few
days after, concealed Triarius from the search of the angry soldiers.
But when Mithridates declined battle, and waited for the coming of
Tigranes, who was then on his march with great forces, he resolved
before they joined their forces to turn once more and engage with
Tigranes. But in the way the mutinous Fimbrians deserted their ranks,
professing themselves released from service by a decree, and that
Lucullus, the provinces being allotted to others, had no longer any
right to command them. There was nothing beneath the dignity of
Lucullus which he did not now submit to bear, entreating them one by
one, from tent to tent, going up and down humbly and in tears, and even
taking some like a suppliant, by the hand. But they turned away from
his salutes, and threw down their empty purses, bidding him engage
alone with the enemy, as he alone made advantage of it. At length, by
the entreaty of the other soldiers, the Fimbrians, being prevailed
upon, consented to tarry that summer under him, but if during that time
no enemy came to fight them, to be free. Lucullus of necessity was
forced to comply with this, or else to abandon the country to the
barbarians. He kept them, indeed, with him, but without urging his
authority upon them; nor did he lead them out to battle, being
contented if they would but stay with him, though he then saw
Cappadocia wasted by Tigranes, and Mithridates again triumphing, whom
not long before he reported to the senate to be wholly subdued; and
commissioners were now arrived to settle the affairs of Pontus, as if
all had been quietly in his possession. But when they came, they found
him not so much as master of himself, but contemned and derided by the
common soldiers, who arrived at that height of insolence against their
general, that at the end of summer they put on their armor and drew
their swords, and defied their enemies then absent and gone off a long
while before, and with great outcries and waving their swords in the
air, they quitted the camp, proclaiming that the time was expired which
they promised to stay with Lucullus. The rest were summoned by letters
from Pompey to come and join him; he, by the favor of the people and by
flattery of their leaders, having been chosen general of the army
against Mithridates and Tigranes, though the senate and the nobility
all thought that Lucullus was injured, having those put over his head
who succeeded rather to his triumph, than to his commission, and that
he was not so truly deprived of his command, as of the glory he had
deserved in his command, which he was forced to yield to another.
It was yet more of just matter of pity and indignation to those who
were present; for Lucullus remained no longer master of rewards or
punishments for any actions done in the war; neither would Pompey
suffer any man to go to him, or pay any respect to the orders and
arrangements he made with advice of his ten commissioners, but
expressly issued edicts to the contrary, and could not but be obeyed by
reason of his greater power. Friends, however, on both sides, thought
it desirable to bring them together, and they met in a village of
Galatia and saluted each other in a friendly manner, with
congratulations on each other's successes. Lucullus was the elder, but
Pompey the more distinguished by his more numerous commands and his two
triumphs. Both had rods dressed with laurel carried before them for
their victories. And as Pompey's laurels were withered with passing
through hot and droughty countries, Lucullus's lictors courteously gave
Pompey's some of the fresh and green ones which they had, which
Pompey's friends counted a good omen, as indeed of a truth, Lucullus's
actions furnished the honors of Pompey's command. The interview,
however, did not bring them to any amicable agreement; they parted even
less friends than they met. Pompey repealed all the acts of Lucullus,
drew off his soldiers, and left him no more than sixteen hundred for
his triumph, and even those unwilling to go with him. So wanting was
Lucullus, either through natural constitution or adverse circumstances,
in that one first and most important requisite of a general, which had
he but added to his other many and remarkable virtues, his fortitude,
vigilance, wisdom, justice, the Roman empire had not had Euphrates for
its boundary, but the utmost ends of Asia and the Hyrcanian sea; as
other nations were then disabled by the late conquests of Tigranes, and
the power of Parthia had not in Lucullus's time shown itself so
formidable as Crassus afterwards found it, nor had as yet gained that
consistency, being crippled by wars at home, and on its frontiers, and
unable even to make head against the encroachments of the Armenians.
And Lucullus, as it was, seems to me through others' agency to have
done Rome greater harm, than he did her advantage by his own. For the
trophies in Armenia, near the Parthian frontier, and Tigranocerta, and
Nisibis, and the great wealth brought from thence to Rome, with the
captive crown of Tigranes carried in triumph, all helped to puff up
Crassus, as if the barbarians had been nothing else but spoil and
booty, and he, falling among the Parthian archers, soon demonstrated
that Lucullus's triumphs were not beholden to the inadvertency and
effeminacy of his enemies, but to his own courage and conduct. But of
this afterwards.
Lucullus, upon his return to Rome, found his brother Marcus accused by
Caius Memmius, for his acts as quaestor, done by Sylla's orders; and on
his acquittal, Memmius changed the scene, and animated the people
against Lucullus himself, urging them to deny him a triumph for
appropriating the spoils and prolonging the war. In this great
struggle, the nobility and chief men went down and mingling in person
among the tribes, with much entreaty and labor, scarce at length
prevailed upon them to consent to his triumph. The pomp of which proved
not so wonderful or so wearisome with the length of the procession and
the number of things carried in it, but consisted chiefly in vast
quantities of arms and machines of the king's, with which he adorned
the Flaminian circus, a spectacle by no means despicable. In his
progress there passed by a few horsemen in heavy armor, ten chariots
armed with scythes, sixty friends and officers of the king's, and a
hundred and ten brazen-beaked ships of war, which were conveyed along
with them, a golden image of Mithridates six feet high, a shield set
with precious stones, twenty loads of silver vessels, and thirty-two of
golden cups, armor, and money, all carried by men. Besides which, eight
mules were laden with golden couches, fifty-six with bullion, and a
hundred and seven with coined silver, little less than two millions
seven hundred thousand pieces. There were tablets, also, with
inscriptions, stating what moneys he gave Pompey for prosecuting the
piratic war, what he delivered into the treasury, and what he gave to
every soldier, which was nine hundred and fifty drachmas each. After
all which he nobly feasted the city and adjoining villages, or vici.
Being divorced from Clodia, a dissolute and wicked woman, he married
Servilia, sister to Cato. This also proved an unfortunate match, for
she only wanted one of all Clodia's vices, the criminality she was
accused of with her brothers. Out of reverence to Cato, he for a while
connived at her impurity and immodesty, but at length dismissed her.
When the senate expected great things from him, hoping to find in him a
check to the usurpations of Pompey, and that with the greatness of his
station and credit he would come forward as the champion of the
nobility, he retired from business and abandoned public life; either
because he saw the State to be in a difficult and diseased condition,
or, as others say, because he was as great as he could well be, and
inclined to a quiet and easy life, after those many labors and toils
which had ended with him so far from fortunately. There are those who
highly commend his change of life, saying that he thus avoided that
rock on which Marius split. For he, after the great and glorious deeds
of his Cimbrian victories, was not contented to retire upon his honors,
but out of an insatiable desire of glory and power, even in his old
age, headed a political party against young men, and let himself fall
into miserable actions, and yet more miserable sufferings. Better, in
like manner, they say, had it been for Cicero, after Catiline's
conspiracy, to have retired and grown old, and for Scipio, after his
Numantine and Carthaginian conquests, to have sat down contented. For
the administration of public affairs has, like other things, its proper
term, and statesmen as well as wrestlers will break down, when strength
and youth fail. But Crassus and Pompey, on the other hand, laughed to
see Lucullus abandoning himself to pleasure and expense, as if
luxurious living were not a thing that as little became his years, as
government of affairs at home, or of an army abroad.
And, indeed, Lucullus's life, like the Old Comedy, presents us at the
commencement with acts of policy and of war, at the end offering
nothing but good eating and drinking, feastings and revellings, and
mere play. For I give no higher name to his sumptuous buildings,
porticoes and baths, still less to his paintings and sculptures, and
all his industry about these curiosities, which he collected with vast
expense, lavishly bestowing all the wealth and treasure which he got in
the war upon them, insomuch that even now, with all the advance of
luxury, the Lucullean gardens are counted the noblest the emperor has.
Tubero the stoic, when he saw his buildings at Naples, where he
suspended the hills upon vast tunnels, brought in the sea for moats and
fish-ponds round his house, and built pleasure-houses in the waters,
called him Xerxes in a gown. He had also fine seats in Tusculum,
belvederes, and large open balconies for men's apartments, and
porticoes to walk in, where Pompey coming to see him, blamed him for
making a house which would be pleasant in summer but uninhabitable in
winter; whom he answered with a smile, "You think me, then, less
provident than cranes and storks, not to change my home with the
season." When a praetor, with great expense and pains, was preparing a
spectacle for the people, and asked him to lend him some purple robes
for the performers in a chorus, he told him he would go home and see,
and if he had got any, would let him have them; and the next day asking
how many he wanted, and being told that a hundred would suffice, bade
him to take twice as many: on which the poet Horace observes, that a
house is but a poor one, where the valuables unseen and unthought of do
not exceed all those that meet the eye.
Lucullus's daily entertainments were ostentatiously extravagant, not
only with purple coverlets, and plate adorned with precious stones, and
dancings, and interludes, but with the greatest diversity of dishes and
the most elaborate cookery, for the vulgar to admire and envy. It was a
happy thought of Pompey in his sickness, when his physician prescribed
a thrush for his dinner, and his servants told him that in summer time
thrushes were not to be found anywhere but in Lucullus's fattening
coops, that he would not suffer them to fetch one thence, but observing
to his physician, "So if Lucullus had not been an epicure, Pompey had
not lived," ordered something else that could easily be got to be
prepared for him. Cato was his friend and connection, but,
nevertheless, so hated his life and habits, that when a young man in
the senate made a long and tedious speech in praise of frugality and
temperance, Cato got up and said, "How long do you mean to go on making
money like Crassus, living like Lucullus, and talking like Cato?" There
are some, however, who say the words were said, but not by Cato.
It is plain from the anecdotes on record of him, that Lucullus was not
only pleased with, but even gloried in his way of living. For he is
said to have feasted several Greeks upon their coming to Rome day after
day, who, out of a true Grecian principle, being ashamed, and declining
the invitation, where so great an expense was every day incurred for
them, he with a smile told them, "Some of this, indeed, my Grecian
friends, is for your sakes, but more for that of Lucullus." Once when
he supped alone, there being only one course, and that but moderately
furnished, he called his steward and reproved him, who, professing to
have supposed that there would be no need of any great entertainment,
when nobody was invited, was answered, "What, did not you know, then,
that to-day Lucullus dines with Lucullus?" Which being much spoken of
about the city, Cicero and Pompey one day met him loitering in the
forum, the former his intimate friend and familiar, and, though there
had been some ill-will between Pompey and him about the command in the
war, still they used to see each other and converse on easy terms
together. Cicero accordingly saluted him, and asked him whether to-day
were a good time for asking a favor of him, and on his answering, "Very
much so," and begging to hear what it was, "Then," said Cicero, "we
should like to dine with you today, just on the dinner that is prepared
for yourself." Lucullus being surprised, and requesting a day's time,
they refused to grant it, neither suffered him to talk with his
servants, for fear he should give order for more than was appointed
before. But thus much they consented to, that before their faces he
might tell his servant, that to-day he would sup in the Apollo, (for so
one of his best dining-rooms was called,) and by this evasion he
outwitted his guests. For every room, as it seems, had its own
assessment of expenditure, dinner at such a price, and all else in
accordance; so that the servants, on knowing where he would dine, knew
also how much was to be expended, and in what style and form dinner was
to be served. The expense for the Apollo was fifty thousand drachmas,
and thus much being that day laid out, the greatness of the cost did
not so much amaze Pompey and Cicero, as the rapidity of the outlay. One
might believe Lucullus thought his money really captive and barbarian,
so wantonly and contumeliously did he treat it.
His furnishing a library, however, deserves praise and record, for he
collected very many and choice manuscripts; and the use they were put
to was even more magnificent than the purchase, the library being
always open, and the walks and reading-rooms about it free to all
Greeks, whose delight it was to leave their other occupations and
hasten thither as to the habitation of the Muses, there walking about,
and diverting one another. He himself often passed his hours there,
disputing with the learned in the walks, and giving his advice to
statesmen who required it, insomuch that his house was altogether a
home, and in a manner a Greek prytaneum for those that visited Rome. He
was fond of all sorts of philosophy, and was well-read and expert in
them all. But he always from the first specially favored and valued the
Academy; not the New one which at that time under Philo flourished with
the precepts of Carneades, but the Old one, then sustained and
represented by Antiochus of Ascalon, a learned and eloquent man.
Lucullus with great labor made him his friend and companion, and set
him up against Philo's auditors, among whom Cicero was one, who wrote
an admirable treatise in defense of his sect, in which he puts the
argument in favor of comprehension in the mouth of Lucullus, and the
opposite argument in his own. The book is called Lucullus. For as has
been said, they were great friends, and took the same side in politics.
For Lucullus did not wholly retire from the republic, but only from
ambition, and from the dangerous and often lawless struggle for
political preeminence, which he left to Crassus and Cato, whom the
senators, jealous of Pompey's greatness, put forward as their
champions, when Lucullus refused to head them. For his friends' sake he
came into the forum and into the senate, when occasion offered to
humble the ambition and pride of Pompey, whose settlement, after his
conquests over the kings, he got canceled, and by the assistance of
Cato, hindered a division of lands to his soldiers, which he proposed.
So Pompey went over to Crassus and Caesar's alliance, or rather
conspiracy, and filling the city with armed men, procured the
ratification of his decrees by force, and drove Cato and Lucullus out
of the forum. Which being resented by the nobility, Pompey's party
produced one Vettius, pretending they apprehended him in a design
against Pompey's life. Who in the senate-house accused others, but
before the people named Lucullus, as if he had been suborned by him to
kill Pompey. Nobody gave heed to what he said, and it soon appeared
that they had put him forward to make false charges and accusations.
And after a few days the whole intrigue became yet more obvious, when
the dead body of Vettius was thrown out of the prison, he being
reported, indeed, to have died a natural death, but carrying marks of a
halter and blows about him, and seeming rather to have been taken off
by those who suborned him. These things kept Lucullus at a greater
distance from the republic.
But when Cicero was banished the city, and Cato sent to Cyprus, he
quitted public affairs altogether. It is said, too, that before his
death, his intellects failed him by degrees. But Cornelius Nepos denies
that either age or sickness impaired his mind, which was rather
affected by a potion, given him by Callisthenes his freedman. The
potion was meant by Callisthenes to strengthen his affection for him,
and was supposed to have that tendency but it acted quite otherwise,
and so disabled and unsettled his mind, that while he was yet alive,
his brother took charge of his affairs. At his death, as though it had
been the death of one taken off in the very height of military and
civil glory, the people were much concerned, and flocked together, and
would have forcibly taken his corpse, as it was carried into the
market-place by young men of the highest rank, and have buried it in
the field of Mars, where they buried Sylla. Which being altogether
unexpected, and necessaries not easily to be procured on a sudden, his
brother, after much entreaty and solicitation, prevailed upon them to
suffer him to be buried on his Tusculan estate as had been appointed.
He himself survived him but a short time, coming not far behind in
death, as he did in age and renown, in all respects, a most loving
brother.
COMPARISON OF LUCULLUS WITH CIMON
One might bless the end of Lucullus, which was so timed as to let him
die before the great revolution, which fate by intestine wars, was
already effecting against the established government, and to close his
life in a free though troubled commonwealth. And in this, above all
other things, Cimon and he are alike. For he died also when Greece was
as yet undisordered, in its highest felicity; though in the field at
the head of his army, not recalled, nor out of his mind, nor sullying
the glory of his wars, engagements, and conquests, by making feastings
and debauches seem the apparent end and aim of them all; as Plato says
scornfully of Orpheus, that he makes an eternal debauch hereafter, the
reward of those who lived well here. Indeed, ease and quiet, and the
study of pleasant and speculative learning, to an old man retiring from
command and office, is a most suitable and becoming solace; but to
misguide virtuous actions to pleasure as their utmost end, and, as the
conclusion of campaigns and commands, to keep the feast of Venus, did
not become the noble Academy, and the follower of Xenocrates, but
rather one that inclined to Epicurus. And this its one surprising point
of contrast between them; Cimon's youth was ill- reputed and
intemperate Lucullus's well disciplined and sober. Undoubtedly we must
give the preference to the change for good, for it argues the better
nature, where vice declines and virtue grows. Both had great wealth,
but employed it in different ways; and there is no comparison between
the south wall of the acropolis built by Cimon, and the chambers and
galleries, with their sea- views, built at Naples by Lucullus, out of
the spoils of the barbarians. Neither can we compare Cimon's popular
and liberal table with the sumptuous oriental one of Lucullus, the
former receiving a great many guests every day at small cost, the
latter expensively spread for a few men of pleasure, unless you will
say that different times made the alteration. For who can tell but that
Cimon, if he had retired in his old age from business and war to quiet
and solitude, might have lived a more luxurious and self- indulgent
life, as he was fond of wine and company, and accused, as has been
said, of laxity with women? The better pleasures gained in successful
action and effort leave the baser appetites no time or place, and make
active and heroic men forget them. Had but Lucullus ended his days in
the field, and in command, envy and detraction itself could never have
accused him. So much for their manner of life.
In war, it is plain they were both soldiers of excellent conduct, both
at land and sea. But as in the games they honor those champions who on
the same day gain the garland, both in wrestling and in the pancratium,
with the name of "Victors and more," so Cimon, honoring Greece with a
sea and land victory on the same day, may claim a certain preeminence
among commanders. Lucullus received command from his country, whereas
Cimon brought it to his. He annexed the territories of enemies to her,
who ruled over confederates before, but Cimon made his country, which
when he began was a mere follower of others, both rule over
confederates, and conquer enemies too, forcing the Persians to
relinquish the sea, and inducing the Lacedaemonians to surrender their
command. If it be the chiefest thing in a general to obtain the
obedience of his soldiers by good-will, Lucullus was despised by his
own army, but Cimon highly prized even by others. His soldiers deserted
the one, the confederates came over to the other. Lucullus came home
without the forces which he led out; Cimon, sent out at first to serve
as one confederate among others, returned home with authority even over
these also, having successfully effected for his city three most
difficult services, establishing peace with the enemy, dominion over
confederates, and concord with Lacedaemon. Both aiming to destroy great
kingdoms, and subdue all Asia, failed in their enterprise, Cimon by a
simple piece of ill- fortune, for he died when general, in the height
of success; but Lucullus no man can wholly acquit of being in fault
with his soldiers, whether it were he did not know, or would not comply
with the distastes and complaints of his army, which brought him at
last into such extreme unpopularity among them. But did not Cimon also
suffer like him in this? For the citizens arraigned him, and did not
leave off till they had banished him, that, as Plato says, they might
not hear him for the space of ten years. For high and noble minds
seldom please the vulgar, or are acceptable to them; for the force they
use to straighten their distorted actions gives the same pain as
surgeons' bandages do in bringing dislocated bones to their natural
position. Both of them, perhaps, come off pretty much with an equal
acquittal on this count.
Lucullus very much outwent him in war being the first Roman who carried
an army over Taurus, passed the Tigris, took and burnt the royal
palaces of Asia in the sight of the kings, Tigranocerta, Cabira,
Sinope, and Nisibis, seizing and overwhelming the northern parts as far
as the Phasis, the east as far as Media, and making the South and Red
Sea his own through the kings of the Arabians. He shattered the power
of the kings, and narrowly missed their persons, while like wild beasts
they fled away into deserts and thick and impassable woods. In
demonstration of this superiority, we see that the Persians, as if no
great harm had befallen them under Cimon, soon after appeared in arms
against the Greeks, and overcame and destroyed their numerous forces in
Egypt. But after Lucullus, Tigranes and Mithridates were able to do
nothing; the latter, being disabled and broken in the former wars,
never dared to show his army to Pompey outside the camp, but fled away
to Bosporus, and there died. Tigranes threw himself, naked and unarmed,
down before Pompey, and taking his crown from his head, laid it at his
feet, complimenting Pompey with what was not his own, but, in real
truth, the conquest already effected by Lucullus. And when he received
the ensigns of majesty again, he was well pleased, evidently because he
had forfeited them before. And the commander, as the wrestler, is to be
accounted to have done most who leaves an adversary almost conquered
for his successor. Cimon, moreover, when he took the command, found the
power of the king broken, and the spirits of the Persians humbled by
their great defeats and incessant routs under Themistocles, Pausanias,
and Leotychides, and thus easily overcame the bodies of men whose souls
were quelled and defeated beforehand. But Tigranes had never yet in
many combats been beaten, and was flushed with success when he engaged
with Lucullus. There is no comparison between the numbers, which came
against Lucullus, and those subdued by Cimon. All which things being
rightly considered, it is a hard matter to give judgment. For
supernatural favor also appears to have attended both of them,
directing the one what to do, the other what to avoid, and thus they
have, both of them, so to say, the vote of the gods, to declare them
noble and divine characters.
NICIAS
Crassus, in my opinion, may most properly be set against Nicias, and
the Parthian disaster compared with that in Sicily. But here it will be
well for me to entreat the reader, in all courtesy, not to think that I
contend with Thucydides in matters so pathetically, vividly, and
eloquently, beyond all imitation, and even beyond himself, expressed by
him; nor to believe me guilty of the like folly with Timaeus, who,
hoping in his history to surpass Thucydides in art, and to make
Philistus appear a trifler and a novice, pushes on in his descriptions,
through all the battles, sea-fights, and public speeches, in recording
which they have been most successful, without meriting so much as to be
compared in Pindar's phrase, to
One that on his feet
Would with the Lydian cars compete.
He simply shows himself all along a half-lettered, childish writer; in
the words of Diphilus,
-- of wit obese,
O'erlarded with Sicilian grease.
Often he sinks to the very level of Xenarchus, telling us that he
thinks it ominous to the Athenians that their general, who had victory
in his name, was unwilling to take command in the expedition; and that
the defacing of the Hermae was a divine intimation that they should
suffer much in the war by Hermocrates, the son of Hermon; and,
moreover, how it was likely that Hercules should aid the Syracusans for
the sake of Proserpine, by whose means he took Cerberus, and should be
angry with the Athenians for protecting the Egesteans, descended from
Trojan ancestors, whose city he, for an injury of their king Laomedon,
had overthrown. However, all these may be merely other instances of the
same happy taste that makes him correct the diction of Philistus, and
abuse Plato and Aristotle. This sort of contention and rivalry with
others in matter of style, to my mind, in any case, seems petty and
pedantic, but when its objects are works of inimitable excellence, it
is absolutely senseless. Such actions in Nicias's life as Thucydides
and Philistus have related, since they cannot be passed by,
illustrating as they do most especially his character and temper, under
his many and great troubles, that I may not seem altogether negligent,
I shall briefly run over. And such things as are not commonly known,
and lie scattered here and there in other men's writings, or are found
amongst the old monuments and archives, I shall endeavor to bring
together; not collecting mere useless pieces of learning, but adducing
what may make his disposition and habit of mind understood.
First of all, I would mention what Aristotle has said of Nicias, that
there had been three good citizens, eminent above the rest for their
hereditary affection and love to the people, Nicias the son of
Niceratus, Thucydides the son of Melesias, and Theramenes the son of
Hagnon, but the last less than the others; for he had his dubious
extraction cast in his teeth, as a foreigner from Ceos, and his
inconstancy, which made him side sometimes with one party, sometimes
with another in public life, and which obtained him the nickname of the
Buskin.
Thucydides came earlier, and, on the behalf of the nobility, was a
great opponent of the measures by which Pericles courted the favor of
the people.
Nicias was a younger man, yet was in some reputation even whilst
Pericles lived; so much so as to have been his colleague in the office
of general, and to have held command by himself more than once. But on
the death of Pericles, he presently rose to the highest place, chiefly
by the favor of the rich and eminent citizens, who set him up for their
bulwark against the presumption and insolence of Cleon; nevertheless,
he did not forfeit the good-will of the commonalty, who, likewise,
contributed to his advancement. For though Cleon got great influence by
his exertions
-- to please The old men, who trusted him to find them fees.
Yet even those, for whose interest, and to gain whose favor he acted,
nevertheless observing the avarice, the arrogance, and the presumption
of the man, many of them supported Nicias. For his was not that sort of
gravity which is harsh and offensive, but he tempered it with a certain
caution and deference, winning upon the people, by seeming afraid of
them. And being naturally diffident and unhopeful in war, his good
fortune supplied his want of courage, and kept it from being detected,
as in all his commands he was constantly successful. And his
timorousness in civil life, and his extreme dread of accusers, was
thought very suitable in a citizen of a free State; and from the
people's good-will towards him, got him no small power over them, they
being fearful of all that despised them, but willing to promote one who
seemed to be afraid of them; the greatest compliment their betters
could pay them being not to contemn them.
Pericles, who by solid virtue and the pure force of argument ruled the
commonwealth, had stood in need of no disguises nor persuasions with
the people. Nicias, inferior in these respects, used his riches, of
which he had abundance, to gain popularity. Neither had he the nimble
wit of Cleon, to win the Athenians to his purposes by amusing them with
bold jests; unprovided with such qualities, he courted them with
dramatic exhibitions, gymnastic games, and other public shows, more
sumptuous and more splendid than had been ever known in his, or in
former ages. Amongst his religious offerings, there was extant, even in
our days, the small figure of Minerva in the citadel, having lost the
gold that covered it; and a shrine in the temple of Bacchus, under the
tripods, that were presented by those who won the prize in the shows of
plays. For at these he had often carried off the prize, and never once
failed. We are told that on one of these occasions, a slave of his
appeared in the character of Bacchus, of a beautiful person and noble
stature, and with as yet no beard upon his chin; and on the Athenians
being pleased with the sight, and applauding a long time, Nicias stood
up, and said he could not in piety keep as a slave, one whose person
had been consecrated to represent a god. And forthwith he set the young
man free. His performances at Delos are, also, on record, as noble and
magnificent works of devotion. For whereas the choruses which the
cities sent to sing hymns to the god were wont to arrive in no order,
as it might happen, and, being there met by a crowd of people crying
out to them to sing, in their hurry to begin, used to disembark
confusedly, putting on their garlands, and changing their dresses as
they left the ships, he, when he had to convoy the sacred company,
disembarked the chorus at Rhenea, together with the sacrifice, and
other holy appurtenances. And having brought along with him from Athens
a bridge fitted by measurement for the purpose, and magnificently
adorned with gilding and coloring, and with garlands and tapestries;
this he laid in the night over the channel betwixt Rhenea and Delos,
being no great distance. And at break of day he marched forth with all
the procession to the god, and led the chorus, sumptuously ornamented,
and singing their hymns, along over the bridge. The sacrifices, the
games, and the feast being over, he set up a palm-tree of brass for a
present to the god, and bought a parcel of land with ten thousand
drachmas which he consecrated; with the revenue the inhabitants of
Delos were to sacrifice and to feast, and to pray the gods for many
good things to Nicias. This he engraved on a pillar, which he left in
Delos to be a record of his bequest. This same palm-tree, afterwards
broken down by the wind, fell on the great statue which the men of
Naxos presented, and struck it to the ground.
It is plain that much of this might be vainglory, and the mere desire
of popularity and applause; yet from other qualities and carriage of
the man, one might believe all this cost and public display to be the
effect of devotion. For he was one of those who dreaded the divine
powers extremely, and, as Thucydides tells us, was much given to arts
of divination. In one of Pasiphon's dialogues, it is stated that he
daily sacrificed to the gods, and keeping a diviner at his house,
professed to be consulting always about the commonwealth, but for the
most part, inquired about his own private affairs, more especially
concerning his silver mines; for he owned many works at Laurium, of
great value, but somewhat hazardous to carry on. He maintained there a
multitude of slaves, and his wealth consisted chiefly in silver. Hence
he had many hangers-on about him, begging and obtaining. For he gave to
those who could do him mischief, no less than to those who deserved
well. In short, his timidity was a revenue to rogues, and his humanity
to honest men. We find testimony in the comic writers, as when
Teleclides, speaking of one of the professed informers, says: --
Charicles gave the man a pound, the matter not to name,
That from inside a money-bag into the world he came;
And Nicias, also, paid him four; I know the reason well,
But Nicias is a worthy man, and so I will not tell.
So, also, the informer whom Eupolis introduces in his Maricas,
attacking a good, simple, poor man: --
How long ago did you and Nicias meet?
I did but see him just now in the street.
The man has seen him and denies it not,
'Tis evident that they are in a plot.
See you, O citizens! 'tis fact,
Nicias is taken in the act.
Taken, Fools! take so good a man
In aught that's wrong none will or can.
Cleon, in Aristophanes, makes it one of his threats: --
I'll outscream all the speakers, and make Nicias stand aghast!
Phrynichus also implies his want of spirit, and his easiness to be
intimidated in the verses,
A noble man he was, I well can say,
Nor walked like Nicias, cowering on his way.
So cautious was he of informers, and so reserved, that he never would
dine out with any citizen, nor allowed himself to indulge in talk and
conversation with his friends, nor gave himself any leisure for such
amusements; but when he was general he used to stay at the office till
night, and was the first that came to the council-house, and the last
that left it. And if no public business engaged him, it was very hard
to have access, or to speak with him, he being retired at home and
locked up. And when any came to the door, some friend of his gave them
good words, and begged them to excuse him, Nicias was very busy; as if
affairs of State and public duties still kept him occupied. He who
principally acted this part for him, and contributed most to this state
and show, was Hiero, a man educated in Nicias's family, and instructed
by him in letters and music. He professed to be the son of Dionysius,
surnamed Chalcus, whose poems are yet extant, and had led out the
colony to Italy, and founded Thurii. This Hiero transacted all his
secrets for Nicias with the dinners; and gave out to the people, what a
toilsome and miserable life he led, for the sake of the commonwealth.
"He," said Hiero, "can never be either at the bath, or at his meat, but
some public business interferes. Careless of his own, and zealous for
the public good, he scarcely ever goes to bed till after others have
had their first sleep. So that his health is impaired, and his body out
of order, nor is he cheerful or affable with his friends, but loses
them as well as his money in the service of the State, while other men
gain friends by public speaking, enrich themselves, fare delicately,
and make government their amusement." And in fact this was Nicias's
manner of life, so that he well might apply to himself the words of
Agamemnon: --
Vain pomp's the ruler of the life we live,
And a slave's service to the crowd we give.
He observed that the people, in the case of men of eloquence, or of
eminent parts, made use of their talents upon occasion, but were always
jealous of their abilities, and held a watchful eye upon them, taking
all opportunities to humble their pride and abate their reputation; as
was manifest in their condemnation of Pericles, their banishment of
Damon, their distrust of Antiphon the Rhamnusian, but especially in the
case of Paches who took Lesbos, who, having to give an account of his
conduct, in the very court of justice unsheathed his sword and slew
himself. Upon such considerations, Nicias declined all difficult and
lengthy enterprises; if he took a command, he was for doing what was
safe; and if, as thus was likely, he had for the most part success, he
did not attribute it to any wisdom, conduct, or courage of his own,
but, to avoid envy, he thanked fortune for all, and gave the glory to
the divine powers. And the actions themselves bore testimony in his
favor; the city met at that time with several considerable reverses,
but he had not a hand in any of them. The Athenians were routed in
Thrace by the Chalcidians, Calliades and Xenophon commanding in chief.
Demosthenes was the general when they were unfortunate in Aetolia. At
Delium, they lost a thousand citizens under the conduct of Hippocrates;
the plague was principally laid to the charge of Pericles, he, to carry
on the war, having shut up close together in the town the crowd of
people from the country, who, by the change of place, and of their
usual course of living, bred the pestilence. Nicias stood clear of all
this; under his conduct was taken Cythera, an island most commodious
against Laconia, and occupied by the Lacedaemonian settlers; many
places, likewise, in Thrace, which had revolted, were taken or won over
by him; he, shutting up the Megarians within their town, seized upon
the isle of Minoa; and soon after, advancing from thence to Nisaea,
made himself master there, and then making a descent upon the
Corinthian territory, fought a successful battle, and slew a great
number of the Corinthians with their captain Lycophron. There it
happened that two of his men were left by an oversight, when they
carried off the dead, which when he understood, he stopped the fleet,
and sent a herald to the enemy for leave to carry off the dead; though
by law and custom, he that by a truce craved leave to carry off the
dead, was hereby supposed to give up all claim to the victory. Nor was
it lawful for him that did this to erect a trophy, for his is the
victory who is master of the field, and he is not master who asks
leave, as wanting power to take. But he chose rather to renounce his
victory and his glory, than to let two citizens lie unburied. He
scoured the coast of Laconia all along, and beat the Lacedaemonians
that made head against him. He took Thyrea, occupied by the Aeginetans,
and carried the prisoners to Athens.
When Demosthenes had fortified Pylos, and the Peloponnesians brought
together both their sea and land forces before it, after the fight,
about the number of four hundred native Spartans were left ashore in
the isle Sphacteria. The Athenians thought it a great prize, as indeed
it was, to take these men prisoners. But the siege, in places that
wanted water, being very difficult and untoward, and to convey
necessaries about by sea in summer tedious and expensive, in winter
doubtful, or plainly impossible, they began to be annoyed, and to
repent their having rejected the embassy of the Lacedaemonians that had
been sent to propose a treaty of peace, which had been done at the
importunity of Cleon, who opposed it chiefly out of a pique to Nicias;
for, being his enemy, and observing him to be extremely solicitous to
support the offers of the Lacedaemonians, he persuaded the people to
refuse them.
Now, therefore, that the siege was protracted, and they heard of the
difficulties that pressed their army, they grew enraged against Cleon.
But he turned all the blame upon Nicias, charging it on his softness
and cowardice, that the besieged were not yet taken. "Were I general,"
said he, "they should not hold out so long." The Athenians not
unnaturally asked the question, "Why then, as it is, do not you go with
a squadron against them?" And Nicias standing up resigned his command
at Pylos to him, and bade him take what forces he pleased along with
him, and not be bold in words, out of harm's way, but go forth and
perform some real service for the commonwealth. Cleon, at the first,
tried to draw back, disconcerted at the proposal, which he had never
expected; but the Athenians insisting, and Nicias loudly upbraiding
him, he thus provoked, and fired with ambition, took upon him the
charge, and said further, that within twenty days after he embarked, he
would either kill the enemy upon the place, or bring them alive to
Athens. This the Athenians were readier to laugh at than to believe, as
on other occasions, also, his bold assertions and extravagances used to
make them sport, and were pleasant enough. As, for instance, it is
reported that once when the people were assembled, and had waited his
coming a long time, at last he appeared with a garland on his head, and
prayed them to adjourn to the next day. "For," said he, "I am not at
leisure to-day; I have sacrificed to the gods, and am to entertain some
strangers." Whereupon the Athenians laughing rose up, and dissolved the
assembly. However, at this time he had good fortune, and in conjunction
with Demosthenes, conducted the enterprise so well, that within the
time he had limited, he carried captive to Athens all the Spartans that
had not fallen in battle.
This brought great disgrace on Nicias; for this was not to throw away
his shield, but something yet more shameful and ignominious, to quit
his charge voluntarily out of cowardice, and voting himself, as it
were, out of his command of his own accord, to put into his enemy's
hand the opportunity of achieving so brave an action. Aristophanes has
a jest against him on this occasion in the Birds: --
Indeed, not now the word that must be said
Is, do like Nicias, or retire to bed.
And, again, in his Husbandmen: --
I wish to stay at home and farm.
What then?
Who should prevent you?
You, my countrymen;
Whom I would pay a thousand drachmas down,
To let me give up office and leave town.
Enough; content; the sum two thousand is,
With those that Nicias paid to give up his.
Besides all this, he did great mischief to the city by suffering the
accession of so much reputation and power to Cleon, who now assumed
such lofty airs, and allowed himself in such intolerable audacity, as
led to many unfortunate results, a sufficient part of which fell to his
own share. Amongst other things, he destroyed all the decorum of public
speaking; he was the first who ever broke out into exclamations, flung
open his dress, smote his thigh, and ran up and down whilst he was
speaking, things which soon after introduced amongst those who managed
the affairs of State, such license and contempt of decency, as brought
all into confusion.
Already, too, Alcibiades was beginning to show his strength at Athens,
a popular leader, not, indeed, as utterly violent as Cleon, but as the
land of Egypt, through the richness of its soil, is said,
-- great plenty to produce,
Both wholesome herbs, and drugs of deadly juice,
so the nature of Alcibiades was strong and luxuriant in both kinds, and
made way for many serious innovations. Thus it fell out that after
Nicias had got his hands clear of Cleon, he had not opportunity to
settle the city perfectly into quietness. For having brought matters to
a pretty hopeful condition, he found everything carried away and
plunged again into confusion by Alcibiades, through the wildness and
vehemence of his ambition, and all embroiled again in war worse than
ever. Which fell out thus. The persons who had principally hindered the
peace were Cleon and Brasidas. War setting off the virtue of the one,
and hiding the villainy of the other, gave to the one occasions of
achieving brave actions, to the other opportunity of committing equal
dishonesties. Now when these two were in one battle both slain near
Amphipolis, Nicias was aware that the Spartans had long been desirous
of a peace, and that the Athenians had no longer the same confidence in
the war. Both being alike tired, and, as it were by consent, letting
fall their hands, he, therefore, in this nick of time, employed his
efforts to make a friendship betwixt the two cities, and to deliver the
other States of Greece from the evils and calamities they labored
under, and so establish his own good name for success as a statesman
for all future time. He found the men of substance, the elder men, and
the land-owners and farmers pretty generally, all inclined to peace.
And when, in addition to these, by conversing and reasoning, he had
cooled the wishes of a good many others for war, he now encouraged the
hopes of the Lacedaemonians, and counseled them to seek peace. They
confided in him, as on account of his general character for moderation
and equity, so, also, because of the kindness and care he had shown to
the prisoners taken at Pylos and kept in confinement, making their
misfortune the more easy to them.
The Athenians and the Spartans had before this concluded a truce for a
year, and during this, by associating with one another, they had tasted
again the sweets of peace and security, and unimpeded intercourse with
friends and connections, and thus longed for an end of that fighting
and bloodshed, and heard with delight the chorus sing such verses as
-- my lance I'll leave
Laid by, for spiders to o'erweave,
and remembered with joy the saying, In peace, they who sleep are awaked
by the cock-crow, not by the trumpet. So shutting their ears, with loud
reproaches, to the forebodings of those who said that the Fates decreed
this to be a war of thrice nine years, the whole question having been
debated, they made a peace. And most people thought, now, indeed, they
had got an end of all their evils. And Nicias was in every man's mouth,
as one especially beloved of the gods, who, for his piety and devotion,
had been appointed to give a name to the fairest and greatest of all
blessings. For in fact they considered the peace Nicias's work, as the
war the work of Pericles; because he, on light occasions, seemed to
have plunged the Greeks into great calamities, while Nicias had induced
them to forget all the evils they had done each other and to be friends
again; and so to this day it is called the Peace of Nicias.
The articles being, that the garrisons and towns taken on either side,
and the prisoners should be restored, and they to restore the first to
whom it should fall by lot, Nicias, as Theophrastus tells us, by a sum
of money procured that the lot should fall for the Lacedaemonians to
deliver the first. Afterwards, when the Corinthians and the Boeotians
showed their dislike of what was done, and by their complaints and
accusations were wellnigh bringing the war back again, Nicias persuaded
the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians, besides the peace, to make a
treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, as a tie and confirmation
of the peace, which would make them more terrible to those that held
out, and the firmer to each other. Whilst these matters were on foot,
Alcibiades, who was no lover of tranquillity, and who was offended with
the Lacedaemonians because of their applications and attentions to
Nicias, while they overlooked and despised himself, from first to last,
indeed, had opposed the peace, though all in vain, but now finding that
the Lacedaemonians did not altogether continue to please the Athenians,
but were thought to have acted unfairly in having made a league with
the Boeotians, and had not given up Panactum, as they should have done,
with its fortifications unrazed, nor yet Amphipolis, he laid hold on
these occasions for his purpose, and availed himself of every one of
them to irritate the people. And, at length, sending for ambassadors
from the Argives, he exerted himself to effect a confederacy between
the Athenians and them. And now, when Lacedaemonian ambassadors were
come with full powers, and at their preliminary audience by the council
seemed to come in all points with just proposals, he, fearing that the
general assembly, also, would be won over to their offers, overreached
them with false professions and oaths of assistance, on the condition
that they would not avow that they came with full powers, this, he
said, being the only way for them to attain their desires. They being
overpersuaded and decoyed from Nicias to follow him, he introduced them
to the assembly, and asked them presently whether or no they came in
all points with full powers, which when they denied, he, contrary to
their expectation, changing his countenance, called the council to
witness their words, and now bade the people beware how they trust, or
transact anything with such manifest liars, who say at one time one
thing, and at another the very opposite upon the same subject. These
plenipotentiaries were, as well they might be, confounded at this, and
Nicias, also, being at a loss what to say, and struck with amazement
and wonder, the assembly resolved to send immediately for the Argives,
to enter into a league with them. An earthquake, which interrupted the
assembly, made for Nicias's advantage; and the next day the people
being again assembled, after much speaking and soliciting, with great
ado he brought it about, that the treaty with the Argives should be
deferred, and he be sent to the Lacedaemonians, in full expectation
that so all would go well.
When he arrived at Sparta, they received him there as a good man, and
one well inclined towards them; yet he effected nothing, but, baffled
by the party that favored the Boeotians, he returned home, not only
dishonored and hardly spoken of, but likewise in fear of the Athenians,
who were vexed and enraged that through his persuasions they had
released so many and such considerable persons, their prisoners, for
the men who had been brought from Pylos were of the chiefest families
of Sparta, and had those who were highest there in place and power for
their friends and kindred. Yet did they not in their heat proceed
against him, otherwise than that they chose Alcibiades general, and
took the Mantineans and Eleans, who had thrown up their alliance with
the Lacedaemonians, into the league, together with the Argives, and
sent to Pylos freebooters to infest Laconia, whereby the war began to
break out afresh.
But the enmity betwixt Nicias and Alcibiades running higher and higher,
and the time being at hand for decreeing the ostracism or banishment,
for ten years, which the people, putting the name on a sherd, were wont
to inflict at certain times on some person suspected or regarded with
jealousy for his popularity or wealth, both were now in alarm and
apprehension, one of them, in all likelihood, being to undergo this
ostracism; as the people abominated the life of Alcibiades, and stood
in fear of his boldness and resolution, as is shown particularly in the
history of him; while as for Nicias, his riches made him envied, and
his habits of living, in particular, his unsociable and exclusive ways,
not like those of a fellow-citizen, or even a fellow-man, went against
him, and having many times opposed their inclinations, forcing them
against their feelings to do what was their interest, he had got
himself disliked.
To speak plainly, it was a contest of the young men who were eager for
war, against the men of years and lovers of peace, they turning the
ostracism upon the one, these upon the other. But
In civil strife e'en villains rise to fame.
And so now it happened that the city, distracted into two factions,
allowed free course to the most impudent and profligate persons, among
whom was Hyperbolus of the Perithoedae, one who could not, indeed, be
said to be presuming upon any power, but rather by his presumption rose
into power, and by the honor he found in the city, became the scandal
of it. He, at this time, thought himself far enough from the ostracism,
as more properly deserving the slave's gallows, and made account, that
one of these men being dispatched out of the way, he might be able to
play a part against the other that should be left, and openly showed
his pleasure at the dissension, and his desire to inflame the people
against both of them. Nicias and Alcibiades, perceiving his malice,
secretly combined together, and setting both their interests jointly at
work, succeeded in fixing the ostracism not on either of them, but even
on Hyperbolus. This, indeed, at the first, made sport, and raised
laughter among the people; but afterwards it was felt as an affront,
that the thing should be dishonored by being employed upon so unworthy
a subject; punishment, also, having its proper dignity, and ostracism
being one that was appropriate rather for Thucydides, Aristides, and
such like persons; whereas for Hyperbolus it was a glory, and a fair
ground for boasting on his part, when for his villainy he suffered the
same with the best men. As Plato, the comic poet said of him,
The man deserved the fate, deny who can;
Yes, but the fate did not deserve the man;
Not for the like of him and his slave-brands,
Did Athens put the sherd into our hands.
And, in fact, none ever afterwards suffered this sort of punishment,
but Hyperbolus was the last, as Hipparchus the Cholargian, who was kin
to the tyrant, was the first.
There is no judgment to be made of fortune; nor can any reasoning bring
us to a certainty about it. If Nicias had run the risk with Alcibiades,
whether of the two should undergo the ostracism, he had either
prevailed, and, his rival being expelled the city, he had remained
secure; or, being overcome, he had avoided the utmost disasters, and
preserved the reputation of a most excellent commander. Meantime I am
not ignorant that Theophrastus says, that when Hyperbolus was banished
Phaeax, not Nicias, contested it with Alcibiades; but most authors
differ from him.
It was Alcibiades, at any rate, whom when the Aegestean and Leontine
ambassadors arrived and urged the Athenians to make an expedition
against Sicily, Nicias opposed, and by whose persuasions and ambition
he found himself overborne, who even before the people could be
assembled, had preoccupied and corrupted their judgment with hopes and
with speeches; insomuch that the young men at their sports, and the old
men in their workshops, and sitting together on the benches, would be
drawing maps of Sicily, and making charts showing the seas, the
harbors, and general character of the coast of the island opposite
Africa. For they made not Sicily the end of the war, but rather its
starting point and head-quarters from whence they might carry it to the
Carthaginians, and possess themselves of Africa, and of the seas as far
as the pillars of Hercules. The bulk of the people, therefore, pressing
this way, Nicias, who opposed them, found but few supporters, nor those
of much influence; for the men of substance, fearing lest they should
seem to shun the public charges and ship-money, were quiet against
their inclination; nevertheless he did not tire nor give it up, but
even after the Athenians decreed a war and chose him in the first place
general, together with Alcibiades and Lamachus, when they were again
assembled, he stood up, dissuaded them, and protested against the
decision, and laid the blame on Alcibiades, charging him with going
about to involve the city in foreign dangers and difficulties, merely
with a view to his own private lucre and ambition. Yet it came to
nothing. Nicias, because of his experience, was looked upon as the
fitter for the employment, and his wariness with the bravery of
Alcibiades, and the easy temper of Lamachus, all compounded together,
promised such security, that he did but confirm the resolution.
Demostratus, who, of the popular leaders, was the one who chiefly
pressed the Athenians to the expedition, stood up and said he would
stop the mouth of Nicias from urging any more excuses, and moved that
the generals should have absolute power both at home and abroad, to
order and to act as they thought best; and this vote the people passed.
The priests, however, are said to have very earnestly opposed the
enterprise. But Alcibiades had his diviners of another sort, who from
some old prophesies announced that "there shall be great fame of the
Athenians in Sicily," and messengers came back to him from Jupiter
Ammon, with oracles importing that "the Athenians shall take all the
Syracusans." Those, meanwhile, who knew anything that boded ill,
concealed it, lest they might seem to forespeak ill-luck. For even
prodigies that were obvious and plain would not deter them; not the
defacing of the Hermue, all maimed in one night except one, called the
Hermes of Andocides, erected by the tribe of Aegeus, placed directly
before the house then occupied by Andocides; nor what was perpetrated
on the altar of the twelve gods, upon which a certain man leaped
suddenly up, and then turning round, mutilated himself with a stone.
Likewise at Delphi, there stood a golden image of Minerva, set on a
palm-tree of brass, erected by the city of Athens from the spoils they
won from the Medes; this was pecked at several days together by crows
flying upon it, who, also, plucked off and knocked down the fruit, made
of gold, upon the palm-tree. But the Athenians said these were all but
inventions of the Delphians, corrupted by the men of Syracuse. A
certain oracle bade them bring from Clazomenae the priestess of Minerva
there; they sent for the woman and found her named Hesychia, Quietness,
this being, it would seem, what the divine powers advised the city at
this time, to be quiet. Whether, therefore, the astrologer Meton feared
these presages, or that from human reason he doubted its success, (for
he was appointed to a command in it,) feigning himself mad, he set his
house on fire. Others say he did not counterfeit madness, but set his
house on fire in the night, and he next morning came before the
assembly in great distress, and besought the people, in consideration
of the sad disaster, to release his son from the service, who was about
to go captain of a galley for Sicily. The genius, also, of the
philosopher Socrates, on this occasion, too, gave him intimation by the
usual tokens, that the expedition would prove the ruin of the
commonwealth; this he imparted to his friends and familiars, and by
them it was mentioned to a number of people. Not a few were troubled
because the days on which the fleet set sail happened to be the time
when the women celebrated the death of Adonis; there being everywhere
then exposed to view images of dead men, carried about with mourning
and lamentation, and women beating their breasts. So that such as laid
any stress on these matters were extremely troubled, and feared lest
that all this warlike preparation, so splendid and so glorious, should
suddenly, in a little time, be blasted in its very prime of
magnificence, and come to nothing.
Nicias, in opposing the voting of this expedition, and neither being
puffed up with hopes, nor transported with the honor of his high
command so as to modify his judgment, showed himself a man of virtue
and constancy. But when his endeavors could not divert the people from
the war, nor get leave for himself to be discharged of the command, but
the people, as it were, violently took him up and carried him, and
against his will put him in the office of general, this was no longer
now a time for his excessive caution and his delays, nor was it for
him, like a child, to look back from the ship, often repeating and
reconsidering over and over again how that his advice had not been
overruled by fair arguments, thus blunting the courage of his fellow
commanders and spoiling the season of action. Whereas, he ought
speedily to have closed with the enemy and brought the matter to an
issue, and put fortune immediately to the test in battle. But, on the
contrary, when Lamachus counseled to sail directly to Syracuse, and
fight the enemy under their city walls, and Alcibiades advised to
secure the friendship of the other towns, and then to march against
them, Nicias dissented from them both, and insisted that they should
cruise quietly around the island and display their armament, and,
having landed a small supply of men for the Egesteans, return to
Athens, weakening at once the resolution and casting down the spirits
of the men. And when, a little while after, the Athenians called home
Alcibiades in order to his trial, he being, though joined nominally
with another in commission, in effect the only general, made now no end
of loitering, of cruising, and considering, till their hopes were grown
stale, and all the disorder and consternation which the first approach
and view of their forces had cast amongst the enemy was worn off, and
had left them.
Whilst yet Alcibiades was with the fleet, they went before Syracuse
with a squadron of sixty galleys, fifty of them lying in array without
the harbor, while the other ten rowed in to reconnoiter, and by a
herald called upon the citizens of Leontini to return to their own
country. These scouts took a galley of the enemy's, in which they found
certain tablets, on which was set down a list of all the Syracusans,
according to their tribes. These were wont to be laid up at a distance
from the city, in the temple of Jupiter Olympius, but were now brought
forth for examination to furnish a muster-roll of young men for the
war. These being so taken by the Athenians, and carried to the
officers, and the multitude of names appearing, the diviners thought it
unpropitious, and were in apprehension lest this should be the only
destined fullfilment of the prophecy, that "the Athenians shall take
all the Syracusans." Yet, indeed, this was said to be accomplished by
the Athenians at another time, when Callippus the Athenian, having
slain Dion, became master of Syracuse. But when Alcibiades shortly
after sailed away from Sicily, the command fell wholly to Nicias.
Lamachus was, indeed, a brave and honest man, and ready to fight
fearlessly with his own hand in battle, but so poor and ill off, that
whenever he was appointed general, he used always, in accounting for
his outlay of public money, to bring some little reckoning or other of
money for his very clothes and shoes. On the contrary, Nicias, as on
other accounts, so, also, because of his wealth and station, was very
much thought of. The story is told that once upon a time the commission
of generals being in consultation together in their public office, he
bade Sophocles the poet give his opinion first, as the senior of the
board. "I," replied Sophocles, "am the older, but you are the senior."
And so now, also, Lamachus, who better understood military affairs,
being quite his subordinate, he himself, evermore delaying and avoiding
risk, and faintly employing his forces, first by his sailing about
Sicily at the greatest distance aloof from the enemy, gave them
confidence, then by afterwards attacking Hybla, a petty fortress, and
drawing off before he could take it, made himself utterly despised. At
the last he retreated to Catana without having achieved anything, save
that he demolished Hyocara, a humble town of the barbarians, out of
which the story goes that Lais the courtesan, yet a mere girl, was sold
amongst the other prisoners, and carried thence away to Peloponnesus.
But when the summer was spent, after reports began to reach him that
the Syracusans were grown so confident that they would come first to
attack him, and troopers skirmishing to the very camp twitted his
soldiers, asking whether they came to settle with the Catanians, or to
put the Leontines in possession of their city, at last, with much ado,
Nicias resolved to sail against Syracuse. And wishing to form his camp
safely and without molestation, he procured a man to carry from Catana
intelligence to the Syracusans that they might seize the camp of the
Athenians unprotected, and all their arms, if on such a day they should
march with all their forces to Catana; and that, the Athenians living
mostly in the town, the friends of the Syracusans had concerted, as
soon as they should perceive them coming, to possess themselves of one
of the gates, and to fire the arsenal; that many now were in the
conspiracy and awaited their arrival. This was the ablest thing Nicias
did in the whole of his conduct of the expedition. For having drawn out
all the strength of the enemy, and made the city destitute of men, he
set out from Catana, entered the harbor, and chose a fit place for his
camp, where the enemy could least incommode him with the means in which
they were superior to him, while with the means in which he was
superior to them, he might expect to carry on the war without
impediment.
When the Syracusans returned from Catana, and stood in battle array
before the city gates, he rapidly led up the Athenians and fell on them
and defeated them, but did not kill many, their horse hindering the
pursuit. And his cutting and breaking down the bridges that lay over
the river gave Hermocrates, when cheering up the Syracusans, occasion
to say, that Nicias was ridiculous, whose great aim seemed to be to
avoid fighting, as if fighting were not the thing he came for. However,
he put the Syracusans into a very great alarm and consternation, so
that instead of fifteen generals then in service, they chose three
others, to whom the people engaged by oath to allow absolute authority.
There stood near them the temple of Jupiter Olympius, which the
Athenians (there being in it many consecrated things of gold and
silver) were eager to take, but were purposely withheld from it by
Nicias, who let the opportunity slip, and allowed a garrison of the
Syracusans to enter it, judging that if the soldiers should make booty
of that wealth, it would be no advantage to the public, and he should
bear the guilt of the impiety. Not improving in the least this success,
which was everywhere famous, after a few days' stay, away he goes to
Naxos, and there winters, spending largely for the maintenance of so
great an army, and not doing anything except some matters of little
consequence with some native Sicilians that revolted to him. Insomuch
that the Syracusans took heart again, made excursions to Catana, wasted
the country, and fired the camp of the Athenians. For which everybody
blamed Nicias, who, with his long reflection, his deliberateness, and
his caution, had let slip the time for action. None ever found fault
with the man when once at work, for in the brunt he showed vigor and
activity enough, but was slow and wanted assurance to engage.
When, therefore, he brought again the army to Syracuse, such was his
conduct, and with such celerity, and at the same time security, he came
upon them, that nobody knew of his approach, when already he had come
to shore with his galleys at Thapsus, and had landed his men; and
before any could help it he had surprised Epipolae, had defeated the
body of picked men that came to its succor, took three hundred
prisoners, and routed the cavalry of the enemy, which had been thought
invincible. But what chiefly astonished the Syracusans, and seemed
incredible to the Greeks, was, in so short a space of time the walling
about of Syracuse, a town not less than Athens, and far more difficult,
by the unevenness of the ground, and the nearness of the sea and the
marshes adjacent, to have such a wall drawn in a circle round it; yet
this, all within a very little, finished by a man that had not even his
health for such weighty cares, but lay ill of the stone, which may
justly bear the blame for what was left undone. I admire the industry
of the general, and the bravery of the soldiers for what they succeeded
in. Euripides, after their ruin and disaster, writing their funeral
elegy, said that
Eight victories over Syracuse they gained, While equal yet to both the
gods remained.
And in truth one shall not find eight, but many more victories, won by
these men against the Syracusans, till the gods, in real truth, or
fortune intervened to check the Athenians in this advance to the height
of power and greatness.
Nicias, therefore, doing violence to his body, was present in most
actions. But once, when his disease was the sharpest upon him, he lay
in the camp with some few servants to attend him. And Lamachus having
the command fought the Syracusans, who were bringing a cross-wall from
the city along to that of the Athenians, to hinder them from carrying
it round; and in the victory, the Athenians hurrying in some disorder
to the pursuit, Lamachus getting separated from his men, had to resist
the Syracusan horse that came upon him. Before the rest advanced
Callicrates, a man of good courage and skill in war. Lamachus, upon a
challenge, engaged with him in single combat, and receiving the first
wound, returned it so home to Callicrates, that they both fell and died
together. The Syracusans took away his body and arms, and at full speed
advanced to the wall of the Athenians, where Nicias lay without any
troops to oppose to them, yet roused by this necessity, and seeing the
danger, he bade those about him go and set on fire all the wood and
materials that lay provided before the wall for the engines, and the
engines themselves; this put a stop to the Syracusans, saved Nicias,
saved the walls, and all the money of the Athenians. For when the
Syracusans raw such a fire blazing up between them and the wall, they
retired.
Nicias now remained sole general, and with great prospects; for cities
began to come over to alliance with him, and ships laden with corn from
every coast came to the camp, everyone favoring when matters went well.
And some proposals from among the Syracusans despairing to defend the
city, about a capitulation, were already conveyed to him. And in fact
Gylippus, who was on his way with a squadron to their aid from
Lacedaemon, hearing, on his voyage, of the wall surrounding them, and
of their distress, only continued his enterprise thenceforth, that,
giving Sicily up for lost, he might, if even that should be possible,
secure the Italians their cities. For a strong report was everywhere
spread about that the Athenians carried all before them, and had a
general alike for conduct and for fortune invincible.
And Nicias himself, too, now against his nature grown bold in his
present strength and success, especially from the intelligence he
received under hand of the Syracusans, believing they would almost
immediately surrender the town upon terms, paid no manner of regard to
Gylippus coming to their assistance, nor kept any watch of his approach
so that, neglected altogether and despised, Gylippus went in a longboat
ashore without the knowledge of Nicias, and, having landed in the
remotest parts from Syracuse, mustered up a considerable force, the
Syracusans not so much as knowing of his arrival nor expecting him; so
that an assembly was summoned to consider the terms to be arranged with
Nicias, and some were actually on the way, thinking it essential to
have all dispatched before the town should be quite walled round, for
now there remained very little to be done, and the materials for the
building lay all ready along the line.
In this very nick of time and danger arrived Gongylus in one galley
from Corinth, and everyone, as may be imagined, flocking about him, he
told them that Gylippus would be with them speedily, and that other
ships were coming to relieve them. And, ere yet they could perfectly
believe Gongylus, an express was brought from Gylippus, to bid them go
forth to meet him. So now taking good heart, they armed themselves; and
Gylippus at once led on his men from their march in battle array
against the Athenians, as Nicias also embattled these. And Gylippus,
piling his arms in view of the Athenians, sent a herald to tell them he
would give them leave to depart from Sicily without molestation. To
this Nicias would not vouchsafe any answer, but some of his soldiers
laughing asked if with the sight of one coarse coat and Laconian staff
the Syracusan prospects had become so brilliant that they could despise
the Athenians, who had released to the Lacedaemonians three hundred,
whom they held in chains, bigger men than Gylippus, and longer-haired?
Timaeus, also, writes that even the Syracusans made no account of
Gylippus, at the first sight mocking at his staff and long hair, as
afterwards they found reason to blame his covetousness and meanness.
The same author, however, adds that on Gylippus's first appearance, as
it might have been at the sight of an owl abroad in the air, there was
a general flocking together of men to serve in the war. And this is the
truer saying of the two; for in the staff and the cloak they saw the
badge and authority of Sparta, and crowded to him accordingly. And not
only Thucydides affirms that the whole thing was done by him alone, but
so, also, does Philistus, who was a Syracusan and an actual witness of
what happened.
However, the Athenians had the better in the first encounter, and slew
some few of the Syracusans, and amongst them Gongylus of Corinth. But
on the next day Gylippus showed what it is to be a man of experience;
for with the same arms, the same horses, and on the same spot of
ground, only employing them otherwise, he overcame the Athenians; and
they fleeing to their camp, he set the Syracusans to work, and with the
stone and materials that had been brought together for finishing the
wall of the Athenians, he built a cross wall to intercept theirs and
break it off, so that even if they were successful in the field, they
would not be able to do anything. And after this the Syracusans taking
courage manned their galleys, and with their horse and followers
ranging about took a good many prisoners; and Gylippus going himself to
the cities, called upon them to join with him, and was listened to and
supported vigorously by them. So that Nicias fell back again to his old
views, and, seeing the face of affairs change, desponded, and wrote to
Athens, bidding them either send another army, or recall this out of
Sicily, and that he might, in any case, be wholly relieved of the
command, because of his disease.
Before this, the Athenians had been intending to send another army to
Sicily, but envy of Nicias's early achievements and high fortune had
occasioned, up to this time, many delays; but now they were all eager
to send off succors. Eurymedon went before, in midwinter, with money,
and to announce that Euthydemus and Menander were chosen out of those
that served there under Nicias to be joint commanders with him.
Demosthenes was to go after in the spring with a great armament. In the
meantime Nicias was briskly attacked, both by sea and land; in the
beginning he had the disadvantage on the water, but in the end repulsed
and sunk many galleys of the enemy. But by land he could not provide
succor in time, so Gylippus surprised and captured Plemmyrium, in which
the stores for the navy, and a great sum of money being there kept, all
fell into his hands, and many were slain, and many taken prisoners. And
what was of greatest importance, he now cut off Nicias's supplies,
which had been safely and readily conveyed to him under Plemmyrium,
while the Athenians still held it, but now that they were beaten out,
he could only procure them with great difficulty, and with opposition
from the enemy, who lay in wait with their ships under that fort.
Moreover, it seemed manifest to the Syracusans that their navy had not
been beaten by strength, but by their disorder in the pursuit. Now,
therefore, all hands went to work to prepare for a new attempt, that
should succeed better than the former. Nicias had no wish for a
sea-fight, but said it was mere folly for them, when Demosthenes was
coming in all haste with so great a fleet and fresh forces to their
succor, to engage the enemy with a less number of ships and ill
provided. But, on the other hand, Menander and Euthydemus, who were
just commencing their new command, prompted by a feeling of rivalry and
emulation of both the generals, were eager to gain some great success
before Demosthenes came, and to prove themselves superior to Nicias.
They urged the honor of the city, which, said they, would be blemished
and utterly lost, if they should decline a challenge from the
Syracusans. Thus they forced Nicias to a sea-fight; and by the
stratagem of Ariston, the Corinthian pilot, (his trick, described by
Thucydides, about the men's dinners,) they were worsted, and lost many
of their men, causing the greatest dejection to Nicias, who had
suffered so much from having the sole command, and now again miscarried
through his colleagues.
But now, by this time, Demosthenes with his splendid fleet came in
sight outside the harbor, a terror to the enemy. He brought along, in
seventy-three galleys, five thousand men at arms; of darters, archers,
and slingers, not less than three thousand; with the glittering of
their armor, the flags waving from the galleys, the multitude of
coxswains and flute-players giving time to the rowers, setting off the
whole with all possible warlike pomp and ostentation to dismay the
enemy. Now, one may believe the Syracusans were again in extreme alarm,
seeing no end or prospect of release before them, toiling, as it
seemed, in vain, and perishing to no purpose. Nicias, however, was not
long overjoyed with the reinforcement, for the first time he conferred
with Demosthenes, who advised forthwith to attack the Syracusans, and
to put all to the speediest hazard, to win Syracuse, or else return
home, afraid, and wondering at his promptness and audacity, he besought
him to do nothing rashly and desperately, since delay would be the ruin
of the enemy, whose money would not hold out, nor their confederates be
long kept together; that when once they came to be pinched with want,
they would presently come again to him for terms, as formerly. For,
indeed, many in Syracuse held secret correspondence with him, and urged
him to stay, declaring that even now the people were quite worn out
with the war, and weary of Gylippus. And if their necessities should
the least sharpen upon them they would give up all.
Nicias glancing darkly at these matters, and unwilling to speak out
plainly, made his colleagues imagine that it was cowardice which made
him talk in this manner. And saying that this was the old story over
again, the well known procrastinations and delays and refinements with
which at first he let slip the opportunity in not immediately falling
on the enemy, but suffering the armament to become a thing of
yesterday, that nobody was alarmed with, they took the side of
Demosthenes, and with much ado forced Nicias to comply. And so
Demosthenes, taking the land-forces, by night made an assault upon
Epipolae; part of the enemy he slew ere they took the alarm, the rest
defending themselves he put to flight. Nor was he content with this
victory there, but pushed on further, till he met the Boeotians. For
these were the first that made head against the Athenians, and charged
them with a shout, spear against spear, and killed many on the place.
And now at once there ensued a panic and confusion throughout the whole
army; the victorious portion got infected with the fears of the flying
part, and those who were still disembarking and coming forward, falling
foul of the retreaters, came into conflict with their own party, taking
the fugitives for pursuers, and treating their friends as if they were
the enemy.
Thus huddled together in disorder, distracted with fear and
uncertainties, and unable to be sure of seeing anything, the night not
being absolutely dark, nor yielding any steady light, the moon then
towards setting, shadowed with the many weapons and bodies that moved
to and fro, and glimmering so as not to show an object plain, but to
make friends through fear suspected for foes, the Athenians fell into
utter perplexity and desperation. For, moreover, they had the moon at
their backs, and consequently their own shadows fell upon them, and
both hid the number and the glittering of their arms; while the
reflection of the moon from the shields of the enemy made them show
more numerous and better appointed than, indeed, they were. At last,
being pressed on every side, when once they had given way, they took to
rout, and in their flight were destroyed, some by the enemy, some by
the hand of their friends, and some tumbling down the rocks, while
those that were dispersed and straggled about were picked off in the
morning by the horsemen and put to the sword. The slain were two
thousand; and of the rest few came off safe with their arms.
Upon this disaster, which to him was not wholly an unexpected one,
Nicias accused the rashness of Demosthenes; but he, making his excuses
for the past, now advised to be gone in all haste, for neither were
other forces to come, nor could the enemy be beaten with the present.
And, indeed, even supposing they were yet too hard for the enemy in any
case, they ought to remove and quit a situation which they understood
to be always accounted a sickly one, and dangerous for an army, and was
more particularly unwholesome now, as they could see themselves,
because of the time of year. It was the beginning of autumn, and many
now lay sick, and all were out of heart.
It grieved Nicias to hear of flight and departing home, not that he did
not fear the Syracusans, but he was worse afraid of the Athenians,
their impeachments and sentences; he professed that he apprehended no
further harm there, or if it must be, he would rather die by the hand
of an enemy, than by his fellow-citizens. He was not of the opinion
which Leo of Byzantium declared to his fellow-citizens: "I had rather,"
said he, "perish by you, than with you." As to the matter of place and
quarter whither to remove their camp, that, he said, might be debated
at leisure. And Demosthenes, his former counsel having succeeded so
ill, ceased to press him further; others thought Nicias had reasons for
expectation, and relied on some assurance from people within the city,
and that this made him so strongly oppose their retreat, so they
acquiesced. But fresh forces now coming to the Syracusans, and the
sickness growing worse in his camp, he, also, now approved of their
retreat, and commanded the soldiers to make ready to go aboard.
And when all were in readiness, and none of the enemy had observed
them, not expecting such a thing, the moon was eclipsed in the night,
to the great fright of Nicias and others, who, for want of experience,
or out of superstition, felt alarm at such appearances. That the sun
might be darkened about the close of the month, this even ordinary
people now understood pretty well to be the effect of the moon; but the
moon itself to be darkened, how that could come about, and how, on the
sudden, a broad full moon should lose her light, and show such various
colors, was not easy to be comprehended; they concluded it to be
ominous, and a divine intimation of some heavy calamities. For he who
the first, and the most plainly of any, and with the greatest assurance
committed to writing how the moon is enlightened and overshadowed, was
Anaxagoras; and he was as yet but recent, nor was his argument much
known, but was rather kept secret, passing only amongst a few, under
some kind of caution and confidence. People would not then tolerate
natural philosophers, and theorists, as they then called them, about
things above; as lessening the divine power, by explaining away its
agency into the operation of irrational causes and senseless forces
acting by necessity, without anything of Providence, or a free agent.
Hence it was that Protagoras was banished, and Anaxagoras cast in
prison, so that Pericles had much difficulty to procure his liberty;
and Socrates, though he had no concern whatever with this sort of
learning, yet was put to death for philosophy. It was only afterwards
that the reputation of Plato, shining forth by his life, and because he
subjected natural necessity to divine and more excellent principles,
took away the obloquy and scandal that had attached to such
contemplations, and obtained these studies currency among all people.
So his friend Dion, when the moon, at the time he was to embark from
Zacynthus to go against Dionysius, was eclipsed, was not in the least
disturbed, but went on, and, arriving at Syracuse, expelled the tyrant.
But it so fell out with Nicias, that he had not at this time a skillful
diviner with him; his former habitual adviser who used to moderate much
of his superstition, Stilbides, had died a little before. For in fact,
this prodigy, as Philochorus observes, was not unlucky for men wishing
to fly, but on the contrary very favorable; for things done in fear
require to be hidden, and the light is their foe. Nor was it usual to
observe signs in the sun or moon more than three days, as Autoclides
states in his Commentaries. But Nicias persuaded them to wait another
full course of the moon, as if he had not seen it clear again as soon
as ever it had passed the region of shadow where the light was
obstructed by the earth.
In a manner abandoning all other cares, he betook himself wholly to his
sacrifices, till the enemy came upon them with their infantry,
besieging the forts and camp, and placing their ships in a circle about
the harbor. Nor did the men in the galleys only, but the little boys
everywhere got into the fishing-boats and rowed up and challenged the
Athenians, and insulted over them. Amongst these a youth of noble
parentage, Heraclides by name, having ventured out beyond the rest, an
Athenian ship pursued and wellnigh took him. His uncle Pollichus, in
fear for him, put out with ten galleys which he commanded, and the
rest, to relieve Pollichus, in like manner drew forth; the result of it
being a very sharp engagement, in which the Syracusans had the victory,
and slew Eurymedon, with many others. lifter this the Athenian soldiers
had no patience to stay longer, but raised an outcry against their
officers, requiring them to depart by land; for the Syracusans, upon
their victory, immediately shut and blocked up the entrance of the
harbor; but Nicias would not consent to this, as it was a shameful
thing to leave behind so many ships of burden, and galleys little less
than two hundred. Putting, therefore, on board the best of the foot,
and the most serviceable darters, they filled one hundred and ten
galleys; the rest wanted oars. The remainder of his army Nicias posted
along by the sea-side, abandoning the great camp and the fortifications
adjoining the temple of Hercules; so the Syracusans, not having for a
long time performed their usual sacrifice to Hercules, went up now,
both priests and captains, to sacrifice.
And their galleys being manned, the diviners predicted from their
sacrifices victory and glory to the Syracusans, provided they would not
be the aggressors, but fight upon the defensive; for so Hercules
overcame all, by only de. fending himself when set upon. In this
confidence they set out; and this proved the hottest and fiercest of
all their sea-fights, raising no less concern and passion in the
beholders than in the actors; as they could oversee the whole action
with all the various and unexpected turns of fortune which, in a short
space, occurred in it; the Athenians suffering no less from their own
preparations, than from the enemy; for they fought against light and
nimble ships, that could attack from any quarter, with theirs laden and
heavy. And they were thrown at with stones that fly indifferently any
way, for which they could only return darts and arrows, the direct aim
of which the motion of the water disturbed, preventing their coming
true, point foremost to their mark. This the Syracusans had learned
from Ariston the Corinthian pilot, who, fighting stoutly, fell himself
in this very engagement, when the victory had already declared for the
Syracusans.
The Athenians, their loss and slaughter being very great, their flight
by sea cut off, their safety by land so difficult, did not attempt to
hinder the enemy towing away their ships, under their eves, nor
demanded their dead, as, indeed, their want of burial seemed a less
calamity than the leaving behind the sick and wounded which they now
had before them. Yet more miserable still than those did they reckon
themselves, who were to work on yet, through more such sufferings,
after all to reach the same end.
They prepared to dislodge that night. And Gylippus and his friends
seeing the Syracusans engaged in their sacrifices and at their cups,
for their victories, and it being also a holiday, did not expect either
by persuasion or by force to rouse them up and carry them against the
Athenians as they decamped. But Hermocrates, of his own head, put a
trick upon Nicias, and sent some of his companions to him, who
pretended they came from those that were wont to hold secret
intelligence with him, and advised him not to stir that night, the
Syracusans having laid ambushes and beset the ways. Nicias, caught with
this stratagem, remained, to encounter presently in reality, what he
had feared when there was no occasion. For they, the next morning,
marching before, seized the defiles, fortified the passes where the
rivers were fordable, cut down the bridges, and ordered their horsemen
to range the plains and ground that lay open, so as to leave no part of
the country where the Athenians could move without fighting. They
stayed both that day and another night, and then went along as if they
were leaving their own, not an enemy's country, lamenting and bewailing
for want of necessaries, and for their parting from friends and
companions that were not, able to help themselves; and, nevertheless,
judging the present evils lighter than those they expected to come. But
among the many miserable spectacles that appeared up and down in the
camp, the saddest sight of all was Nicias himself, laboring under his
malady, and unworthily reduced to the scantiest supply of all the
accommodations necessary for human wants, of which he in his condition
required more than ordinary, because of his sickness; yet bearing; up
under all this illness, and doing and undergoing more than many in
perfect health. And it was plainly evident, that all this toil was not
for himself, or from any regard to his own life, but that purely for
the sake of those under his command he would not abandon hope. And,
indeed, the rest were given over to weeping and lamentation through
fear or sorrow, but he, whenever he yielded to anything of the kind,
did so, it was evident, from reflection upon the shame and dishonor of
the enterprise, contrasted with the greatness and glory of the success
he had anticipated, and not only the sight of his person, but, also,
the recollection of the arguments and the dissuasions he used to
prevent this expedition, enhanced their sense of the undeservedness of
his sufferings, nor had they any heart to put their trust in the gods,
considering that a man so religious, who had performed to the divine
powers so many and so great acts of devotion, should have no more
favorable treatment than the wickedest and meanest of the army.
Nicias, however, endeavored all the while by his voice, his
countenance, and his carriage, to show himself undefeated by these
misfortunes. And all along the way shot at, and receiving wounds eight
days continually from the enemy, he yet preserved the forces with him
in a body entire, till that Demosthenes was taken prisoner with the
party that he led, whilst they fought and made a resistance, and so got
behind and were surrounded near the country house of Polyzelus.
Demosthenes thereupon drew his sword, and wounded but did not kill
himself, the enemy speedily running in and seizing upon him. So soon as
the Syracusans had gone and informed Nicias of this, and he had sent
some horsemen, and by them knew the certainty of the defeat of that
division, he then vouchsafed to sue to Gylippus for a truce for the
Athenians to depart out of Sicily, leaving hostages for payment of the
money that the Syracusans had expended in the war.
But now they would not hear of these proposals, but threatening and
reviling them, angrily and insultingly continued to ply their missiles
at them, now destitute of every necessary. Yet Nicias still made good
his retreat all that night, and the next day, through all their darts,
made his way to the river Asinarus. There, however, the enemy
encountering them, drove some into the stream, while others ready to
die for thirst plunged in headlong, while they drank at the same time,
and were cut down by their enemies. And here was the cruelest and the
most immoderate slaughter. Till at last Nicias falling down to
Gylippus, "Let pity, O Gylippus," said he, "move you in your victory;
not for me, who was destined, it seems, to bring the glory I once had
to this end, but for the other Athenians; as you well know that the
chances of war are common to all, and the Athenians used them
moderately and mildly towards you in their prosperity."
At these words, and at the sight of Nicias, Gylippus was somewhat
troubled, for he was sensible that the Lacedaemonians had received good
offices from Nicias in the late treaty; and he thought it would be a
great and glorious thing for him to carry off the chief commanders of
the Athenians alive. He, therefore, raised Nicias with respect, and
bade him be of good cheer, and commanded his men to spare the lives of
the rest. But the word of command being communicated slowly, the slain
were a far greater number than the prisoners. Many, however, were
privily conveyed away by particular soldiers. Those taken openly were
hurried together in a mass; their arms and spoils hung up on the finest
and largest trees along the river. The conquerors, with garlands on
their heads, with their own horses splendidly adorned, and cropping
short the manes and tails of those of their enemies, entered the city,
having, in the most signal conflict ever waged by Greeks against
Greeks, and with the greatest strength and the utmost effort of valor
and manhood, won a most entire victory.
And a general assembly of the people of Syracuse and their confederates
sitting, Eurycles, the popular leader, moved, first, that the day on
which they took Nicias should from thenceforward be kept holiday by
sacrificing and forbearing all manner of work, and from the river be
called the Asinarian Feast. This was the twenty-sixth day of the month
Carneus, the Athenian Metagitnion. And that the servants of the
Athenians with the other confederates be sold for slaves, and they
themselves and the Sicilian auxiliaries be kept and employed in the
quarries, except the generals, who should be put to death. The
Syracusans favored the proposal, and when Hermocrates said, that to use
well a victory was better than to gain a victory, he was met with great
clamor and outcry. When Gylippus, also, demanded the Athenian generals
to be delivered to him, that he might carry them to the Lacedaemonians,
the Syracusans, now insolent with their good fortune, gave him ill
words. Indeed, before this, even in the war, they had been impatient at
his rough behavior and Lacedaemonian haughtiness, and had, as Timaeus
tells us, discovered sordidness and avarice in his character, vices
which may have descended to him from his father Cleandrides, who was
convicted of bribery and banished. And the very man himself, of the one
thousand talents which Lysander sent to Sparta, embezzled thirty, and
hid them under the tiles of his house, and was detected and shamefully
fled his country. But this is related more at large in the life of
Lysander. Timaeus says that Demosthenes and Nicias did not die, as
Thucydides and Philistus have written, by the order of the Syracusans,
but that upon a message sent them from Hermocrates, whilst yet the
assembly were sitting, by the connivance of some of their guards, they
were enabled to put an end to themselves. Their bodies, however, were
thrown out before the gates and offered for a public spectacle. And I
have heard that to this day in a temple at Syracuse is shown a shield,
said to have been Nicias's, curiously wrought and embroidered with gold
and purple intermixed. Most of the Athenians perished in the quarries
by diseases and ill diet, being allowed only one pint of barley every
day, and one half pint of water. Many of them, however, were carried
off by stealth, or, from the first, were supposed to be servants, and
were sold as slaves. These latter were branded on their foreheads with
the figure of a horse. There were, however, Athenians, who, in addition
to slavery, had to endure even this. But their discreet and orderly
conduct was an advantage to them; they were either soon set free, or
won the respect of their masters with whom they continued to live.
Several were saved for the sake of Euripides, whose poetry, it appears,
was in request among the Sicilians more than among any of the settlers
out of Greece. And when any travelers arrived that could tell them some
passage, or give them any specimen of his verses, they were delighted
to be able to communicate them to one another. Many of the captives who
got safe back to Athens are said, after they reached home, to have gone
and made their acknowledgments to Euripides, relating how that some of
them had been released from their slavery by teaching what they could
remember of his poems, and others, when straggling after the fight,
been relieved with meat and drink for repeating some of his lyrics. Nor
need this be any wonder, for it is told that a ship of Caunus fleeing
into one of their harbors for protection, pursued by pirates, was not
received, but forced back, till one asked if they knew any of
Euripides's verses, and on their saying they did, they were admitted,
and their ship brought into harbor.
It is said that the Athenians would not believe their loss, in a great
degree because of the person who first brought them news of it. For a
certain stranger, it seems, coming to Piraeus, and there sitting in a
barber's shop, began to talk of what had happened, as if the Athenians
already knew all that had passed; which the barber hearing, before he
acquainted anybody else, ran as fast as he could up into the city,
addressed himself to the Archons, and presently spread it about in the
public Place. On which, there being everywhere, as may be imagined,
terror and consternation, the Archons summoned a general assembly, and
there brought in the man and questioned him how he came to know. And
he, giving no satisfactory account, was taken for a spreader of false
intelligence and a disturber of the city, and was, therefore, fastened
to the wheel and racked a long time, till other messengers arrived that
related the whole disaster particularly. So hardly was Nicias believed
to have suffered the calamity which he had often predicted.
CRASSUS
Marcus Crassus, whose father had borne the office of a censor, and
received the honor of a triumph, was educated in a little house
together with his two brothers, who both married in their parents'
lifetime; they kept but one table amongst them; all which, perhaps, was
not the least reason of his own temperance and moderation in diet. One
of his brothers dying, he married his widow, by whom he had his
children; neither was there in these respects any of the Romans who
lived a more orderly life than he did, though later in life he was
suspected to have been too familiar with one of the vestal virgins,
named Licinia, who was, nevertheless, acquitted, upon an impeachment
brought against her by one Plotinus. Licinia stood possessed of a
beautiful property in the suburbs, which Crassus desiring to purchase
at a low price, for this reason was frequent in his attentions to her,
which gave occasion to the scandal, and his avarice, so to say, serving
to clear him of the crime, he was acquitted. Nor did he leave the lady
till he had got the estate.
People were wont to say that the many virtues of Crassus were darkened
by the one vice of avarice, and indeed he seemed to have no other but
that; for it being the most predominant, obscured others to which he
was inclined. The arguments in proof of his avarice were the vastness
of his estate, and the manner of raising it; for whereas at first he
was not worth above three hundred talents, yet, though in the course of
his political life he dedicated the tenth of all he had to Hercules,
and feasted the people, and gave to every citizen corn enough to serve
him three months, upon casting up his accounts, before he went upon his
Parthian expedition, he found his possessions to amount to seven
thousand one hundred talents; most of which, if we may scandal him with
a truth, he got by fire and rapine, making his advantages of the public
calamities. For when Sylla seized the city, and exposed to sale the
goods of those that he had caused to be slain, accounting them booty
and spoils, and, indeed, calling them so too, and was desirous of
making as many, and as eminent men as he could, partakers in the crime,
Crassus never was the man that refused to accept, or give money for
them. Moreover observing how extremely subject the city was to fire,
and falling down of houses, by reason of their height and their
standing so near together, he bought slaves that were builders and
architects, and when he had collected these to the number of more than
five hundred, he made it his practice to buy houses that were on fire,
and those in the neighborhood, which, in the immediate danger and
uncertainty, the proprietors were willing to part with for little, or
nothing; so that the greatest part of Rome, at one time or other, came
into his hands. Yet for all he had so many workmen, he never built
anything but his own house, and used to say that those that were
addicted to building would undo themselves soon enough without the help
of other enemies. And though he had many silver mines, and much
valuable land, and laborers to work in it, yet all this was nothing in
comparison of his slaves, such a number and variety did he possess of
excellent readers, amanuenses, silversmiths, stewards, and
table-waiters, whose instruction he always attended to himself,
superintending in person while they learned, and teaching them himself,
accounting it the main duty of a master to look over the servants, that
are, indeed, the living tools of housekeeping; and in this, indeed, he
was in the right, in thinking, that is, as he used to say, that
servants ought to look after all other things, and the master after
them. For economy, which in things inanimate is but money-making when
exercised over men becomes policy. But it was surely a mistaken
judgment, when he said no man was to be accounted rich that could not
maintain an army at his own cost and charges, for war, as Archidamus
well observed, is not fed at a fixed allowance, so that there is no
saying what wealth suffices for it, and certainly it was one very far
removed from that of Marius; for when he had distributed fourteen acres
of land a man, and understood that some desired more, "God forbid,"
said he, "that any Roman should think that too little which is enough
to keep him alive and well."
Crassus, however, was very eager to be hospitable to strangers; he kept
open house, and to his friends he would lend money without interest,
but called it in precisely at the time; so that his kindness was often
thought worse than the paying the interest would have been. His
entertainments were, for the most part, plain and citizenlike, the
company general and popular; good taste and kindness made them
pleasanter than sumptuosity would have done. As for learning, he
chiefly cared for rhetoric, and what would be serviceable with large
numbers; he became one of the best speakers at Rome, and by his pains
and industry outdid the best natural orators. For there was no trial
how mean and contemptible soever that he came to unprepared; nay,
several times he undertook and concluded a cause, when Pompey and
Caesar and Cicero refused to stand up, upon which account particularly
he got the love of the people, who looked upon him as a diligent and
careful man, ready to help and succor his fellow-citizens. Besides, the
people were pleased with his courteous and unpretending salutations and
greetings; for he never met any citizen however humble and low, but he
returned him his salute by name. He was looked upon as a man well-read
in history, and pretty well versed in Aristotle's philosophy, in which
one Alexander instructed him, a man whose intercourse with Crassus gave
a sufficient proof of his good-nature, and gentle disposition; for it
is hard to say whether he was poorer when he entered into his service,
or while he continued in it; for being his only friend that used to
accompany him when traveling, he used to receive from him a cloak for
the journey, and when he came home had it demanded from him again; poor
patient sufferer, when even the philosophy he professed did not look
upon poverty as a thing indifferent. But of this hereafter.
When Cinna and Marius got the power in their hands, it was soon
perceived that they had not come back for any good they intended to
their country, but to effect the ruin and utter destruction of the
nobility. And as many as they could lay their hands on they slew,
amongst whom were Crassus's father and brother; he himself, being very
young, for the moment escaped the danger; but understanding that he was
every way beset and hunted after by the tyrants, taking with him three
friends and ten servants, with all possible speed he fled into Spain,
having formerly been there and secured a great number of friends, while
his father was Praetor of that country. But finding all people in a
consternation, and trembling at the cruelty of Marius, as if he was
already standing over them in person, he durst not discover himself to
anybody, but hid himself in a large cave, which was by the sea-shore,
and belonged to Vibius Pacianus, to whom he sent one of his servants to
sound him, his provisions, also, beginning to fail. Vibius was well
pleased at his escape, and inquiring the place of his abode and the
number of his companions, he went not to him himself, but commanded his
steward to provide every day a good meal's meat, and carry it and leave
it near such a rock, and so return without taking any further notice or
being inquisitive, promising him his liberty if he did as he commanded,
and that he would kill him if he intermeddled. The cave is not far from
the sea; a small and insignificant looking opening in the cliffs
conducts you in; when you are entered, a wonderfully high roof spreads
above you, and large chambers open out one beyond another, nor does it
lack either water or light, for a very pleasant and wholesome spring
runs at the foot of the cliffs, and natural chinks, in the most
advantageous place, let in the light all day long; and the thickness of
the rock makes the air within pure and clear, all the wet and moisture
being carried off into the spring.
While Crassus remained here, the steward brought them what was
necessary, but never saw them, nor knew anything of the matter, though
they within saw, and expected him at the customary times. Neither was
their entertainment such as just to keep them alive, but given them in
abundance and for their enjoyment; for Pacianus resolved to treat him
with all imaginable kindness, and considering he was a young man,
thought it well to gratify a little his youthful inclinations; for to
give just what is needful, seems rather to come from necessity than
from a hearty friendship. Once taking with him two female servants, he
showed them the place and bade them go in boldly, whom when Crassus and
his friends saw, they were afraid of being betrayed, and demanded what
they were, and what they would have. They, according as they were
instructed, answered, they came to wait upon their master who was hid
in that cave. And so Crassus perceiving it was a piece of pleasantry
and of goodwill on the part of Vibius, took them in and kept them there
with him as long as he stayed, and employed them to give information to
Vibius of what they wanted, and how they were. Fenestella says he saw
one of them, then very old, and often heard her speak of the time and
repeat the story with pleasure.
After Crassus had lain concealed there eight months, on hearing that
Cinna was dead, he appeared abroad, and a great number of people
flocking to him, out of whom he selected a body of two thousand five
hundred, he visited many cities, and, as some write, sacked Malaca,
which he himself, however, always denied, and contradicted all who said
so. Afterwards, getting together some ships, he passed into Africa, and
joined with Metellus Pius, an eminent person that had raised a very
considerable force; but upon some difference between him and Metellus,
he stayed not long there, but went over to Sylla, by whom he was very
much esteemed. When Sylla passed over into Italy, he was anxious to put
all the young men that were with him in employment; and as he
dispatched some one way, and some another, Crassus, on its falling to
his share to raise men among the Marsians, demanded a guard, being to
pass through the enemy's country, upon which Sylla replied sharply, "I
give you for guard your father, your brother, your friends and kindred,
whose unjust and cruel murder I am now going to revenge;" and Crassus,
being nettled, went his way, broke boldly through the enemy, collected
a considerable force, and in all Sylla's wars acted with great zeal and
courage. And in these times and occasions, they say, began the
emulation and rivalry for glory between him and Pompey; for though
Pompey was the younger man, and had the disadvantage to be descended of
a father that was disesteemed by the citizens, and hated as much as
ever man was, yet in these actions he shone out, and was proved so
great, that Sylla always used, when he came in, to stand up and uncover
his head, an honor which he seldom showed to older men and his own
equals, and always saluted him Imperator. This fired and stung Crassus,
though, indeed, he could not with any fairness claim to be preferred;
for he both wanted experience, and his two innate vices, sordidness and
avarice, tarnished all the lustre of his actions. For when he had taken
Tudertia, a town of the Umbrians, he converted, it was said, all the
spoil to his own use, for which he was complained of to Sylla. But in
the last and greatest battle before Rome itself, where Sylla was
worsted, some of his battalions giving ground, and others being quite
broken, Crassus got the victory on the right wing, which he commanded,
and pursued the enemy till night, and then sent to Sylla to acquaint
him with his success, and demand provision for his soldiers. In the
time, however, of the proscriptions and sequestrations, he lost his
repute again, by making great purchases for little or nothing, and
asking for grants. Nay, they say he proscribed one of the Bruttians
without Sylla's order, only for his own profit, and that, on
discovering this, Sylla never after trusted him in any public affairs.
As no man was more cunning than Crassus to ensnare others by flattery,
so no man lay more open to it, or swallowed it more greedily than
himself. And this particularly was observed of him, that though he was
the most covetous man in the world, yet he habitually disliked and
cried out against others who were so.
It troubled him to see Pompey so successful in all his undertakings;
that he had had a triumph before he was capable to sit in the senate,
and that the people had surnamed him Magnus, or the Great. When
somebody was saying Pompey the Great was coming, he smiled, and asked
him, "How big is he?" Despairing to equal him by feats of arms, he
betook himself to civil life, where by doing kindnesses, pleading,
lending money, by speaking and canvassing among the people for those
who had objects to obtain from them, he gradually gained as great honor
and power as Pompey had from his many famous expeditions. And it was a
curious thing in their rivalry, that Pompey's name and interest in the
city was greatest when he was absent, for his renown in war, but when
present he was often less successful than Crassus, by reason of his
superciliousness and haughty way of living, shunning crowds of people,
and appearing rarely in the forum, and assisting only some few, and
that not readily, that his interest might be the stronger when he came
to use it for himself. Whereas Crassus, being a friend always at hand,
ready to be had and easy of access, and always with his hands full of
other people's business, with his freedom and courtesy, got the better
of Pompey's formality. In point of dignity of person, eloquence of
language, and attractiveness of countenance, they were pretty equally
excellent. But, however, this emulation never transported Crassus so
far as to make him bear enmity, or any ill-will; for though he was
vexed to see Pompey and Caesar preferred to him, yet he never minded
any hostility or malice with his jealousy; though Caesar when he was
taken captive by the corsairs in Asia, cried out, "O Crassus, how glad
you will be at the news of my captivity!" Afterwards they lived
together on friendly terms, for when Caesar was going praetor into
Spain, and his creditors, he being then in want of money, came upon him
and seized his equipage, Crassus then stood by him and relieved him,
and was his security for eight hundred and thirty talents. And, in
general, Rome being divided into three great interests, those of
Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus, (for as for Cato, his fame was greater
than his power, and he was rather admired than followed,) the sober and
quiet part were for Pompey, the restless and hotheaded followed
Caesar's ambition, but Crassus trimmed between them, making advantages
of both, and changed sides continually, being neither a trusty friend
nor an implacable enemy, and easily abandoned both his attachments and
his animosities, as he found it for his advantage, so that in short
spaces of time, the same men and the same measures had him both as
their supporter and as their opponent. He was much liked, but was
feared as much or even more. At any rate, when Sicinius, who was the
greatest troubler of the magistrates and ministers of his time, was
asked how it was he let Crassus alone, "Oh," said he, "he carries hay
on his horns," alluding to the custom of tying hay to the horns of a
bull that used to butt, that people might keep out of his way.
The insurrection of the gladiators and the devastation of Italy,
commonly called the war of Spartacus, began upon this occasion. One
Lentulus Batiates trained up a great many gladiators in Capua, most of
them Gauls and Thracians, who, not for any fault by them committed, but
simply through the cruelty of their master, were kept in confinement
for this object of fighting one with another. Two hundred of these
formed a plan to escape, but their plot being discovered, those of them
who became aware of it in time to anticipate their master, being
seventy-eight, got out of a cook's shop chopping-knives and spits, and
made their way through the city, and lighting by the way on several
wagons that were carrying gladiator's arms to another city, they seized
upon them and armed themselves. And seizing upon a defensible place,
they chose three captains, of whom Spartacus was chief, a Thracian of
one of the nomad tribes, and a man not only of high spirit and valiant,
but in understanding, also, and in gentleness, superior to his
condition, and more of a Grecian than the people of his country usually
are. When he first came to be sold at Rome, they say a snake coiled
itself upon his face as he lay asleep, and his wife, who at this latter
time also accompanied him in his flight, his country-woman, a kind of
prophetess, and one of those possessed with the bacchanal frenzy,
declared that it was a sign portending great and formidable power to
him with no happy event.
First, then, routing those that came out of Capua against them, and
thus procuring a quantity of proper soldiers' arms, they gladly threw
away their own as barbarous and dishonorable. Afterwards Clodius, the
praetor, took the command against them with a body of three thousand
men from Rome, and besieged them within a mountain, accessible only by
one narrow and difficult passage, which Clodius kept guarded,
encompassed on all other sides with steep and slippery precipices. Upon
the top, however, grew a great many wild vines, and cutting down as
many of their boughs as they had need of, they twisted them into strong
ladders long enough to reach from thence to the bottom, by which,
without any danger, they got down all but one, who stayed there to
throw them down their arms, and after this succeeded in saving himself.
The Romans were ignorant of all this, and, therefore, coming upon them
in the rear, they assaulted them unawares and took their camp. Several,
also, of the shepherds and herdsman that were there, stout and nimble
fellows, revolted over to them, to some of whom they gave complete
arms, and made use of others as scouts and light-armed soldiers.
Publius Varinus, the praetor, was now sent against them, whose
lieutenant, Furius, with two thousand men, they fought and routed. Then
Cossinius was sent, with considerable forces, to give his assistance
and advice, and him Spartacus missed but very little of capturing in
person, as he was bathing at Salinae; for he with great difficulty made
his escape, while Spartacus possessed himself of his baggage, and
following the chase with a great slaughter, stormed his camp and took
it, where Cossinius himself was slain. After many successful skirmishes
with the praetor himself, in one of which he took his lictors and his
own horse, he began to be great and terrible; but wisely considering
that he was not to expect to match the force of the empire, he marched
his army towards the Alps, intending, when he had passed them, that
every man should go to his own home, some to Thrace, some to Gaul. But
they, grown confident in their numbers, and puffed up with their
success, would give no obedience to him, but went about and ravaged
Italy; so that now the senate was not only moved at the indignity and
baseness, both of the enemy and of the insurrection, but, looking upon
it as a matter of alarm and of dangerous consequence, sent out both the
consuls to it, as to a great and difficult enterprise. The consul
Gellius, falling suddenly upon a party of Germans, who through contempt
and confidence had straggled from Spartacus, cut them all to pieces.
But when Lentulus with a large army besieged Spartacus, he sallied out
upon him, and, joining battle, defeated his chief officers, and
captured all his baggage. As he made toward the Alps, Cassius, who was
praetor of that part of Gaul that lies about the Po, met him with ten
thousand men, but being overcome in battle, he had much ado to escape
himself, with the loss of a great many of his men.
When the senate understood this, they were displeased at the consuls,
and ordering them to meddle no further, they appointed Crassus general
of the war, and a great many of the nobility went volunteers with him,
partly out of friendship, and partly to get honor. He stayed himself on
the borders of Picenum, expecting Spartacus would come that way, and
sent his lieutenant, Mummius, with two legions, to wheel about and
observe the enemy's motions, but upon no account to engage or skirmish.
But he, upon the first opportunity, joined battle, and was routed,
having a great many of his men slain, and a great many only saving
their lives, with the loss of their arms. Crassus rebuked Mummius
severely, and arming the soldiers again, he made them find sureties for
their arms, that they would part with them no more, and five hundred
that were the beginners of the flight, he divided into fifty tens, and
one of each was to die by lot, thus reviving the ancient Roman
punishment of decimation, where ignominy is added to the penalty of
death, with a variety of appalling and terrible circumstances,
presented before the eyes of the whole army, assembled as spectators.
When he had thus reclaimed his men, he led them against the enemy; but
Spartacus retreated through Lucania toward the sea, and in the straits
meeting with some Cilician pirate ships, he had thoughts of attempting
Sicily, where, by landing two thousand men, he hoped to new kindle the
war of the slaves, which was but lately extinguished, and seemed to
need but a little fuel to set it burning again. But after the pirates
had struck a bargain with him, and received his earnest, they deceived
him and sailed away. He thereupon retired again from the sea, and
established his army in the peninsula of Rhegium; there Crassus came
upon him, and considering the nature of the place, which of itself
suggested the undertaking, he set to work to build a wall across the
isthmus; thus keeping his soldiers at once from idleness, and his foes
from forage. This great and difficult work he perfected in a space of
time short beyond all expectation, making a ditch from one sea to the
other, over the neck of land, three hundred furlongs long, fifteen feet
broad, and as much in depth, and above it built a wonderfully high and
strong wall. All which Spartacus at first slighted and despised, but
when provisions began to fail, and on his proposing to pass further, he
found he was walled in, and no more was to be had in the peninsula,
taking the opportunity of a snowy, stormy night, he filled up part of
the ditch with earth and boughs of trees, and so passed the third part
of his army over.
Crassus was afraid lest he should march directly to Rome, but was soon
eased of that fear when he saw many of his men break out in a mutiny
and quit him, and encamp by themselves upon the Lucanian lake. This
lake they say changes at intervals of time, and is sometimes sweet, and
sometimes so salt that it cannot be drunk. Crassus falling upon these
beat them from the lake, but he could not pursue the slaughter, because
of Spartacus suddenly coming up, and checking the flight. Now he began
to repent that he had previously written to the senate to call Lucullus
out of Thrace, and Pompey out of Spain; so that he did all he could to
finish the war before they came, knowing that the honor of the action
would redound to him that came to his assistance. Resolving, therefore,
first to set upon those that had mutinied and encamped apart, whom
Caius Cannicius and Castus commanded, he sent six thousand men before
to secure a little eminence, and to do it as privately as possible,
which that they might do, they covered their helmets, but being
discovered by two women that were sacrificing for the enemy, they had
been in great hazard, had not Crassus immediately appeared, and engaged
in a battle which proved a most bloody one. Of twelve thousand three
hundred whom he killed, two only were found wounded in their backs, the
rest all having died standing in their ranks, and fighting bravely.
Spartacus, after this discomfiture, retired to the mountains of
Petelia, but Quintius, one of Crassus's officers, and Scrofa, the
quaestor, pursued and overtook him. But when Spartacus rallied and
faced them, they were utterly routed and fled, and had much ado to
carry off their quaestor, who was wounded. This success, however,
ruined Spartacus, because it encouraged the slaves, who now disdained
any longer to avoid fighting, or to obey their officers, but as they
were upon their march, they came to them with their swords in their
hand, and compelled them to lead them back again through Lucania,
against the Romans, the very thing which Crassus was eager for. For
news was already brought that Pompey was at hand; and people began to
talk openly, that the honor of this war was reserved for him, who would
come and at once oblige the enemy to fight and put an end to the war.
Crassus, therefore, eager to fight a decisive battle, encamped very
near the enemy, and began to make lines of circumvallation; but the
slaves made a sally, and attacked the pioneers. As fresh supplies came
in on either side, Spartacus, seeing there was no avoiding it, set all
his army in array, and when his horse was brought him, he drew out his
sword and killed him, saying, if he got the day, he should have a great
many better horses of the enemies, and if he lost it, he should have no
need of this. And so making directly towards Crassus himself, through
the midst of arms and wounds, he missed him, hut slew two centurions
that fell upon him together. At last being deserted by those that were
about him, he himself stood his ground, and, surrounded by the enemy,
bravely defending himself, was cut in pieces. But though Crassus had
good fortune, and not only did the part of a good general, but
gallantly exposed his person, yet Pompey had much of the credit of the
action. For he met with many of the fugitives, and slew them, and wrote
to the senate that Crassus indeed had vanquished the slaves in a
pitched battle, but that he had put an end to the war. Pompey was
honored with a magnificent triumph for his conquest over Sertorius and
Spain, while Crassus could not himself so much as desire a triumph in
its full form, and indeed it was thought to look but meanly in him to
accept of the lesser honor, called the ovation, for a servile war, and
perform a procession on foot. The difference between this and the
other, and the origin of the name, are explained in the life of
Marcellus.
And Pompey being immediately invited to the consulship, Crassus, who
had hoped to be joined with him, did not scruple to request his
assistance. Pompey most readily seized the opportunity, as he desired
by all means to lay some obligation upon Crassus, and zealously
promoted his interest; and at last he declared in one of his speeches
to the people, that he should be not less beholden to them for his
colleague, than for the honor of his own appointment. But once entered
upon the employment, this amity continued not long; but differing
almost in everything, disagreeing, quarreling, and contending, they
spent the time of their consulship, without effecting any measure of
consequence, except that Crassus made a great sacrifice to Hercules,
and feasted the people at ten thousand tables, and measured them out
corn for three months. When their command was now ready to expire, and
they were, as it happened addressing the people, a Roman knight, one
Onatius Aurelius, an ordinary private person, living in the country,
mounted the hustings, and declared a vision he had in his sleep:
"Jupiter," said he, "appeared to me, and commanded me to tell you, that
you should not suffer your consuls to lay down their charge before they
are made friends." When he had spoken, the people cried out that they
should be reconciled. Pompey stood still and said nothing, but Crassus,
first offering him his hand, said, "I cannot think, my countrymen, that
I do any thing humiliating or unworthy of myself, if I make the first
offers of accommodation and friendship with Pompey, whom you yourselves
styled the Great, before he was of man's estate, and decreed him a
triumph before he was capable of sitting in the senate."
This is what was memorable in Crassus's consulship, but as for his
censorship, that was altogether idle and inactive, for he neither made
a scrutiny of the senate, nor took a review of the horsemen, nor a
census of the people, though he had as mild a man as could be desired
for his colleague, Lutatius Catulus. It is said, indeed, that when
Crassus intended a violent and unjust measure, which was the reducing
Egypt to be tributary to Rome, Catulus strongly opposed it, and falling
out about it, they laid down their office by consent. In the great
conspiracy of Catiline, which was very near subverting the government,
Crassus was not without some suspicion of being concerned, and one man
came forward and declared him to be in the plot; but nobody credited
him. Yet Cicero, in one of his orations, clearly charges both Crassus
and Caesar with the guilt of it, though that speech was not published
till they were both dead. But in his speech upon his consulship, he
declares that Crassus came to him by night, and brought a letter
concerning Catiline, stating the details of the conspiracy. Crassus
hated him ever after, but was hindered by his son from doing him any
open injury; for Publius was a great lover of learning and eloquence,
and a constant follower of Cicero, insomuch that he put himself into
mourning when he was accused, and induced the other young men to do the
same. And at last he reconciled him to his father.
Caesar now returning from his command, and designing to get the
consulship, and seeing that Crassus and Pompey were again at variance,
was unwilling to disoblige one by making application to the other, and
despaired of success without the help of one of them; he therefore made
it his business to reconcile them, making it appear that by weakening
each other's influence they were promoting the interest of the Ciceros,
the Catuli, and the Catos, who would really be of no account if they
would join their interests and their factions, and act together in
public with one policy and one united power. And so reconciling them by
his persuasions, out of the three parties he set up one irresistible
power, which utterly subverted the government both of senate and
people. Not that he made either Pompey or Crassus greater than they
were before, but by their means made himself greatest of all; for by
the help of the adherents of both, he was at once gloriously declared
consul, which office when he administered with credit, they decreed him
the command of an army, and allotted him Gaul for his province, and so
placed him as it were in the citadel, not doubting but they should
divide the rest at their pleasure between themselves, when they had
confirmed him in his allotted command. Pompey was actuated in all this
by an immoderate desire of ruling, but Crassus, adding to his old
disease of covetousness, a new passion after trophies and triumphs,
emulous of Caesar's exploits, not content to be beneath him in these
points, though above him in all others, could not be at rest, till it
ended in an ignominious overthrow, and a public calamity. When Caesar
came out of Gaul to Lucca, a great many went thither from Rome to meet
him. Pompey and Crassus had various conferences with him in secret, in
which they came to the resolution to proceed to still more decisive
steps, and to get the whole management of affairs into their hands,
Caesar to keep his army, and Pompey and Crassus to obtain new ones and
new provinces. To effect all which there was but one way, the getting
the consulate a second time, which they were to stand for, and Caesar
to assist them by writing to his friends, and sending many of his
soldiers to vote.
But when they returned to Rome, their design was presently suspected,
and a report was soon spread that this interview had been for no good.
When Marcellinus and Domitius asked Pompey in the senate if he intended
to stand for the consulship, he answered, perhaps he would, perhaps
not; and being urged again, replied, he would ask it of the honest
citizens, but not of the dishonest. Which answer appearing too haughty
and arrogant, Crassus said, more modestly, that he would desire it if
it might be for the advantage of the public, otherwise he would decline
it. Upon this some others took confidence and came forward as
candidates, among them Domitius. But when Pompey and Crassus now openly
appeared for it, the rest were afraid and drew back; only Cato
encouraged Domitius, who was his friend and relation, to proceed,
exciting him to persist, as though he was now defending the public
liberty, as these men, he said, did not so much aim at the consulate,
as at arbitrary government, and it was not a petition for office, but a
seizure of provinces and armies. Thus spoke and thought Cato, and
almost forcibly compelled Domitius to appear in the forum, where many
sided with them. For there was, indeed, much wonder and question among
the people, "Why should Pompey and Crassus want another consulship? and
why they two together, and not with some third person? We have a great
many men not unworthy to be fellow-consuls with either the one or the
other." Pompey's party, being apprehensive of this, committed all
manner of indecencies and violences, and amongst other things lay in
wait for Domitius, as he was coming thither before daybreak with his
friends; his torchbearer they killed, and wounded several others, of
whom Cato was one. And these being beaten back and driven into a house,
Pompey and Crassus were proclaimed consuls. Not long after, they
surrounded the house with armed men, thrust Cato out of the forum,
killed some that made resistance, and decreed Caesar his command for
five years longer, and provinces for themselves, Syria, and both the
Spains, which being divided by lots, Syria fell to Crassus, and the
Spains to Pompey.
All were well pleased with the chance, for the people were desirous
that Pompey should not go far from the city, and he, being extremely
fond of his wife, was very glad to continue there; but Crassus was so
transported with his fortune, that it was manifest he thought he had
never had such good luck befall him as now, so that he had much to do
to contain himself before company and strangers; but amongst his
private friends he let fall many vain and childish words, which were
unworthy of his age, and contrary to his usual character, for he had
been very little given to boasting hitherto. But then being strangely
puffed up, and his head heated, he would not limit his fortune with
Parthia and Syria; but looking on the actions of Lucullus against
Tigranes and the exploits of Pompey against Mithridates as but child's
play, he proposed to himself in his hopes to pass as far as Bactria and
India, and the utmost ocean. Not that he was called upon by the decree
which appointed him to his office to undertake any expedition against
the Parthians, but it was well known that he was eager for it, and
Caesar wrote to him out of Gaul, commending his resolution, and
inciting him to the war. And when Ateius, the tribune of the people,
designed to stop his journey, and many others murmured that one man
should undertake a war against a people that had done them no injury,
and were at amity with them, he desired Pompey to stand by him and
accompany him out of the town, as he had a great name amongst the
common people. And when several were ready prepared to interfere and
raise an outcry, Pompey appeared with a pleasing countenance, and so
mollified the people, that they let Crassus pass quietly. Ateius,
however, met him, and first by word of mouth warned and conjured him
not to proceed, and then commanded his attendant officer to seize him
and detain him; but the other tribunes not permitting it, the officer
released Crassus. Ateius, therefore, running to the gate, when Crassus
was come thither, set down a chafing-dish with lighted fire in it, and
burning incense and pouring libations on it, cursed him with dreadful
imprecations, calling upon and naming several strange and horrible
deities. In the Roman belief there is so much virtue in these sacred
and ancient rites, that no man can escape the effects of them, and that
the utterer himself seldom prospers; so that they are not often made
use of, and but upon a great occasion. And Ateius was blamed at the
time for resorting to them, as the city itself, in whose cause he used
them, would be the first to feel the ill effects of these curses and
supernatural terrors.
Crassus arrived at Brundusium, and though the sea was very rough, he
had not patience to wait, but went on board, and lost many of his
ships. With the remnant of his army he marched rapidly through Galatia,
where meeting with king Deiotarus, who, though he was very old, was
about building a new city, Crassus scoffingly told him, "Your majesty
begins to build at the twelfth hour." "Neither do you," said he, "O
general, undertake your Parthian expedition very early." For Crassus
was then sixty years old, and he seemed older than he was. At his first
coming, things went as he would have them, for he made a bridge over
Euphrates without much difficulty, and passed over his army in safety,
and occupied many cities of Mesopotamia, which yielded voluntarily. But
a hundred of his men were killed in one, in which Apollonius was
tyrant; therefore, bringing his forces against it, he took it by storm,
plundered the goods, and sold the inhabitants. The Greeks call this
city Zenodotia, upon the taking of which, he permitted the army to
salute him Imperator, but this was very ill thought of, and it looked
as if he despaired a nobler achievement, that he made so much of this
little success. Putting garrisons of seven thousand foot and one
thousand horse in the new conquests, he returned to take up his winter
quarters in Syria, where his son was to meet him coming from Caesar out
of Gaul, decorated with rewards for his valor, and bringing with him
one thousand select horse. Here Crassus seemed to commit his first
error, and except, indeed, the whole expedition, his greatest; for,
whereas he ought to have gone forward and seized Babylon and Seleucia,
cities that were ever at enmity with the Parthians, he gave the enemy
time to provide against him. Besides, he spent his time in Syria more
like an usurer than a general, not in taking an account of the arms,
and in improving the skill and discipline of his soldiers, but in
computing the revenue of the cities, wasting many days in weighing by
scale and balance the treasure that was in the temple of Hierapolis,
issuing requisitions for levies of soldiers upon particular towns and
kingdoms, and then again withdrawing them on payment of sums of money,
by which he lost his credit and became despised. Here, too, he met with
the first ill-omen from that goddess, whom some call Venus, others
Juno, others Nature, or the Cause that produces out of moisture the
first principles and seeds of all things, and gives mankind their
earliest knowledge of all that is good for them. For as they were going
out of the temple, young Crassus stumbled, and his father fell upon him.
When he drew his army out of winter quarters, ambassadors came to him
from Arsaces, with this short speech: If the army was sent by the
people of Rome, he denounced mortal war, but if, as he understood was
the case, against the consent of his country, Crassus for his own
private profit had invaded his territory, then their king would be more
merciful, and taking pity upon Crassus's dotage, would send those
soldiers back, who had been left not so truly to keep guard on him as
to be his prisoners. Crassus boastfully told them he would return his
answer at Seleucia, upon which Vagises, the eldest of them, laughed and
showed the palm of his hand, saying, "Hail will grow here before you
will see Seleucia;" so they returned to their king, Hyrodes, telling
him it was war. Several of the Romans that were in garrison in
Mesopotamia with great hazard made their escape, and brought word that
the danger was worth consideration, urging their own eye-witness of the
numbers of the enemy, and the manner of their fighting, when they
assaulted their towns; and, as men's manner is, made all seem greater
than really it was. By flight it was impossible to escape them, and as
impossible to overtake them when they fled, and they had a new and
strange sort of darts, as swift as sight, for they pierced whatever
they met with, before you could see who threw; their men-at-arms were
so provided that their weapons would cut through anything, and their
armor give way to nothing. All which when the soldiers heard, their
hearts failed them; for till now they thought there was no difference
between the Parthians and the Armenians or Cappadocians, whom Lucullus
grew weary with plundering, and had been persuaded that the main
difficulty of the war consisted only in the tediousness of the march,
and the trouble of chasing men that durst not come to blows, so that
the danger of a battle was beyond their expectation; accordingly, some
of the officers advised Crassus to proceed no further at present, but
reconsider the whole enterprise, amongst whom in particular was
Cassius, the quaestor. The soothsayers, also, told him privately the
signs found in the sacrifices were continually adverse and unfavorable.
But he paid no heed to them, or to anybody who gave any other advice
than to proceed. Nor did Artabazes, king of Armenia, confirm him a
little, who came to his aid with six thousand horse; who, however, were
said to be only the king's life-guard and suite, for he promised ten
thousand cuirassiers more, and thirty thousand foot, at his own charge.
He urged Crassus to invade Parthia by the way of Armenia, for not only
would he be able there to supply his army with abundant provision,
which he would give him, but his passage would be more secure in the
mountains and hills, with which the whole country was covered, making
it almost impassable to horse, in which the main strength of the
Parthians consisted. Crassus returned him but cold thanks for his
readiness to serve him, and for the splendor of his assistance, and
told him he was resolved to pass through Mesopotamia, where he had left
a great many brave Roman soldiers; whereupon the Armenian went his way.
As Crassus was taking the army over the river at Zeugma, he encountered
preternaturally violent thunder, and the lightning flashed in the faces
of the troops, and during the storm a hurricane broke upon the bridge,
and carried part of it away; two thunderbolts fell upon the very place
where the army was going to encamp; and one of the general's horses,
magnificently caparisoned, dragged away the groom into the river and
was drowned. It is said, too, that when they went to take up the first
standard, the eagle of itself turned its head backward; and after he
had passed over his army, as they were distributing provisions, the
first thing they gave was lentils and salt, which with the Romans are
the food proper to funerals, and are offered to the dead. And as
Crassus was haranguing his soldiers, he let fall a word which was
thought very ominous in the army; for "I am going," he said, "to break
down the bridge, that none of you may return;" and whereas he ought,
when he had perceived his blunder, to have corrected himself, and
explained his meaning, seeing the men alarmed at the expression, he
would not do it out of mere stubbornness. And when at the last general
sacrifice the priest gave him the entrails, they slipped out of his
hand, and when he saw the standers-by concerned at it, he laughed and
said, "See what it is to be an old man; but I shall hold my sword fast
enough."
So he marched his army along the river with seven legions, little less
than four thousand horse, and as many light-armed soldiers, and the
scouts returning declared that not one man appeared, but that they saw
the footing of a great many horses which seemed to be retiring in
flight, whereupon Crassus conceived great hopes, and the Romans began
to despise the Parthians, as men that would not come to combat, hand to
hand. But Cassius spoke with him again, and advised him to refresh his
army in some of the garrison towns, and remain there till they could
get some certain intelligence of the enemy, or at least to make toward
Seleucia, and keep by the river, that so they might have the
convenience of having provision constantly supplied by the boats, which
might always accompany the army, and the river would secure them from
being environed, and, if they should fight, it might be upon equal
terms.
While Crassus was still considering, and as yet undetermined, there
came to the camp an Arab chief named Ariamnes, a cunning and wily
fellow, who, of all the evil chances which combined to lead them on to
destruction, was the chief and the most fatal. Some of Pompey's old
soldiers knew him, and remembered him to have received some kindnesses
of Pompey, and to have been looked upon as a friend to the Romans, but
he was now suborned by the king's generals, and sent to Crassus to
entice him if possible from the river and hills into the wide open
plain, where he might be surrounded. For the Parthians desired
anything, rather than to be obliged to meet the Romans face to face.
He, therefore, coming to Crassus, (and he had a persuasive tongue,)
highly commended Pompey as his benefactor, and admired the forces that
Crassus had with him, but seemed to wonder why he delayed and made
preparations, as if he should not use his feet more than any arms,
against men that, taking with them their best goods and chattels, had
designed long ago to fly for refuge to the Scythians or Hyrcanians. "If
you meant to fight, you should have made all possible haste, before the
king should recover courage, and collect his forces together; at
present you see Surena and Sillaces opposed to you, to draw you off in
pursuit of them, while the king himself keeps out of the way." But this
was all a lie, for Hyrodes had divided his army in two parts, with one
he in person wasted Armenia, revenging himself upon Artavasdes, and
sent Surena against the Romans, not out of contempt, as some pretend,
for there is no likelihood that he should despise Crassus, one of the
chiefest men of Rome, to go and fight with Artavasdes, and invade
Armenia; but much more probably he really apprehended the danger, and
therefore waited to see the event, intending that Surena should first
run the hazard of a battle, and draw the enemy on. Nor was this Surena
an ordinary person, but in wealth, family, and reputation, the second
man in the kingdom, and in courage and prowess the first, and for
bodily stature and beauty no man like him. Whenever he traveled
privately, he had one thousand camels to carry his baggage, two hundred
chariots for his concubines, one thousand completely armed men for his
life-guards, and a great many more light-armed; and he had at least ten
thousand horsemen altogether, of his servants and retinue. The honor
had long belonged to his family, that at the king's coronation he put
the crown upon his head, and when this very king Hyrodes had been
exiled, he brought him in; it was he, also, that took the great city of
Seleucia, was the first man that scaled the walls, and with his own
hand beat off the defenders. And though at this time he was not above
thirty years old, he had a great name for wisdom and sagacity, and,
indeed, by these qualities chiefly, he overthrew Crassus, who first
through his overweening confidence, and afterwards because he was cowed
by his calamities, fell a ready victim to his subtlety. When Ariamnes
had thus worked upon him, he drew him from the river into vast plains,
by a way that at first was pleasant and easy, but afterwards very
troublesome by reason of the depth of the sand; no tree, nor any water,
and no end of this to be seen; so that they were not only spent with
thirst, and the difficulty of the passage, but were dismayed with the
uncomfortable prospect of not a bough, not a stream, not a hillock, not
a green herb, but in fact a sea of sand, which encompassed the army
with its waves. They began to suspect some treachery, and at the same
time came messengers from Artavasdes, that he was fiercely attacked by
Hyrodes, who had invaded his country, so that now it was impossible for
him to send any succors, and that he therefore advised Crassus to turn
back, and with joint forces to give Hyrodes battle, or at least that he
should march and encamp where horses could not easily come, and keep to
the mountains. Crassus, out of anger and perverseness, wrote him no
answer, but told them, at present he was not at leisure to mind the
Armenians, but he would call upon them another time, and revenge
himself upon Artavasdes for his treachery. Cassius and his friends
began again to complain, but when they perceived that it merely
displeased Crassus, they gave over, but privately railed at the
barbarian, "What evil genius, O thou worst of men, brought thee to our
camp, and with what charms and potions hast thou bewitched Crassus,
that he should march his army through a vast and deep desert, through
ways which are rather fit for a captain of Arabian robbers, than for
the general of a Roman army?" But the barbarian being a wily fellow,
very submissively exhorted them, and encouraged them to sustain it a
little further, and ran about the camp, and, professing to cheer up the
soldiers, asked them, jokingly, "What, do you think you march through
Campania, expecting everywhere to find springs, and shady trees, and
baths, and inns of entertainment? Consider you now travel through the
confines of Arabia and Assyria." Thus he managed them like children,
and before the cheat was discovered, he rode away; not but that Crassus
was aware of his going, but he had persuaded him that he would go and
contrive how to disorder the affairs of the enemy.
It is related that Crassus came abroad that day not in his scarlet
robe, which Roman generals usually wear, but in a black one, which, as
soon as he perceived, he changed. And the standard-bearers had much ado
to take up their eagles, which seemed to be fixed to the place. Crassus
laughed at it, and hastened their march, and compelled his infantry to
keep pace with his cavalry, till some few of the scouts returned and
told them that their fellows were slain and they hardly escaped, that
the enemy was at hand in full force, and resolved to give them battle.
On this all was in an uproar; Crassus was struck with amazement, and
for haste could scarcely put his army in good order. First, as Cassius
advised, he opened their ranks and files that they might take up as
much space as could be, to prevent their being surrounded, and
distributed the horse upon the wings, but afterwards changing his mind,
he drew up his army in a square, and made a front every way, each of
which consisted of twelve cohorts, to every one of which he allotted a
troop of horse, that no part might be destitute of the assistance that
the horse might give, and that they might be ready to assist
everywhere, as need should require. Cassius commanded one of the wings,
young Crassus the other, and he himself was in the middle. Thus they
marched on till they came to a little river named Balissus, a very
inconsiderable one in itself, but very grateful to the soldiers, who
had suffered so much by drought and heat all along their march. Most of
the commanders were of the opinion that they ought to remain there that
night, and to inform themselves as much as possible of the number of
the enemies, and their order, and so march against them at break of
day; but Crassus was so carried away by the eagerness of his son, and
the horsemen that were with him, who desired and urged him to lead them
on and engage, that he commanded those that had a mind to it to eat and
drink as they stood in their ranks, and before they had all well done,
he led them on, not leisurely and with halts to take breath, as if he
was going to battle, but kept on his pace as if he had been in haste,
till they saw the enemy, contrary to their expectation, neither so many
nor so magnificently armed as the Romans expected. For Surena had hid
his main force behind the first ranks, and ordered them to hide the
glittering of their armor with coats and skins. But when they
approached and the general gave the signal, immediately all the field
rung with a hideous noise and terrible clamor. For the Parthians do not
encourage themselves to war with cornets and trumpets, but with a kind
of kettle-drum, which they strike all at once in various quarters. With
these they make a dead hollow noise like the bellowing of beasts, mixed
with sounds resembling thunder, having, it would seem, very correctly
observed, that of all our senses hearing most confounds and disorders
us, and that the feelings excited through it most quickly disturb, and
most entirely overpower the understanding.
When they had sufficiently terrified the Romans with their noise, they
threw off the covering of their armor, and shone like lightning in
their breastplates and helmets of polished Margianian steel, and with
their horses covered with brass and steel trappings. Surena was the
tallest and finest looking man himself, but the delicacy of his looks
and effeminacy of his dress did not promise so much manhood as he
really was master of; for his face was painted, and his hair parted
after the fashion of the Medes, whereas the other Parthians made a more
terrible appearance, with their shaggy hair gathered in a mass upon
their foreheads after the Scythian mode. Their first design was with
their lances to beat down and force back the first ranks of the Romans,
but when they perceived the depth of their battle, and that the
soldiers firmly kept their ground, they made a retreat, and pretending
to break their order and disperse, they encompassed the Roman square
before they were aware of it. Crassus commanded his light-armed
soldiers to charge, but they had not gone far before they were received
with such a shower of arrows that they were glad to retire amongst the
heavy-armed, with whom this was the first occasion of disorder and
terror, when they perceived the strength and force of their darts,
which pierced their arms, and passed through every kind of covering,
hard and soft alike. The Parthians now placing themselves at distances
began to shoot from all sides, not aiming at any particular mark, (for,
indeed, the order of the Romans was so close, that they could not miss
if they would,) but simply sent their arrows with great force out of
strong bent bows, the strokes from which came with extreme violence.
The position of the Romans was a very bad one from the first; for if
they kept their ranks, they were wounded, and if they tried to charge,
they hurt the enemy none the more, and themselves suffered none the
less. For the Parthians threw their darts as they fled, an art in which
none but the Scythians excel them, and it is, indeed, a cunning
practice, for while they thus fight to make their escape, they avoid
the dishonor of a flight.
However, the Romans had some comfort to think that when they had spent
all their arrows, they would either give over or come to blows; but
when they presently understood that there were numerous camels loaded
with arrows, and that when the first ranks had discharged those they
had, they wheeled off and took more, Crassus seeing no end of it, was
out of all heart, and sent to his son that he should endeavor to fall
in upon them before he was quite surrounded; for the enemy advanced
most upon that quarter, and seemed to be trying to ride round and come
upon the rear. Therefore the young man, taking with him thirteen
hundred horse, one thousand of which he had from Caesar, five hundred
archers, and eight cohorts of the full-armed soldiers that stood next
him, led them up with design to charge the Parthians. Whether it was
that they found themselves in a piece of marshy ground, as some think,
or else designing to entice young Crassus as far as they could from his
father, they turned and began to fly; whereupon he crying out that they
durst not stand, pursued them, and with him Censorinus and Megabacchus,
both famous, the latter for his courage and prowess, the other for
being of a senator's family, and an excellent orator, both intimates of
Crassus, and of about the same age. The horse thus pushing on, the
infantry stayed little behind, being exalted with hopes and joy, for
they supposed they had already conquered, and now were only pursuing;
till when they were gone too far, they perceived the deceit, for they
that seemed to fly, now turned again, and a great many fresh ones came
on. Upon this they made an halt, for they doubted not but now the enemy
would attack them, because they were so few. But they merely placed
their cuirassiers to face the Romans, and with the rest of their horse
rode about scouring the field, and thus stirring up the sand, they
raised such a dust that the Romans could neither see nor speak to one
another, and being driven in upon one another in one close body, they
were thus hit and killed, dying, not by a quick and easy death, but
with miserable pains and convulsions; for writhing upon the darts in
their bodies, they broke them in their wounds, and when they would by
force pluck out the barbed points, they caught the nerves and veins, so
that they tore and tortured themselves. Many of them died thus, and
those that survived were disabled for any service, and when Publius
exhorted them to charge the cuirassiers, they showed him their hands
nailed to their shields, and their feet stuck to the ground, so that
they could neither fly nor fight. He charged in himself boldly,
however, with his horse, and came to close quarters with them, but was
very unequal, whether as to the offensive or defensive part; for with
his weak and little javelins, he struck against targets that were of
tough raw hides and iron, whereas the lightly clad bodies of his
Gaulish horsemen were exposed to the strong spears of the enemy. For
upon these he mostly depended, and with them he wrought wonders; for
they would catch hold of the great spears, and close upon the enemy,
and so pull them off from their horses, where they could scarce stir by
reason of the heaviness of their armor, and many of the Gauls quitting
their own horses, would creep under those of the enemy, and stick them
in the belly; which, growing unruly with the pain, trampled upon their
riders and upon the enemies promiscuously. The Gauls were chiefly
tormented by the heat and drought being not accustomed to either, and
most of their horses were slain by being spurred on against the spears,
so that they were forced to retire among the foot, bearing off Publius
grievously wounded. Observing a sandy hillock not far off, they made to
it, and tying their horses to one another, and placing them in the
midst, and joining all their shields together before them, they thought
they might make some defense against the barbarians. But it fell out
quite contrary, for when they were drawn up in a plain, the front in
some measure secured those that were behind; but when they were upon
the hill, one being of necessity higher up than another, none were in
shelter, but all alike stood equally exposed, bewailing their
inglorious and useless fate. There were with Publius two Greeks that
lived near there at Carrhae, Hieronymus and Nicomachus; these men urged
him to retire with them and fly to Ichnae, a town not far from thence,
and friendly to the Romans. "No," said he, "there is no death so
terrible, for the fear of which Publius would leave his friends that
die upon his account;" and bidding them to take care of themselves, he
embraced them and sent them away, and, because he could not use his
arm, for he was run through with a dart, he opened his side to his
armor-bearer, and commanded him to run him through. It is said that
Censorinus fell in the same manner. Megabacchus slew himself, as did
also the rest of best note. The Parthians coming upon the rest with
their lances, killed them fighting, nor were there above five hundred
taken prisoners. Cutting off the head of Publius, they rode off
directly towards Crassus.
His condition was thus. When he had commanded his son to fall upon the
enemy, and word was brought him that they fled and that there was a
distant pursuit, and perceiving also that the enemy did not press upon
him so hard as formerly, for they were mostly gone to fall upon
Publius, he began to take heart a little; and drawing his army towards
some sloping ground, expected when his son would return from the
pursuit. Of the messengers whom Publius sent to him, (as soon as he saw
his danger,) the first were intercepted by the enemy, and slain; the
last hardly escaping, came and declared that Publius was lost, unless
he had speedy succors. Crassus was terribly distracted, not knowing
what counsel to take, and indeed no longer capable of taking any;
overpowered now by fear for the whole army, now by desire to help his
son. At last he resolved to move with his forces. Just upon this, up
came the enemy with their shouts and noises more terrible than before,
their drums sounding again in the ears of the Romans, who now feared a
fresh engagement. And they who brought Publius's head upon the point of
a spear, riding up near enough that it could be known, scoffingly
inquired where were his parents and what family he was of, for it was
impossible that so brave and gallant a warrior should be the son of so
pitiful a coward as Crassus. This sight above all the rest dismayed the
Romans, for it did not incite them to anger as it might have done, but
to horror and trembling, though they say Crassus outdid himself in this
calamity, for he passed through the ranks and cried out to them, "This,
O my countrymen, is my own peculiar loss, but the fortune and the glory
of Rome is safe and untainted so long as you are safe. But if any one
be concerned for my loss of the best of sons, let him show it in
revenging him upon the enemy. Take away their joy, revenge their
cruelty, nor be dismayed at what is past; for whoever tries for great
objects must suffer something. Neither did Lucullus overthrow Tigranes
without bloodshed, nor Scipio Antiochus; our ancestors lost one
thousand ships about Sicily, and how many generals and captains in
Italy? no one of which losses hindered them from overthrowing their
conquerors; for the State of Rome did not arrive to this height by
fortune, but by perseverance and virtue in confronting danger."
While Crassus thus spoke exhorting them, he saw but few that gave much
heed to him, and when he ordered them to shout for the battle, he could
no longer mistake the despondency of his army, which made but a faint
and unsteady noise, while the shout of the enemy was clear and bold.
And when they came to the business, the Parthian servants and
dependents riding about shot their arrows, and the horsemen in the
foremost ranks with their spears drove the Romans close together,
except those who rushed upon them for fear of being killed by their
arrows. Neither did these do much execution, being quickly dispatched;
for the strong thick spear made large and mortal wounds, and often run
through two men at once. As they were thus fighting, the night coming
on parted them, the Parthians boasting that they would indulge Crassus
with one night to mourn his son, unless upon better consideration he
would rather go to Arsaces, than be carried to him. These, therefore,
took up their quarters near them, being flushed with their victory. But
the Romans had a sad night of it; for neither taking care for the
burial of their dead, nor the cure of the wounded, nor the groans of
the expiring, everyone bewailed his own fate. For there was no means of
escaping, whether they should stay for the light, or venture to retreat
into the vast desert in the dark. And now the wounded men gave them new
trouble, since to take them with them would retard their flight, and if
they should leave them, they might serve as guides to the enemy by
their cries. However, they were all desirous to see and hear Crassus,
though they were sensible that he was the cause of all their mischief.
But he wrapped his cloak around him, and hid himself, where he lay as
an example, to ordinary minds, of the caprice of fortune, but to the
wise, of inconsiderateness and ambition; who, not content to be
superior to so many millions of men, being inferior to two, esteemed
himself as the lowest of all. Then came Octavius, his lieutenant, and
Cassius, to comfort him, but he being altogether past helping, they
themselves called together the centurions and tribunes, and agreeing
that the best way was to fly, they ordered the army out, without sound
of trumpet, and at first with silence. But before long, when the
disabled men found they were left behind, strange confusion and
disorder, with an outcry and lamentation, seized the camp, and a
trembling and dread presently fell upon them, as if the enemy were at
their heels. By which means, now and then fuming out of their way, now
and then standing to their ranks, sometimes taking up the wounded that
followed, sometimes laying them down, they wasted the time, except
three hundred horse, whom Egnatius brought safe to Carrhae about
midnight; where calling, in the Roman tongue, to the watch, as soon as
they heard him, he bade them tell Coponius, the governor, that Crassus
had fought a very great battle with the Parthians; and having said but
this, and not so much as telling his name, he rode away at full speed
to Zeugma. And by this means he saved himself and his men, but lost his
reputation by deserting his general. However, his message to Coponius
was for the advantage of Crassus; for he, suspecting by this hasty and
confused delivery of the message that all was not well, immediately
ordered the garrison to be in arms, and as soon as he understood that
Crassus was upon the way towards him, he went out to meet him, and
received him with his army into the town.
The Parthians, although they perceived their dislodgement in the night,
yet did not pursue them, but as soon as it was day, they came upon
those that were left in the camp, and put no less than four thousand to
the sword, and with their light; horse picked up a great many
stragglers. Varguntinus, the lieutenant, while it was yet dark, had
broken off from the main body with four cohorts which had strayed out
of the way; and the Parthians, encompassing these on a small hill, slew
every man of them excepting twenty, who with their drawn swords forced
their way through the thickest, and they admiring their courage, opened
their ranks to the right and left, and let them pass without
molestation to Carrhae.
Soon after a false report was brought to Surena, that Crassus, with his
principal officers, had escaped, and that those who were got into
Carrhae were but a confused rout of insignificant people, not worth
further pursuit. Supposing, therefore, that he had lost the very crown
and glory of his victory, and yet being uncertain whether it were so or
not, and anxious to ascertain the fact, that so he should either stay
and besiege Carrhae or follow Crassus, he sent one of his interpreters
to the walls, commanding him in Latin to call for Crassus or Cassius,
for that the general, Surena, desired a conference. As soon as Crassus
heard this, he embraced the proposal, and soon after there came up a
band of Arabians, who very well knew the faces of Crassus and Cassius,
as having been frequently in the Roman camp before the battle. They
having espied Cassius from the wall, told him that Surena desired a
peace, and would give them safe convoy, if they would make a treaty
with the king his master, and withdraw all their troops out of
Mesopotamia; and this he thought most advisable for them both, before
things came to the last extremity; Cassius, embracing the proposal,
desired that a time and place might be appointed where Crassus and
Surena might have an interview. The Arabians, having charged themselves
with the message, went back to Surena, who wee not a little rejoiced
that Crassus was there to be besieged.
Next day, therefore, he came up with his army, insulting over the
Romans, and haughtily demanding of them Crassus and Cassius bound, if
they expected any mercy. The Romans, seeing themselves deluded and
mocked, were much troubled at it, but advising Crassus to lay aside his
distant and empty hopes of aid from the Armenians, resolved to fly for
it; and this design ought to have been kept private, till they were
upon their way, and not have been told to any of the people of Carrhae.
But Crassus let this also be known to Andromachus, the most faithless
of men, nay he was so infatuated as to choose him for his guide. The
Parthians then, to be sure, had punctual intelligence of all that
passed; but it being contrary to their usage, and also difficult for
them to fight by night, and Crassus having chosen that time to set out,
Andromachus, lest he should get the start too far of his pursuers, led
him hither and thither, and at last conveyed him into the midst of
morasses and places full of ditches, so that the Romans had a
troublesome and perplexing journey of it, and some there were who,
supposing by these windings and turnings of Andromachus that no good
was intended, resolved to follow him no further. And at last Cassius
himself returned to Carrhae, and his guides, the Arabians, advising him
to tarry there till the moon was got out of Scorpio, he told them that
he was most afraid of Sagittarius, and so with five hundred horse went
off to Syria. Others there were, who having got honest guides, took
their way by the mountains called Sinnaca, and got into places of
security by daybreak; these were five thousand under the command of
Octavius, a very gallant man. But Crassus fared worse; day overtook him
still deceived by Andromachus, and entangled in the fens and the
difficult country. There were with him four cohorts of legionary
soldiers, a very few horsemen, and five lictors, with whom having with
great difficulty got into the way, and not being a mile and a half from
Octavius, instead of going to join him, although the enemy were already
upon him, he retreated to another hill, neither so defensible nor
impassable for the horse, but lying under the hills of Sinnaca, and
continued so as to join them in a long ridge through the plain.
Octavius could see in what danger the general was, and himself, at
first but slenderly followed, hurried to the rescue. Soon after, the
rest, upbraiding one another with baseness in forsaking their officers,
marched down, and falling upon the Parthians, drove them from the hill,
and compassing Crassus about, and fencing him with their shields,
declared proudly, that no arrow in Parthia should ever touch their
general, so long as there was a man of them left alive to protect him.
Surena, therefore, perceiving his soldiers less inclined to expose
themselves, and knowing that if the Romans should prolong the battle
till night, they might then gain the mountains and be out of his reach,
betook himself to his usual craft. Some of the prisoners were set free,
who had, as it was contrived, been in hearing, while some of the
barbarians spoke of a set purpose in the camp to the effect that the
king did not design the war to be pursued to extremity against the
Romans, but rather desired, by his gentle treatment of Crassus, to make
a step towards reconciliation. And the barbarians desisted from
fighting, and Surena himself, with his chief officers, riding gently to
the hill, unbent his bow and held out his hand, inviting Crassus to an
agreement, and saying that it was beside the king's intentions, that
they had thus had experience of the courage and the strength of his
soldiers; that now he desired no other contention but that of kindness
and friendship, by making a truce, and permitting them to go away in
safety. These words of Surena the rest received joyfully, and were
eager to accept the offer; but Crassus, who had had sufficient
experience of their perfidiousness, and was unable to see any reason
for the sudden change, would give no ear to them, and only took time to
consider. But the soldiers cried out and advised him to treat, and then
went on to upbraid and affront him, saying that it was very
unreasonable that he should bring them to fight with such men armed,
whom himself, without their arms, durst not look in the face. He tried
first to prevail with them by entreaties, and told them that if they
would have patience till evening, they might get into the mountains and
passes, inaccessible for horse, and be out of danger, and withal he
pointed out the way with his hand, entreating them not to abandon their
preservation, now close before them. But when they mutinied and clashed
their targets in a threatening manner, he was overpowered and forced to
go, and only turning about at parting, said, "You, Octavius and
Petronius, and the rest of the officers who are present, see the
necessity of going which I lie under, and cannot but be sensible of the
indignities and violence offered to me. Tell all men when you have
escaped, that Crassus perished rather by the subtlety of his enemies,
than by the disobedience of his countrymen."
Octavius, however, would not stay there, but with Petronius went down
from the hill; as for the lictors, Crassus bade them be gone. The first
that met him were two half-blood Greeks, who, leaping from their
horses, made a profound reverence to Crassus, and desired him, in
Greek, to send some before him, who might see that Surena himself was
coming towards them, his retinue disarmed, and not having so much as
their wearing swords along with them. But Crassus answered, that if he
had the least concern for his life, he would never have entrusted
himself in their hands, but sent two brothers of the name of Roscius,
to inquire on what terms, and in what numbers they should meet. These
Surena ordered immediately to be seized, and himself with his principal
officers came up on horseback, and greetings him, said, "How is this,
then? A Roman commander is on foot, whilst I and my train are mounted."
But Crassus replied, that there was no error committed on either side,
for they both met according to the custom of their own country. Surena
told him that from that time there was a league between the king his
master and the Romans, but that Crassus must go with him to the river
to sign it, "for you Romans," said he, "have not good memories for
conditions," and so saying, reached out his hand to him. Crassus,
therefore, gave order that one of his horses should be brought; but
Surena told him there was no need, "the king, my master, presents you
with this;" and immediately a horse with a golden bit was brought up to
him, and himself was forcibly put into the saddle by the grooms, who
ran by the side and struck the horse to make the more haste. But
Octavius running up, got hold of the bridle, and soon after one of the
officers, Petronius, and the rest of the company came up, striving to
stop the horse, and pulling back those who on both sides of him forced
Crassus forward. Thus from pulling and thrusting one another, they came
to a tumult, and soon after to blows. Octavius, drawing his sword,
killed a groom of one of the barbarians, and one of them, getting
behind Octavius, killed him. Petronius was not armed, but being struck
on the breastplate, fell down from his horse, though without hurt.
Crassus was killed by a Parthian, called Pomaxathres; others say, by a
different man, and that Pomaxathres only cut off his head and right
hand after he had fallen. But this is conjecture rather than certain
knowledge, for those that were by had not leisure to observe
particulars, and were either killed fighting about Crassus, or ran off
at once to get to their comrades on the hill. But the Parthians coming
up to them, and saying that Crassus had the punishment he justly
deserved, and that Surena bade the rest come down from the hill without
fear, some of them came down and surrendered themselves, others were
scattered up and down in the night, a very few of whom got safe home,
and others the Arabians, beating through the country, hunted down and
put to death. It is generally said, that in all twenty thousand men
were slain, and ten thousand taken prisoners.
Surena sent the head and hand of Crassus to Hyrodes, the king, into
Armenia, but himself by his messengers scattering a report that he was
bringing Crassus alive to Seleucia, made a ridiculous procession, which
by way of scorn, he called a triumph. For one Caius Paccianus, who of
all the prisoners was most like Crassus, being put into a woman's dress
of the fashion of the barbarians, and instructed to answer to the title
of Crassus and Imperator, was brought sitting upon his horse, while
before him went a parcel of trumpeters and lictors upon camels. Purses
were hung at the end of the bundles of rods, and the heads of the slain
fresh bleeding at the end of their axes. After them followed the
Seleucian singing women, repeating scurrilous and abusive songs upon
the effeminacy and cowardliness of Crassus. This show was seen by
everybody; but Surena, calling together the senate of Seleucia, laid
before them certain wanton books, of the writings of Aristides, the
Milesian; neither, indeed, was this any forgery, for they had been
found among the baggage of Rustius, and were a good subject to supply
Surena with insulting remarks upon the Romans, who were not able even
in the time of war to forget such writings and practices. But the
people of Seleucia had reason to commend the wisdom of Aesop's fable of
the wallet, seeing their general Surena carrying a bag full of loose
Milesian stories before him, but keeping behind him a whole Parthian
Sybaris in his many wagons full of concubines; like the vipers and asps
people talk of, all the foremost and more visible parts fierce and
terrible with spears and arrows and horsemen, but the rear terminating
in loose women and castanets, music of the lute, and midnight
revellings. Rustius, indeed, is not to be excused, but the Parthians
had forgot, when they mocked at the Milesian stories, that many of the
royal line of their Arsacidae had been born of Milesian and Ionian
mistresses.
Whilst these things were doing, Hyrodes had struck up a peace with the
king of Armenia, and made a match between his son Pacorus and the king
of Armenia's sister. Their feastings and entertainments in consequence
were very sumptuous, and various Grecian compositions, suitable to the
occasion, were recited before them. For Hyrodes was not ignorant of the
Greek language and literature, and Artavasdes was so expert in it, that
he wrote tragedies and orations and histories, some of which are still
extant. When the head of Crassus was brought to the door, the tables
were just taken away, and one Jason, a tragic actor, of the town of
Tralles, was singing the scene in the Bacchae of Euripides concerning
Agave. He was receiving much applause, when Sillaces coming to the
room, and having made obeisance to the king, threw down the head of
Crassus into the midst of the company. The Parthians receiving it with
joy and acclamations, Sillaces, by the king's command, was made to sit
down, while Jason handed over the costume of Pentheus to one of the
dancers in the chorus, and taking up the head of Crassus, and acting
the part of a bacchante in her frenzy, in a rapturous impassioned
manner, sang the lyric passages,
We've hunted down a mighty chase to-day,
And from the mountain bring the noble prey;
to the great delight of all the company; but when the verses of the
dialogue followed,
What happy hand the glorious victim slew?
I claim that honor to my courage due;
Pomaxathres, who happened to be there at the supper, started up and
would have got the head into his own hands, "for it is my due," said
he, "and no man's else." The king was greatly pleased, and gave
presents, according to the custom of the Parthians, to them, and to
Jason, the actor, a talent. Such was the burlesque that was played,
they tell us, as the afterpiece to the tragedy of Crassus's expedition.
But divine justice failed not to punish both Hyrodes, for his cruelty,
and Surena for his perjury; for Surena not long after was put to death
by Hyrodes, out of mere envy to his glory; and Hyrodes himself, having
lost his son Pacorus, who was beaten in a battle with the Romans,
falling into a disease which turned to a dropsy, had aconite given him
by his second son, Phraates; but the poison working only upon the
disease, and carrying away the dropsical matter with itself, the king
began suddenly to recover, so that Phraates at length was forced to
take the shortest course, and strangled him.
COMPARISON OF CRASSUS WITH NICIAS
In the comparison of these two, first, if we compare the estate of
Nicias with that of Crassus, we must acknowledge Nicias's to have been
more honestly got. In itself, indeed, one cannot much approve of
gaining riches by working mines, the greatest part of which is done by
malefactors and barbarians, some of them, too, bound, and perishing in
those close and unwholesome places. But if we compare this with the
sequestrations of Sylla, and the contracts for houses ruined by fire,
we shall then think Nicias came very honestly by his money. For Crassus
publicly and avowedly made use of these arts, as other men do of
husbandry, and putting out money to interest; while as for other
matters which he used to deny, when taxed with them, as, namely,
selling his voice in the senate for gain's sake, and injuring allies,
and courting women, and conniving at criminals, these are things which
Nicias was never so much as falsely accused of; nay, he was rather
laughed at for giving money to those who made a trade of impeachments,
merely out of timorousness, a course, indeed, that would by no means
become Pericles and Aristides, but necessary for him who by nature was
wanting in assurance, even as Lycurgus, the orator, frankly
acknowledged to the people; for when he was accused for buying off an
evidence, he said that he was very much pleased that having
administered their affairs for some time, he was at last accused,
rather for giving, than receiving. Again, Nicias, in his expenses, was
of a more public spirit than Crassus, priding himself much on the
dedication of gifts in temples, on presiding at gymnastic games, and
furnishing choruses for the plays, and adorning processions, while the
expenses of Crassus, in feasting and afterwards providing food for so
many myriads of people, were much greater than all that Nicias
possessed as well as spent, put together. So that one might wonder at
anyone's failing to see that vice is a certain inconsistency and
incongruity of habit, after such an example of money dishonorably
obtained, and wastefully lavished away.
Let so much be said of their estates; as for their management of public
affairs, I see not that any dishonesty, injustice, or arbitrary action
can be objected to Nicias, who was rather the victim of Alcibiades's
tricks, and was always careful and scrupulous in his dealings with the
people. But Crassus is very generally blamed for his changeableness in
his friendships and enmities, for his unfaithfulness, and his mean and
underhand proceedings; since he himself could not deny that to compass
the consulship, he hired men to lay violent hands upon Domitius and
Cato. Then at the assembly held for assigning the provinces, many were
wounded and four actually killed, and he himself, which I had omitted
in the narrative of his life, struck with his fist one Lucius Analius,
a senator, for contradicting him, so that he left the place bleeding.
But as Crassus was to be blamed for his violent and arbitrary courses,
so is Nicias no less to be blamed for his timorousness and meanness of
spirit, which made him submit and give in to the basest people, whereas
in this respect Crassus showed himself lofty spirited and magnanimous,
who having to do not with such as Cleon or Hyperbolus, but with the
splendid acts of Caesar and the three triumphs of Pompey, would not
stoop, but bravely bore up against their joint interests, and in
obtaining the office of censor, surpassed even Pompey himself For a
statesman ought not to regard how invidious the thing is, but how
noble, and by his greatness to overpower envy; but if he will be always
aiming at security and quiet, and dread Alcibiades upon the hustings,
and the Lacedaemonians at Pylos, and Perdiccas in Thrace, there is room
and opportunity enough for retirement, and he may sit out of the noise
of business, and weave himself, as one of the sophists says, his
triumphal garland of inactivity. His desire of peace, indeed, and of
finishing the war, was a divine and truly Grecian ambition, nor in this
respect would Crassus deserve to be compared to him, though he had
enlarged the Roman empire to the Caspian Sea or the Indian Ocean.
In a State where there is a sense of virtue, a powerful man ought not
to give way to the ill-affected, or expose the government to those that
are incapable of it, nor suffer high trusts to be committed to those
who want common honesty. Yet Nicias, by his connivance, raised Cleon, a
fellow remarkable for nothing but his loud voice and brazen face, to
the command of an army. Indeed, I do not commend Crassus, who in the
war with Spartacus was more forward to fight than became a discreet
general, though he was urged into it by a point of honor, lest Pompey
by his coming should rob him of the glory of the action, as Mummius did
Metellus at the taking of Corinth, but Nicias's proceedings are
inexcusable. For he did not yield up a mere opportunity of getting
honor and advantage to his competitor, but believing that the
expedition would be very hazardous, was thankful to take care of
himself, and left the Commonwealth to shift for itself. And whereas
Themistocles, lest a mean and incapable fellow should ruin the State by
holding command in the Persian war, bought him off, and Cato, in a most
dangerous and critical conjuncture, stood for the tribuneship for the
sake of his country, Nicias, reserving himself for trifling expeditions
against Minoa and Cythera, and the miserable Melians, if there be
occasion to come to blows with the Lacedaemonians, slips off his
general's cloak and hands over to the unskillfulness and rashness of
Cleon, fleet, men, and arms, and the whole command, where the utmost
possible skill was called for. Such conduct, I say, is not to be
thought so much carelessness of his own fame, as of the interest and
preservation of his country. By this means it came to pass he was
compelled to the Sicilian war, men generally believing that he was not
so much honestly convinced of the difficulty of the enterprise, as
ready out of mere love of ease and cowardice to lose the city the
conquest of Sicily. But yet it is a great sign of his integrity, that
though he was always averse from war, and unwilling to command, yet
they always continued to appoint him as the best experienced and ablest
general they had. On the other hand Crassus, though always ambitious of
command, never attained to it, except by mere necessity in the servile
war, Pompey and Metellus and the two brothers Lucullus being absent,
although at that time he was at his highest pitch of interest and
reputation. Even those who thought most of him seem to have thought
him, as the comic poet says:
A brave man anywhere but in the field.
There was no help, however, for the Romans, against his passion for
command and for distinction. The Athenians sent out Nicias against his
will to the war, and Crassus led out the Romans against theirs; Crassus
brought misfortune on Rome, as Athens brought it on Nicias.
Still this is rather ground for praising Nicias, than for finding fault
with Crassus. His experience and sound judgment as a general saved him
from being carried away by the delusive hopes of his fellow-citizens,
and made him refuse to entertain any prospect of conquering Sicily.
Crassus, on the other hand, mistook, in entering on a Parthian war as
an easy matter. He was eager, while Caesar was subduing the west, Gaul,
Germany, and Britain, to advance for his part to the east and the
Indian Sea, by the conquest of Asia, to complete the incursions of
Pompey and the attempts of Lucullus, men of prudent temper and of
unimpeachable worth, who, nevertheless, entertained the same projects
as Crassus, and acted under the same convictions. When Pompey was
appointed to the like command, the senate was opposed to it; and after
Caesar had routed three hundred thousand Germans, Cato recommended that
he should be surrendered to the defeated enemy, to expiate in his own
person the guilt of breach of faith. The people, meantime, (their
service to Cato!) kept holiday for fifteen days, and were overjoyed.
What would have been their feelings, and how many holidays would they
have celebrated, if Crassus had sent news from Babylon of victory, and
thence marching onward had converted Media and Persia, the Hyrcanians,
Susa, and Bactra, into Roman provinces?
If wrong we must do, as Euripides says, and cannot be content with
peace and present good things, let it not be for such results as
destroying Mende or Scandea, or beating up the exiled Aeginetans in the
coverts to which like hunted birds they had fled, when expelled from
their homes, but let it be for some really great remuneration; nor let
us part with justice, like a cheap and common thing, for a small and
trifling price. Those who praise Alexander's enterprise and blame that
of Crassus, judge of the beginning unfairly by the results.
In actual service, Nicias did much that deserves high praise. He
frequently defeated the enemy in battle, and was on the very point of
capturing Syracuse; nor should he bear the whole blame of the disaster,
which may fairly be ascribed in part to his want of health and to the
jealousy entertained of him at home. Crassus, on the other hand,
committed so many errors as not to leave fortune room to show him
favor. It is no surprise to find such imbecility fall a victim to the
power of Parthia; the only wonder is to see it prevailing over the
wonted good-fortune of Rome. One scrupulously observed, the other
entirely slighted the arts of divination; and as both equally perished,
it is difficult to see what inference we should draw. Yet the fault of
over-caution, supported by old and general opinion, better deserves
forgiveness than that of self-willed and lawless transgression.
In his death, however, Crassus has the advantage, as he did not
surrender himself, nor submit to bondage, or let himself be taken in by
trickery, but was the victim only of the entreaties of his friends and
the perfidy of his enemies; whereas Nicias enhanced the shame of his
death by yielding himself up in the hope of a disgraceful and
inglorious escape.
SERTORIUS
It is no great wonder if in long process of time, while fortune takes
her course hither and thither, numerous coincidences should
spontaneously occur. If the number and variety of subjects to be
wrought upon be infinite, it is all the more easy for fortune, with
such an abundance of material, to effect this similarity of results. Or
if, on the other hand, events are limited to the combinations of some
finite number, then of necessity the same must often recur, and in the
same sequence. There are people who take a pleasure in making
collections of all such fortuitous occurrences that they have heard or
read of, as look like works of a rational power and design; they
observe, for example, that two eminent persons, whose names were Attis,
the one a Syrian, the other of Arcadia, were both slain by a wild boar;
that of two whose names were Actaeon, the one was torn in pieces by his
dogs, the other by his lovers; that of two famous Scipios, the one
overthrew the Carthaginians in war, the other totally ruined and
destroyed them; the city of Troy was the first time taken by Hercules
for the horses promised him by Laomedon, the second time by Agamemnon,
by means of the celebrated great wooden horse, and the third time by
Charidemus, by occasion of a horse falling down at the gate, which
hindered the Trojans, so that they could not shut them soon enough; and
of two cities which take their names from the most agreeable
odoriferous plants, Ios and Smyrna, the one from a violet, the other
from myrrh, the poet Homer is reported to have been born in the one,
and to have died in the other. And so to these instances let us further
add, that the most warlike commanders, and most remarkable for exploits
of skillful stratagem, have had but one eye; as Philip, Antigonus,
Hannibal, and Sertorius, whose life and actions we describe at present;
of whom, indeed, we might truly say, that he was more continent than
Philip, more faithful to his friend than Antigonus, and more merciful
to his enemies than Hannibal; and that for prudence and judgment he
gave place to none of them, but in fortune was inferior to them all.
Yet though he had continually in her a far more difficult adversary to
contend against than his open enemies, he nevertheless maintained his
ground, with the military skill of Metellus, the boldness of Pompey,
the success of Sylla, and the power of the Roman people, all to be
encountered by one who was a banished man and a stranger at the head of
a body of barbarians. Among Greek commanders, Eumenes of Cardia may be
best compared with him; they were both of them men born for command,
for warfare, and for stratagem; both banished from their countries, and
holding command over strangers; both had fortune for their adversary,
in their last days so harshly so, that they were both betrayed and
murdered by those who served them, and with whom they had formerly
overcome their enemies.
Quintus Sertorius was of a noble family, born in the city of Nursia, in
the country of the Sabines; his father died when he was young, and he
was carefully and decently educated by his mother, whose name was Rhea,
and whom he appears to have extremely loved and honored. He paid some
attention to the study of oratory and pleading in his youth, and
acquired some reputation and influence in Rome by his eloquence; but
the splendor of his actions in arms, and his successful achievements in
the wars, drew off his ambition in that direction.
At his first beginning, he served under Caepio, when the Cimbri and
Teutones invaded Gaul; where the Romans fighting unsuccessfully, and
being put to flight, he was wounded in many parts of his body, and lost
his horse, yet, nevertheless, swam across the river Rhone in his armor,
with his breastplate and shield, bearing himself up against the
violence of the current; so strong and so well inured to hardship was
his body.
The second time that the Cimbri and Teutones came down with some
hundreds of thousands, threatening death and destruction to all, when
it was no small piece of service for a Roman soldier to keep his ranks
and obey his commander, Sertorius undertook, while Marius led the army,
to spy out the enemy's camp. Procuring a Celtic dress, and acquainting
himself with the ordinary expressions of their language requisite for
common intercourse, he threw himself in amongst the barbarians; where
having carefully seen with his own eyes, or having been fully informed
by persons upon the place of all their most important concerns, he
returned to Marius, from whose hands he received the rewards of valor;
and afterwards giving frequent proofs both of conduct and courage in
all the following war, he was advanced to places of honor and trust
under his general. After the wars with the Cimbri and Teutones, he was
sent into Spain, having the command of a thousand men under Didius, the
Roman general, and wintered in the country of the Celtiberians, in the
city of Castulo, where the soldiers enjoying great plenty, and growing
insolent, and continually drinking, the inhabitants despised them and
sent for aid by night to the Gyrisoenians, their near neighbors, who
fell upon the Romans in their lodgings and slew a great number of them.
Sertorius, with a few of his soldiers, made his way out, and rallying
together the rest who escaped, he marched round about the walls, and
finding the gate open, by which the Gyrisoenians had made their secret
entrance, he gave not them the same opportunity, but placing a guard at
the gate, and seizing upon all quarters of the city, he slew all who
were of age to bear arms, and then ordering his soldiers to lay aside
their weapons and put off their own clothes, and put on the
accoutrements of the barbarians, he commanded them to follow him to the
city, from whence the men came who had made this night attack upon the
Romans. And thus deceiving the Gyrisoenians with the sight of their own
armor, he found the gates of their city open, and took a great number
prisoners, who came out thinking to meet their friends and
fellow-citizens come home from a successful expedition. Most of them
were thus slain by the Romans at their own gates, and the rest within
yielded up themselves and were sold for slaves.
This action made Sertorius highly renowned throughout all Spain, and as
soon as he returned to Rome he was appointed quaestor of Cisalpine
Gaul, at a very seasonable moment for his country, the Marsian war
being on the point of breaking out. Sertorius was ordered to raise
soldiers and provide arms, which he performed with a diligence and
alacrity, so contrasting with the feebleness and slothfulness of other
officers of his age, that he got the repute of a man whose life would
be one of action. Nor did he relinquish the part of a soldier, now that
he had arrived at the dignity of a commander, but performed wonders
with his own hands, and never sparing himself, but exposing his body
freely in all conflicts, he lost one of his eyes. This he always
esteemed an honor to him; observing that others do not continually
carry about with them the marks and testimonies of their valor, but
must often lay aside their chains of gold, their spears and crowns;
whereas his ensigns of honor, and the manifestations of his courage
always remained with him, and those who beheld his misfortune, must at
the same time recognize his merits. The people also paid him the
respect he deserved, and when he came into the theater, received him
with plaudits and joyful acclamations, an honor rarely bestowed even on
persons of advanced standing and established reputation. Yet,
notwithstanding this popularity, when he stood to be tribune of the
people, he was disappointed, and lost the place, being opposed by the
party of Sylla, which seems to have been the principal cause of his
subsequent enmity to Sylla.
After that Marius was overcome by Sylla and fled into Africa, and Sylla
had left Italy to go to the wars against Mithridates, and of the two
consuls Octavius and Cinna, Octavius remained steadfast to the policy
of Sylla, but Cinna, desirous of a new revolution, attempted to recall
the lost interest of Marius, Sertorius joined Cinna's party, more
particularly as he saw that Octavius was not very capable, and was also
suspicious of anyone that was a friend to Marius. When a great battle
was fought between the two consuls in the forum, Octavius overcame, and
Cinna and Sertorius, having lost not less than ten thousand men, left
the city, and gaining over most part of the troops who were dispersed
about and remained still in many parts of Italy, they in a short time
mustered up a force against Octavius sufficient to give him battle
again, and Marius, also, now coming by sea out of Africa, proffered
himself to serve under Cinna, as a private soldier under his consul and
commander.
Most were for the immediate reception of Marius, but Sertorius openly
declared against it, whether he thought that Cinna would not now pay as
much attention to himself, when a man of higher military repute was
present, or feared that the violence of Marius would bring all things
to confusion, by his boundless wrath and vengeance after victory. He
insisted upon it with Cinna that they were already victorious, that
there remained little to be done, and that, if they admitted Marius, he
would deprive them of the glory and advantage of the war, as there was
no man less easy to deal with, or less to be trusted in, as a partner
in power. Cinna answered, that Sertorius rightly judged the affair, but
that he himself was at a loss, and ashamed, and knew not how to reject
him, after he had sent for him to share in his fortunes. To which
Sertorius immediately replied, that he had thought that Marius came
into Italy of his own accord, and therefore had deliberated as to what
might be most expedient, but that Cinna ought not so much as to have
questioned whether he should accept him whom he had already invited,
but should have honorably received and employed him, for his word once
past left no room for debate. Thus Marius being sent for by Cinna, and
their forces being divided into three parts, under Cinna, Marius, and
Sertorius, the war was brought to a successful conclusion; but those
about Cinna and Marius committing all manner of insolence and cruelty,
made the Romans think the evils of war a golden time in comparison. On
the contrary, it is reported of Sertorius, that he never slew any man
in his anger, to satisfy his own private revenge, nor ever insulted
over anyone whom he had overcome, but was much offended with Marius,
and often privately entreated Cinna to use his power more moderately.
And in the end, when the slaves whom Marius had freed at his landing to
increase his army, being made not only his fellow-soldiers in the war,
but also now his guard in his usurpation, enriched and powerful by his
favor, either by the command or permission of Marius, or by their own
lawless violence, committed all sorts of crimes, killed their masters,
ravished their masters' wives, and abused their children, their conduct
appeared so intolerable to Sertorius that he slew the whole body of
them, four thousand in number, commanding his soldiers to shoot them
down with their javelins, as they lay encamped together.
Afterwards, when Marius died, and Cinna shortly after was slain, when
the younger Marius made himself consul against Sertorius's wishes and
contrary to law, when Carbo, Norbanus, and Scipio fought unsuccessfully
against Sylla, now advancing to Rome, when much was lost by the
cowardice and remissness of the commanders, but more by the treachery
of their party, when with the want of prudence in the chief leaders,
all went so ill that his presence could do no good, in the end when
Sylla had placed his camp near to Scipio, and by pretending friendship,
and putting him in hopes of a peace, corrupted his army, and Scipio
could not be made sensible of this, although often forewarned of it by
Sertorius, at last he utterly despaired of Rome, and hasted into Spain,
that by taking possession there beforehand, he might secure refuge to
his friends, from their misfortunes at home. Having bad weather in his
journey, and traveling through mountainous countries, and the
inhabitants stopping the way, and demanding a toll and money for
passage, those who were with him were out of all patience at the
indignity and shame it would be for a proconsul of Rome to pay tribute
to a crew of wretched barbarians. But he little regarded their censure,
and slighting that which had only the appearance of an indecency, told
them he must buy time, the most precious of all things to those who go
upon great enterprises; and pacifying the barbarous people with money,
he hastened his journey, and took possession of Spain, a country
flourishing and populous, abounding with young men fit to bear arms;
but on account of the insolence and covetousness of the governors from
time to time sent thither from Rome, they had generally an aversion to
the Roman supremacy. He, however, soon gained the affection of their
nobles by intercourse with them, and the good opinion of the people by
remitting their taxes. But that which won him most popularity, was his
exempting them from finding lodgings for the soldiers, when he
commanded his army to take up their winter quarters outside the cities,
and to pitch their camp in the suburbs; and when he himself, first of
all, caused his own tent to be raised without the walls. Yet not being
willing to rely totally upon the good inclination of the inhabitants,
he armed all the Romans who lived in those countries that were of
military age, and undertook the building of ships and the making of all
sorts of warlike engines, by which means he kept the cities in due
obedience, showing himself gentle in all peaceful business, and at the
same time formidable to his enemies by his great preparations for war.
As soon as he was informed that Sylla had made himself master of Rome,
and that the party which sided with Marius and Carbo was going to
destruction, he expected that some commander with a considerable army
would speedily come against him, and therefore sent away Julius
Salinator immediately, with six thousand men fully armed, to fortify
and defend the passes of the Pyrenees. And Caius Annius not long after
being sent out by Sylla, finding Julius unassailable, sat down short at
the foot of the mountains in perplexity. But a certain Calpurnius,
surnamed Lanarius, having treacherously slain Julius, and his soldiers
then forsaking the heights of the Pyrenees, Caius Annius advanced with
large numbers and drove before him all who endeavored to hinder his
march. Sertorius, also, not being strong enough to give him battle,
retreated with three thousand men into New Carthage, where he took
shipping, and crossed the seas into Africa. And coming near the coast
of Mauritania, his men went on shore to water, and straggling about
negligently, the natives fell upon them and slew a great number. This
new misfortune forced him to sail back again into Spain, whence he was
also repulsed, and, some Cilician pirate ships joining with him, they
made for the island of Pityussa, where they landed and overpowered the
garrison placed there by Annius, who, however, came not long after with
a great fleet of ships, and five thousand soldiers. And Sertorius made
ready to fight him by sea, although his ships were not built for
strength, but for lightness and swift sailing; but a violent west wind
raised such a sea that many of them were run aground and shipwrecked,
and he himself, with a few vessels, being kept from putting further out
to sea by the fury of the weather, and from landing by the power of his
enemies, was tossed about painfully for ten days together, amidst the
boisterous and adverse waves.
He escaped with difficulty, and after the wind ceased, ran for certain
desert islands scattered in those seas, affording no water, and after
passing a night there, making out to sea again, he went through the
straits of Cadiz, and sailing outward keeping the Spanish shore on his
right hand, he landed a little above the mouth of the river Baetis,
where it falls into the Atlantic sea, and gives the name to that part
of Spain. Here he met with seamen recently arrived from the Atlantic
islands, two in number, divided from one another only by a narrow
channel, and distant from the coast of Africa ten thousand furlongs.
These are called the Islands of the Blest; rains fall there seldom, and
in moderate showers, but for the most part they have gentle breezes,
bringing along with them soft dews, which render the soil not only rich
for plowing and planting, but so abundantly fruitful that it produces
spontaneously an abundance of delicate fruits, sufficient to feed the
inhabitants, who may here enjoy all things without trouble or labor.
The seasons of the year are temperate, and the transitions from one to
another so moderate, that the air is almost always serene and pleasant.
The rough northerly and easterly winds which blow from the coasts of
Europe and Africa, dissipated in the vast open space, utterly lose
their force before they reach the islands. The soft western and
southerly winds which breathe upon them sometimes produce gentle
sprinkling showers, which they convey along with them from the sea, but
more usually bring days of moist bright weather, cooling and gently
fertilizing the soil, so that the firm belief prevails even among the
barbarians, that this is the seat of the blessed, and that these are
the Elysian Fields celebrated by Homer.
When Sertorius heard this account, he was seized with a wonderful
passion for these islands, and had an extreme desire to go and live
there in peace and quietness, and safe from oppression and unending
wars; but his inclinations being perceived by the Cilician pirates, who
desired not peace nor quiet, but riches and spoils, they immediately
forsook him, and sailed away into Africa to assist Ascalis, the son of
Iphtha, and to help to restore him to his kingdom of Mauritania. Their
sudden departure noways discouraged Sertorius; he presently resolved to
assist the enemies of Ascalis, and by this new adventure trusted to
keep his soldiers together, who from this might conceive new hopes, and
a prospect of a new scene of action. His arrival in Mauritania being
very acceptable to the Moors, he lost no time, but immediately giving
battle to Ascalis, beat him out of the field and besieged him; and
Paccianus being sent by Sylla, with a powerful supply, to raise the
siege, Sertorius slew him in the field, gained over all his forces, and
took the city of Tingis, into which Ascalis and his brothers were fled
for refuge. The Africans tell that Antaeus was buried in this city, and
Sertorius had the grave opened, doubting the story because of the
prodigious size, and finding there his body, in effect, it is said,
full sixty cubits long, he was infinitely astonished, offered
sacrifice, and heaped up the tomb again, gave his confirmation to the
story, and added new honors to the memory of Antaeus. The Africans tell
that after the death of Antaeus, his wife Tinga lived with Hercules,
and had a son by him called Sophax, who was king of these countries,
and gave his mother's name to this city, whose son, also, was Diodorus,
a great conqueror, who brought the greatest part of the Libyan tribes
under his subjection, with an army of Greeks, raised out of the
colonies of the Olbians and Myceneans placed here by Hercules. Thus
much I may mention for the sake of king Juba, of all monarchs the
greatest student of history, whose ancestors are said to have sprung
from Diodorus and Sophax.
When Sertorius had made himself absolute master of the whole country,
he acted with great fairness to those who had confided in him, and who
yielded to his mercy; he restored to them their property, cities, and
government, accepting only of such acknowledgments as they themselves
freely offered. And whilst he considered which way next to turn his
arms, the Lusitanians sent ambassadors to desire him to be their
general; for being terrified with the Roman power, and finding the
necessity of having a commander of great authority and experience in
war, being also sufficiently assured of his worth and valor by those
who had formerly known him, they were desirous to commit themselves
especially to his care. And in fact Sertorius is said to have been of a
temper unassailable either by fear or pleasure, in adversity and
dangers undaunted, and noways puffed up with prosperity. In
straightforward fighting, no commander in his time was more bold and
daring, and in whatever was to be performed in war by stratagem,
secrecy, or surprise, if any strong place was to be secured, any pass
to be gained speedily, for deceiving and overreaching an enemy, there
was no man equal to him in subtlety and skill. In bestowing rewards and
conferring honors upon those who had performed good service in the wars
he was bountiful and magnificent, and was no less sparing and moderate
in inflicting punishment. It is true that that piece of harshness and
cruelty which he executed in the latter part of his days upon the
Spanish hostages, seems to argue that his clemency was not natural to
him, but only worn as a dress, and employed upon calculation, as his
occasion or necessity required. As to my own opinion, I am persuaded
that pure virtue, established by reason and judgment, can never be
totally perverted or changed into its opposite, by any misfortune
whatever. Yet I think it at the same time possible, that virtuous
inclinations and natural good qualities may, when unworthily oppressed
by calamities, show, with change of fortune, some change and alteration
of their temper; and thus I conceive it happened to Sertorius, who when
prosperity failed him, became exasperated by his disasters against
those who had done him wrong.
The Lusitanians having sent for Sertorius, he left Africa, and being
made general with absolute authority, he put all in order amongst them,
and brought the neighboring parts of Spain under subjection. Most of
the tribes voluntarily submitted themselves, won by the fame of his
clemency and of his courage, and, to some extent, also, he availed
himself of cunning artifices of his own devising to impose upon them
and gain influence over them. Amongst which, certainly, that of the
hind was not the least. Spanus, a countryman who lived in those parts,
meeting by chance a hind that had recently calved, flying from the
hunters, let the dam go, and pursuing the fawn, took it, being
wonderfully pleased with the rarity of the color, which was all milk
white. And as at that time Sertorius was living in the neighborhood,
and accepted gladly any presents of fruit, fowl, or venison, that the
country afforded, and rewarded liberally those who presented them, the
countryman brought him his young hind, which he took and was well
pleased with at the first sight, but when in time he had made it so
tame and gentle that it would come when he called, and follow him
wheresoever he went, and could endure the noise and tumult of the camp,
knowing well that uncivilized people are naturally prone to
superstition, by little and little he raised it into something
preternatural, saying that it was given him by the goddess Diana, and
that it revealed to him many secrets. He added, also, further
contrivances. If he had received at any time private intelligence that
the enemies had made an incursion into any part of the districts under
his command, or had solicited any city to revolt, he pretended that the
hind had informed him of it in his sleep, and charged him to keep his
forces in readiness. Or if again he had notice that any of the
commanders under him had got a victory, he would hide the messengers
and bring forth the hind crowned with flowers, for joy of the good news
that was to come, and would encourage them to rejoice and sacrifice to
the gods for the good account they should soon receive of their
prosperous success.
By such practices, he brought them to be more tractable and obedient in
all things; for now they thought themselves no longer to be led by a
stranger, but rather conducted by a god, and the more so, as the facts
themselves seemed to bear witness to it, his power, contrary to all
expectation or probability, continually increasing. For with two
thousand six hundred men, whom for honor's sake he called Romans,
combined with seven hundred Africans, who landed with him when he first
entered Lusitania, together with four thousand targeteers, and seven
hundred horse of the Lusitanians themselves, he made war against four
Roman generals, who commanded a hundred and twenty thousand foot, six
thousand horse, two thousand archers and slingers, and had cities
innumerable in their power; whereas at the first he had not above
twenty cities in all. And from this weak and slender beginning, he
raised himself to the command of large nations of men, and the
possession of numerous cities; and of the Roman commanders who were
sent against him, he overthrew Cotta in a sea-fight, in the channel
near the town of Mellaria; he routed Fufidius, the governor of Baetica,
with the loss of two thousand Romans, near the banks of the river
Baetis; Lucius Domitius, proconsul of the other province of Spain, was
overthrown by one of his lieutenants; Thoranius, another commander sent
against him by Metellus with a great force, was slain, and Metellus,
one of the greatest and most approved Roman generals then living, by a
series of defeats, was reduced to such extremities, that Lucius Manlius
came to his assistance out of Gallia Narbonensis, and Pompey the Great,
was sent from Rome, itself, in all haste, with considerable forces. Nor
did Metellus know which way to turn himself, in a war with such a bold
and ready commander, who was continually molesting him, and yet could
not be brought to a set battle, but by the swiftness and dexterity of
his Spanish soldiery, was enabled to shift and adapt himself to any
change of circumstances. Metellus had had experience in battles fought
by regular legions of soldiers, fully armed and drawn up in due order
into a heavy standing phalanx, admirably trained for encountering and
overpowering an enemy who came to close combat, hand to hand, but
entirely unfit for climbing among the hills, and competing incessantly
with the swift attacks and retreats of a set of fleet mountaineers, or
to endure hunger and thirst, and live exposed like them to the wind and
weather, without fire or covering.
Besides, being now in years, and having been formerly engaged in many
fights and dangerous conflicts, he had grown inclined to a more remiss,
easy, and luxurious life, and was the less able to contend with
Sertorius, who was in the prime of his strength and vigor, and had a
body wonderfully fitted for war, being strong, active, and temperate,
continually accustomed to endure hard labor, to take long tedious
journeys, to pass many nights together without sleep, to eat little,
and to be satisfied with very coarse fare, and who was never stained
with the least excess in wine, even when he was most at leisure. What
leisure time he allowed himself, he spent in hunting and riding about,
and so made himself thoroughly acquainted with every passage for escape
when he would fly, and for overtaking and intercepting in pursuit, and
gained a perfect knowledge of where he could and where he could not go.
Insomuch that Metellus suffered all the inconveniences of defeat,
although he earnestly desired to fight, and Sertorius, though he
refused the field, reaped all the advantages of a conqueror. For he
hindered them from foraging, and cut them off from water; if they
advanced, he was nowhere to be found; if they stayed in any place and
encamped, he continually molested and alarmed them; if they besieged
any town, he presently appeared and besieged them again, and put them
to extremities for want of necessaries. And thus he so wearied out the
Roman army, that when Sertorius challenged Metellus to fight singly
with him, they commended it, and cried out, it was a fair offer, a
Roman to fight against a Roman, and a general against a general; and
when Metellus refused the challenge, they reproached him. Metellus
derided and contemned this, and rightly so; for, as Theophrastus
observes, a general should die like a general, and not like a
skirmisher. But perceiving that the town of the Langobritae, who gave
great assistance to Sertorius, might easily be taken for want of water,
as there was but one well within the walls, and the besieger would be
master of the springs and fountains in the suburbs, he advanced against
the place, expecting to carry it in two days' time, there being no more
water, and gave command to his soldiers to take five days' provision
only. Sertorius, however, resolving to send speedy relief, ordered two
thousand skins to be filled with water, naming a considerable sum of
money for the carriage of every skin; and many Spaniards and Moors
undertaking the work, he chose out those who were the strongest and
swiftest of foot, and sent them through the mountains, with order that
when they had delivered the water, they should convey away privately
all those who would be least serviceable in the siege, that there might
be water sufficient for the defendants. As soon as Metellus understood
this, he was disturbed, as he had already consumed most part of the
necessary provisions for his army, but he sent out Aquinus with six
thousand soldiers to fetch in fresh supplies. But Sertorius having
notice of it, laid an ambush for him, and having sent out beforehand
three thousand men to take post in a thickly wooded watercourse, with
these he attacked the rear of Aquinus in his return, while he himself,
charging him in the front, destroyed part of his army, and took the
rest prisoners, Aquinus only escaping, after the loss of both his horse
and his armor. And Metellus, being forced shamefully to raise the
siege, withdrew amidst the laughter and contempt of the Spaniards;
while Sertorius became yet more the object of their esteem and
admiration.
He was also highly honored for his introducing discipline and good
order amongst them, for he altered their furious savage manner of
fighting, and brought them to make use of the Roman armor, taught them
to keep their ranks, and observe signals and watchwords; and out of a
confused number of thieves and robbers, he constituted a regular,
well-disciplined army. He bestowed silver and gold upon them liberally
to gild and adorn their helmets, he had their shields worked with
various figures and designs, he brought them into the mode of wearing
flowered and embroidered cloaks and coats, and by supplying money for
these purposes, and joining with them in all improvements, he won the
hearts of all. That, however, which delighted them most, was the care
that he took of their children. He sent for all the boys of noblest
parentage out of all their tribes, and placed them in the great city of
Osca, where he appointed masters to instruct them in the Grecian and
Roman learning, that when they came to be men, they might, as he
professed, be fitted to share with him in authority, and in conducting
the government, although under this pretext he really made them
hostages. However, their fathers were wonderfully pleased to see their
children going daily to the schools in good order, handsomely dressed
in gowns edged with purple, and that Sertorius paid for their lessons,
examined them often, distributed rewards to the most deserving, and
gave them the golden bosses to hang about their necks, which the Romans
called bullae.
There being a custom in Spain, that when a commander was slain in
battle, those who attended his person fought it out till they all died
with him, which the inhabitants of those countries called an offering,
or libation, there were few commanders that had any considerable guard
or number of attendants; but Sertorius was followed by many thousands
who offered themselves, and vowed to spend their blood with his. And it
is told that when his army was defeated near a city in Spain, and the
enemy pressed hard upon them, the Spaniards, with no care for
themselves, but being totally solicitous to save Sertorius, took him up
on their shoulders and passed him from one to another, till they
carried him into the city, and only when they had thus placed their
general in safety, provided afterwards each man for his own security.
Nor were the Spaniards alone ambitious to serve him, but the Roman
soldiers, also, that came out of Italy, were impatient to be under his
command; and when Perpenna Vento, who was of the same faction with
Sertorius, came into Spain with a quantity of money and a large number
of troops, and designed to make war against Metellus on his own
account, his own soldiers opposed it, and talked continually of
Sertorius, much to the mortification of Perpenna, who was puffed up
with the grandeur of his family and his riches. And when they
afterwards received tidings that Pompey was passing the Pyrenees, they
took up their arms, laid hold on their ensigns, called upon Perpenna to
lead them to Sertorius, and threatened him that if he refused they
would go without him, and place themselves under a commander who was
able to defend himself and those that served him. And so Perpenna was
obliged to yield to their desires, and joining Sertorius, added to his
army three and fifty cohorts.
And when now all the cities on this side of the river Ebro also united
their forces together under his command, his army grew great, for they
flocked together and flowed in upon him from all quarters. But when
they continually cried out to attack the enemy, and were impatient of
delay, their inexperienced, disorderly rashness caused Sertorius much
trouble, who at first strove to restrain them with reason and good
counsel, but when he perceived them refractory and unseasonably
violent, he gave way to their impetuous desires, and permitted them to
engage with the enemy, in such sort that they might, being repulsed,
yet not totally routed, become more obedient to his commands for the
future. Which happening as he had anticipated, he soon rescued them,
and brought them safe into his camp. And after a few days, being
willing to encourage them again, when he had called all his army
together, he caused two horses to be brought into the field, one an
old, feeble, lean animal, the other a lusty, strong horse, with a
remarkably thick and long tail. Near the lean one he placed a tall
strong man, and near the strong young horse a weak despicable-looking
fellow; and at a sign given, the strong man took hold of the weak
horse's tail with both his hands, and drew it to him with his whole
force, as if he would pull it off; the other, the weak man, in the mean
time, set to work to pluck off hair by hair from the great horse's
tail. And when the strong man had given trouble enough to himself in
vain, and sufficient diversion to the company, and had abandoned his
attempt, whilst the weak pitiful fellow in a short time and with little
pains had left not a hair on the great horse's tail, Sertorius rose up
and spoke to his army, "You see, fellow soldiers, that perseverance is
more prevailing than violence, and that many things which cannot be
overcome when they are together, yield themselves up when taken little
by little. Assiduity and persistence are irresistible, and in time
overthrow and destroy the greatest powers whatever. Time being the
favorable friend and assistant of those who use their judgment to await
his occasions, and the destructive enemy of those who are unseasonably
urging and pressing forward." With a frequent use of such words and
such devices, he soothed the fierceness of the barbarous people, and
taught them to attend and watch for their opportunities.
Of all his remarkable exploits, none raised greater admiration than
that which he put in practice against the Characitanians. These are a
people beyond the river Tagus, who inhabit neither cities nor towns,
but live in a vast high hill, within the deep dens and caves of the
rocks, the mouths of which open all towards the north. The country
below is of a soil resembling a light clay, so loose as easily to break
into powder, and is not firm enough to bear anyone that treads upon it,
and if you touch it in the least, it flies about like ashes or unslaked
lime. In any danger of war, these people descend into their caves, and
carrying in their booty and prey along with them, stay quietly within,
secure from every attack. And when Sertorius, leaving Metellus some
distance off had placed his camp near this hill, they slighted and
despised him, imagining, that he retired into these parts, being
overthrown by the Romans. And whether out of anger and resentment, or
out of his unwillingness to be thought to fly from his enemies, early
in the morning he rode up to view the situation of the place. But
finding there was no way to come at it, as he rode about, threatening
them in vain and disconcerted, he took notice that the wind raised the
dust and carried it up towards the caves of the Characitanians, the
mouths of which, as I said before, opened towards the north; and the
northerly wind, which some call Caecias, prevailing most in those
parts, coming up out of moist plains or mountains covered with snow, at
this particular time, in the heat of summer, being further supplied and
increased by the melting of the ice in the northern regions, blew a
delightful fresh gale, cooling and refreshing the Characitanians and
their cattle all the day long. Sertorius, considering well all
circumstances in which either the information of the inhabitants, or
his own experience had instructed him, commanded his soldiers to shovel
up a great quantity of this light, dusty earth, to heap it up together,
and make a mount of it over against the hill in which these barbarous
people resided, who, imagining that all this preparation was for
raising a mound to get at them, only mocked and laughed at it. However,
he continued the work till the evening, and brought his soldiers back
into their camp. The next morning a gentle breeze at first arose, and
moved the lightest parts of the earth, and dispersed it about as the
chaff before the wind; but when the sun coming to be higher, the strong
northerly wind had covered the hills with the dust, the soldiers came
and turned this mound of earth over and over, and broke the hard clods
in pieces, whilst others on horseback rode through it backward and
forward, and raised a cloud of dust into the air: there with the wind
the whole of it was carried away and blown into the dwellings of the
Characitanians, all lying open to the north. And there being no other
vent or breathing-place than that through which the Caecias rushed in
upon them, it quickly blinded their eyes, and filled their lungs, and
all but choked them, whilst they strove to draw in the rough air
mingled with dust and powdered earth. Nor were they able, with all they
could do, to hold out above two days, but yielded up themselves on the
third, adding, by their defeat, not so much to the power of Sertorius,
as to his renown, in proving that he was able to conquer places by art,
which were impregnable by the force of arms.
So long as he had to do with Metellus, he was thought to owe his
successes to his opponent's age and slow temper, which were ill-suited
for coping with the daring and activity of one who commanded a light
army more like a band of robbers than regular soldiers. But when Pompey
also passed over the Pyrenees, and Sertorius pitched his camp near him,
and offered and himself accepted every occasion by which military skill
could be put to the proof, and in this contest of dexterity was found
to have the better, both in baffling his enemy's designs and in
counter-scheming himself, the fame of him now spread even to Rome
itself, as the most expert commander of his time. For the renown of
Pompey was not small, who had already won much honor by his
achievements in the wars of Sylla, from whom he received the title of
Magnus, and was called Pompey the Great; and who had risen to the honor
of a triumph before the beard had grown on his face. And many cities
which were under Sertorius were on the very eve of revolting and going
over to Pompey, when they were deterred from it by that great action,
amongst others, which he performed near the city of Lauron, contrary to
the expectation of all.
For Sertorius had laid siege to Lauron, and Pompey came with his whole
army to relieve it; and there being a hill near this city very
advantageously situated, they both made haste to take it. Sertorius was
beforehand, and took possession of it first, and Pompey, having drawn
down his forces, was not sorry that it had thus happened, imagining
that he had hereby enclosed his enemy between his own army and the
city, and sent in a messenger to the citizens of Lauron, to bid them be
of good courage, and to come upon their walls, where they might see
their besieger besieged. Sertorius, perceiving their intentions,
smiled, and said, he would now teach Sylla's scholar, for so he called
Pompey in derision, that it was the part of a general to look as well
behind him as before him, and at the same time showed them six thousand
soldiers, whom he had left in his former camp, from whence he marched
out to take the hill, where if Pompey should assault him, they might
fall upon his rear. Pompey discovered this too late, and not daring to
give battle, for fear of being encompassed, and yet being ashamed to
desert his friends and confederates in their extreme danger, was thus
forced to sit still, and see them ruined before his face. For the
besieged despaired of relief, and delivered up themselves to Sertorius,
who spared their lives and granted them their liberty, but burnt their
city, not out of anger or cruelty, for of all commanders that ever
were, Sertorius seems least of all to have indulged these passions, but
only for the greater shame and confusion of the admirers of Pompey, and
that it might be reported amongst the Spaniards, that though he had
been so close to the fire which burnt down the city of his confederates
as actually to feel the heat of it, he still had not dared to make any
opposition.
Sertorius, however, sustained many losses; but he always maintained
himself and those immediately with him undefeated, and it was by other
commanders under him that he suffered; and he was more admired for
being able to repair his losses, and for recovering the victory, than
the Roman generals against him for gaining these advantages; as at the
battle of the Sucro against Pompey, and at the battle near Tuttia,
against him and Metellus together. The battle near the Sucro was
fought, it is said, through the impatience of Pompey, lest Metellus
should share with him in the victory, Sertorius being also willing to
engage Pompey before the arrival of Metellus. Sertorius delayed the
time till the evening, considering that the darkness of the night would
be a disadvantage to his enemies, whether flying or pursuing, being
strangers, and having no knowledge of the country. When the fight
began, it happened that Sertorius was not placed directly against
Pompey, but against Afranius, who had command of the left wing of the
Roman army, as he commanded the right wing of his own; but when he
understood that his left wing began to give way, and yield to the
assault of Pompey, he committed the care of his right wing to other
commanders, and made haste to relieve those in distress; and rallying
some that were flying, and encouraging others that still kept their
ranks, he renewed the fight, and attacked the enemy in their pursuit so
effectively as to cause a considerable rout, and brought Pompey into
great danger of his life. For after being wounded and losing his horse,
he escaped unexpectedly. For the Africans with Sertorius, who took
Pompey's horse, set out with gold, and covered with rich trappings,
fell out with one another; and upon the dividing of the spoil, gave
over the pursuit. Afranius, in the meantime, as soon as Sertorius had
left his right wing, to assist the other part of his army, overthrew
all that opposed him; and pursuing them to their camp, fell in together
with them, and plundered them till it was dark night; knowing nothing
of Pompey's overthrow, nor being able to restrain his soldiers from
pillaging; when Sertorius, returning with victory, fell upon him and
upon his men, who were all in disorder, and slew many of them. And the
next morning he came into the field again, well armed, and offered
battle, but perceiving that Metellus was near, he drew off, and
returned to his camp, saying, "If this old woman had not come up, I
would have whipped that boy soundly and sent him to Rome."
He was much concerned that his white hind could nowhere be found; as he
was thus destitute of an admirable contrivance to encourage the
barbarous people, at a time when he most stood in need of it. Some men,
however, wandering in the night, chanced to meet her, and knowing her
by her color, took her; to whom Sertorius promised a good reward, if
they would tell no one of it; and immediately shut her up. A few days
after, he appeared in public with a very cheerful look, and declared to
the chief men of the country, that the gods had foretold him in a dream
that some great good fortune should shortly attend him; and, taking his
seat, proceeded to answer the petitions of those who applied themselves
to him. The keepers of the hind, who were not far off, now let her
loose, and she no sooner espied Sertorius, but she came leaping with
great joy to his feet, laid her head upon his knees, and licked his
hands, as she formerly used to do. And Sertorius stroking her, and
making much of her again, with that tenderness that the tears stood in
his eyes, all that were present were immediately filled with wonder and
astonishment, and accompanying him to his house with loud shouts for
joy, looked upon him as a person above the rank of mortal men, and
highly beloved by the gods; and were in great courage and hope for the
future.
When he had reduced his enemies to the last extremity for want of
provision, he was forced to give them battle, in the plains near
Saguntum, to hinder them from foraying, and plundering the country.
Both parties fought gloriously. Memmius, the best commander in Pompey's
army, was slain in the heat of the battle. Sertorius over threw all
before him, and with great slaughter of his enemies pressed forward
towards Metellus. This old commander, making a resistance beyond what
could be expected from one of his years, was wounded with a lance; an
occurrence which filled all who either saw it or heard of it, with
shame, to be thought to have left their general in distress, but at the
same time it provoked them to revenge and fury against their enemies;
they covered Metellus with their shields, and brought him off in
safety, and then valiantly repulsed the Spaniards; and so victory
changed sides, and Sertorius, that he might afford a more secure
retreat to his army, and that fresh forces might more easily be raised,
retired into a strong city in the mountains. And though it was the
least of his intention to sustain a long siege, yet he began to repair
the walls, and to fortify the gates, thus deluding his enemies, who
came and sat down before the town, hoping to take it without much
resistance; and meantime gave over the pursuit of the Spaniards, and
allowed opportunity for raising new forces for Sertorius, to which
purpose he had sent commanders to all their cities, with orders, when
they had sufficiently increased their numbers, to send him word of it.
This news he no sooner received, but he sallied out and forced his way
through his enemies, and easily joined them with the rest of his army.
And having received this considerable reinforcement, he set upon the
Romans again, and by rapidly assaulting them, by alarming them on all
sides, by ensnaring, circumventing, and laying ambushes for them, he
cut off all provisions by land, while with his piratical vessels, he
kept all the coast in awe, and hindered their supplies by sea. He thus
forced the Roman generals to dislodge, and to separate from one
another: Metellus departed into Gaul, and Pompey wintered among the
Vaccaeans, in a wretched condition, where, being in extreme want of
money, he wrote a letter to the senate, to let them know that if they
did not speedily supply him, he must draw off his army; for he had
already spent his own money in the defense of Italy. To these
extremities, the chiefest and the most powerful commanders of the age
were reduced by the skill of Sertorius; and it was the common opinion
in Rome, that he would be in Italy before Pompey.
How far Metellus was terrified, and at what rate he esteemed him, he
plainly declared, when he offered by proclamation a hundred talents,
and twenty thousand acres of land, to any Roman that should kill him,
and leave, if he were banished, to return; attempting villainously to
buy his life by treachery, when he despaired of ever being able to
overcome him in open war. And when once he gained the advantage in a
battle against Sertorius, he was so pleased and transported with his
good fortune, that he caused himself to be publicly proclaimed
imperator; and all the cities which he visited received him with altars
and sacrifices; he allowed himself, it is said, to have garlands placed
on his head, and accepted sumptuous entertainments, at which he sat
drinking in triumphal robes, while images and figures of victory were
introduced by the motion of machines, bringing in with them crowns and
trophies of gold to present to him, and companies of young men and
women danced before him, and sang to him songs of joy and triumph. By
all which he rendered himself deservedly ridiculous, for being so
excessively delighted and puffed up with the thoughts of having
followed one who was retiring of his own accord, and for having once
had the better of him whom he used to call Sylla's runaway slave, and
his forces, the remnant of the defeated troops of Carbo.
Sertorius, meantime, showed the loftiness of his temper in calling
together all the Roman senators who had fled from Rome, and had come
and resided with him, and giving them the name of a senate; and out of
these he chose praetors and quaestors, and adorned his government with
all the Roman laws and institutions. And though he made use of the
arms, riches, and cities of the Spaniards, yet he would never, even in
word, remit to them the imperial authority, but set Roman officers and
commanders over them, intimating his purpose to restore liberty to the
Romans, not to raise up the Spaniard's power against them. For he was a
sincere lover of his country, and had a great desire to return home;
but in his adverse fortune he showed undaunted courage, and behaved
himself towards his enemies in a manner free from all dejection and
mean-spiritedness; and when he was in his prosperity, and in the height
of his victories, he sent word to Metellus and Pompey, that he was
ready to lay down his arms, and live a private life, if he were allowed
to return home, declaring that he had rather live as the meanest
citizen in Rome, than, exiled from it, be supreme commander of all
other cities together. And it is thought that his great desire for his
country was in no small measure promoted by the tenderness he had for
his mother, under whom he was brought up after the death of his father,
and upon whom he had placed his entire affection. And after that his
friends had sent for him into Spain to be their general, as soon as he
heard of his mother's death, he had almost cast away himself and died
for grief; for he lay seven days together continually in his tent,
without giving the word, or being seen by the nearest of his friends;
and when the chief commanders of the army, and persons of the greatest
note came about his tent, with great difficulty they prevailed with him
at last to come abroad, and speak to his soldiers, and to take upon him
the management of affairs, which were in a prosperous condition. And
thus, to many men's judgment, he seemed to have been in himself of a
mild and compassionate temper, and naturally given to ease and
quietness, and to have accepted of the command of military forces
contrary to his own inclination, and not being able to live in safety
otherwise, to have been driven by his enemies to have recourse to arms,
and to espouse the wars as a necessary guard for the defense of his
person.
His negotiations with king Mithridates further argue the greatness of
his mind. For when Mithridates, recovering himself from his overthrow
by Sylla, like a strong wrestler that gets up to try another fall, was
again endeavoring to reestablish his power in Asia, at this time the
great fame of Sertorius was celebrated in all places and when the
merchants who came out of the western parts of Europe, bringing these,
as it were, among their other foreign wares, had filled the kingdom of
Pontus with their stories of his exploits in war, Mithridates was
extremely desirous to send an embassy to him, being also highly
encouraged to it by the boastings of his flattering courtiers, who,
comparing Mithridates to Pyrrhus, and Sertorius to Hannibal, professed
that the Romans would never be able to make any considerable resistance
against such great forces, and such admirable commanders, when they
should be set upon on both sides at once, on one by the most warlike
general, and on the other by the most powerful prince in existence.
Accordingly, Mithridates sends ambassadors into Spain to Sertorius with
letters and instructions, and commission to promise ships and money
towards the charge of the war, if Sertorius would confirm his
pretensions upon Asia, and authorize him to possess all that he had
surrendered to the Romans in his treaty with Sylla. Sertorius summoned
a full council which he called a senate, where, when others joyfully
approved of the conditions, and were desirous immediately to accept of
his offer, seeing that he desired nothing of them but a name, and an
empty title to places not in their power to dispose of, in recompense
of which they should be supplied with what they then stood most in need
of, Sertorius would by no means agree to it; declaring that he was
willing that king Mithridates should exercise all royal power and
authority over Bithynia and Cappadocia, countries accustomed to a
monarchical government, and not belonging to Rome, but he could never
consent that he should seize or detain a province, which, by the
justest right and title, was possessed by the Romans, which Mithridates
had formerly taken away from them, and had afterwards lost in open war
to Fimbria, and quitted upon a treaty of peace with Sylla. For he
looked upon it as his duty to enlarge the Roman possessions by his
conquering arms, and not to increase his own power by the diminution of
the Roman territories. Since a noble-minded man, though he willingly
accepts of victory when it comes with honor, will never so much as
endeavor to save his own life upon any dishonorable terms.
When this was related to Mithridates, he was struck with amazement, and
said to his intimate friends, "What will Sertorius enjoin us to do when
he comes to be seated in the Palatium in Rome, who at present, when he
is driven out to the borders of the Atlantic sea, sets bounds to our
kingdoms in the east, and threatens us with war, if we attempt the
recovery of Asia?" However, they solemnly, upon oath, concluded a
league between them, upon these terms: that Mithridates should enjoy
the free possession of Cappadocia and Bithynia, and that Sertorius
should send him soldiers, and a general for his army, in recompense of
which the king was to supply him with three thousand talents and forty
ships. Marcus Marius, a Roman senator who had quitted Rome to follow
Sertorius, was sent general into Asia, in company with whom when
Mithridates had reduced divers of the Asian cities, Marius made his
entrance with rods and axes carried before him, and Mithridates
followed in the second place, voluntarily waiting upon him. Some of
these cities he set at liberty, and others he freed from taxes,
signifying to them that these privileges were granted to them by the
favor of Sertorius, and hereby Asia, which had been miserably tormented
by the revenue-farmers, and oppressed by the insolent pride and
covetousness of the soldiers, began to rise again to new hopes, and to
look forward with joy to the expected change of government.
But in Spain, the senators about Sertorius, and others of the nobility,
finding themselves strong enough for their enemies, no sooner laid
aside fear, but their minds were possessed by envy and irrational
jealousies of Sertorius's power. And chiefly Perpenna, elevated by the
thoughts of his noble birth, and carried away with a fond ambition of
commanding the army, threw out villainous discourses in private amongst
his acquaintance. "What evil genius," he would say, "hurries us
perpetually from worse to worse? We who disdained to obey the dictates
of Sylla, the ruler of sea and land, and thus to live at home in peace
and quiet, are come hither to our destruction, hoping to enjoy our
liberty, and have made ourselves slaves of our own accord, and are
become the contemptible guards and attendants of the banished
Sertorius, who, that he may expose us the further, gives us name that
renders us ridiculous to all that hear it, and calls us the Senate,
when at the same time he makes us undergo as much hard labor, and
forces us to be as subject to his haughty commands and insolences, as
any Spaniards and Lusitanians." With these mutinous discourses, he
seduced them; and though the greater number could not be led into open
rebellion against Sertorius, fearing his power, they were prevailed
with to endeavor to destroy his interest secretly. For by abusing the
Lusitanians and Spaniards, by inflicting severe punishments upon them,
by raising exorbitant taxes, and by pretending that all this was done
by the strict command of Sertorius, they caused great troubles, and
made many cities to revolt; and those who were sent to mitigate and
heal these differences, did rather exasperate them, and increase the
number of his enemies, and left them at their return more obstinate and
rebellious than they found them. And Sertorius, incensed with all this,
now so far forgot his former clemency and goodness, as to lay hands on
the sons of the Spaniards, educated in the city of Oscar and, contrary
to all justice, he cruelly put some of them to death, and sold others.
In the meantime, Perpenna, having increased the number of his
conspirators, drew in Manlius, a commander in the army, who, at that
time being attached to a youth, to gain his affections the more,
discovered the confederacy to him, bidding him neglect others, and be
constant to him alone; who, in a few days, was to be a person of great
power and authority. But the youth having a greater inclination for
Aufidius, disclosed all to him, which much surprised and amazed him.
For he was also one of the confederacy, but knew not that Manlius was
anyways engaged in it; but when the youth began to name Perpenna,
Gracinus, and others, whom he knew very well to be sworn conspirators,
he was very much terrified and astonished; but made light of it to the
youth, and bade him not regard what Manlius said, a vain boasting
fellow. However, he went presently to Perpenna, and giving him notice
of the danger they were in, and of the shortness of their time, desired
him immediately to put their designs in execution. And when all the
confederates had consented to it, they provided a messenger who brought
feigned letters to Sertorius, in which he had notice of a victory
obtained, it said, by one of his lieutenants, and of the great
slaughter of his enemies; and as Sertorius, being extremely well
pleased, was sacrificing and giving thanks to the gods for his
prosperous success, Perpenna invited him, and those with him, who were
also of the conspiracy, to an entertainment, and being very
importunate, prevailed with him to come. At all suppers and
entertainments where Sertorius was present, great order and decency was
wont to be observed, for he would not endure to hear or see any thing
that was rude or unhandsome, but made it the habit of all who kept his
company, to entertain themselves with quiet and inoffensive amusements.
But in the middle of this entertainment, those who sought occasion to
quarrel, fell into dissolute discourse openly, and making as if they
were very drunk, committed many insolences on purpose to provoke him.
Sertorius, being offended with their ill behavior, or perceiving the
state of their minds by their way of speaking and their unusually
disrespectful manner, changed the posture of his lying, and leaned
backward, as one that neither heard nor regarded them. Perpenna now
took a cup full of wine, and, as he was drinking, let it fall out of
his hand and make a noise, which was the sign agreed upon amongst them;
and Antonius, who was next to Sertorius, immediately wounded him with
his sword. And whilst Sertorius, upon receiving the wound, turned
himself, and strove to get up, Antonius threw himself upon his breast,
and held both his hands, so that he died by a number of blows, without
being able even to defend himself.
Upon the first news of his death, most of the Spaniards left the
conspirators, and sent ambassadors to Pompey and Metellus, and yielded
themselves up to them. Perpenna attempted to do something with those
that remained, but he made only so much use of Sertorius's arms and
preparations for war, as to disgrace himself in them, and to let it be
evident to all, that he understood no more how to command, than he knew
how to obey; and when he came against Pompey, he was soon overthrown,
and taken prisoner. Neither did he bear this last affliction with any
bravery, but having Sertorius's papers and writings in his hands, he
offered to show Pompey letters from persons of consular dignity, and of
the highest quality in Rome, written with their own hands, expressly to
call Sertorius into Italy, and to let him know what great numbers there
were that earnestly desired to alter the present state of affairs, and
to introduce another manner of government. Upon this occasion, Pompey
behaved not like a youth, or one of a light inconsiderate mind, but as
a man of a confirmed, mature, and solid judgment; and so freed Rome
from great fears and dangers of change. For he put all Sertorius's
writings and letters together and read not one of them, nor suffered
anyone else to read them, but burnt them all, and caused Perpenna
immediately to be put to death, lest by discovering their names,
further troubles and revolutions might ensue.
Of the rest of the conspirators with Perpenna, some were taken and
slain by the command of Pompey, others fled into Africa, and were set
upon by the Moors, and run through with their darts; and in a short
time, not one of them was left alive, except only Aufidius, the rival
of Manlius, who, hiding himself, or not being much inquired after, died
an old man, in an obscure village in Spain, in extreme poverty, and
hated by all.
EUMENES
Duris reports that Eumenes, the Cardian, was the son of a poor wagoner
in the Thracian Chersonesus, yet liberally educated, both as a scholar
and a soldier; and that while he was but young, Philip, passing through
Cardia, diverted himself with a sight of the wrestling-matches and
other exercises of the youth of that place, among whom Eumenes
performing with success, and showing signs of intelligence and bravery,
Philip was so pleased with him, as to take him into his service. But
they seem to speak more probably, who tell us that Philip advanced
Eumenes for the friendship he bore to his father, whose guest he had
sometime been. After the death of Philip, he continued in the service
of Alexander, with the title of his principal secretary, but in as
great favor as the most intimate of his familiars, being esteemed as
wise and faithful as any person about him, so that he went with troops
under his immediate command as general in the expedition against India,
and succeeded to the post of Perdiccas, when Perdiccas was advanced to
that of Hephaestion, then newly deceased. And therefore, after the
death of Alexander, when Neoptolemus, who had been captain of his
lifeguard, said that he had followed Alexander with shield and spear,
but Eumenes only with pen and paper, the Macedonians laughed at him, as
knowing very well that, besides other marks of favor, the king had done
him the honor to make him a kind of kinsman to himself by marriage. For
Alexander's first mistress in Asia, by whom he had his son Hercules,
was Barsine the daughter of Artabazus; and in the distribution of the
Persian ladies amongst his captains, Alexander gave Apame, one of her
sisters, to Ptolemy, and another, also called Barsine, to Eumenes.
Notwithstanding, he frequently incurred Alexander's displeasure, and
put himself into some danger, through Hephaestion. The quarters that
had been taken up for Eumenes, Hephaestion assigned to Euius, the
flute-player. Upon which, in great anger, Eumenes and Mentor came to
Alexander, and loudly complained, saying that the way to be regarded
was to throw away their arms, and turn flute-players or tragedians; so
much so that Alexander took their part and chid Hephaestion; but soon
after changed his mind again, and was angry with Eumenes, and accounted
the freedom he had taken to be rather an affront to the king, than a
reflection upon Hephaestion. Afterwards, when Nearchus, with a fleet,
was to be sent to the Southern Sea, Alexander borrowed money of his
friends, his own treasury being exhausted, and would have had three
hundred talents of Eumenes, but he sent a hundred only, pretending;
that it was not without great difficulty he had raised so much from his
stewards. Alexander neither complained nor took the money, but gave
private order to set Eumenes's tent on fire, designing to take him in a
manifest lie, when his money was carried out. But before that could be
done, the tent was consumed, and Alexander repented of his orders, all
his papers being burnt; the gold and silver, however, which was melted
down in the fire, being afterwards collected, was found to be more than
one thousand talents; yet Alexander took none of it, and only wrote to
the several governors and generals to send new copies of the papers
that were burnt, and ordered them to be delivered to Eumenes.
Another difference happened between him and Hephaestion concerning a
gift, and a great deal of ill language passed between them, yet Eumenes
still continued in favor. But Hephaestion dying soon after, the king,
in his grief, presuming all those that differed with Hephaestion in his
lifetime were now rejoicing at his death, showed much harshness and
severity in his behavior with them, especially towards Eumenes, whom he
often upbraided with his quarrels and ill language to Hephaestion. But
he, being a wise and dexterous courtier, made advantage of what had
done him prejudice, and struck in with the king's passion for
glorifying his friend's memory, suggesting various plans to do him
honor, and contributing largely and readily towards erecting his
monument.
After Alexander's death, when the quarrel broke out between the troops
of the phalanx and the officers, his companions, Eumenes, though in his
judgment he inclined to the latter, yet in his professions stood
neuter, as if he thought it unbecoming him, who was a stranger, to
interpose in the private quarrels of the Macedonians. And when the rest
of Alexander's friends left Babylon, he stayed behind, and did much to
pacify the foot-soldiers, and to dispose them towards an accommodation.
And when the officers had agreed among themselves, and, recovering from
the first disorder, proceeded to share out the several commands and
provinces, they made Eumenes governor of Cappadocia and Paphlagonia,
and all the coast upon the Pontic Sea as far as Trebizond, which at
that time was not subject to the Macedonians, for Ariarathes kept it as
king, but Leonnatus and Antigonus, with a large army, were to put him
in possession of it. Antigonus, already filled with hopes of his own,
and despising all men, took no notice of Perdiccas's letters; but
Leonnatus with his army came down into Phrygia to the service of
Eumenes. But being visited by Hecataeus, the tyrant of the Cardians,
and requested rather to relieve Antipater and the Macedonians that were
besieged in Lamia, he resolved upon that expedition, inviting Eumenes
to a share in it, and endeavoring to reconcile him to Hecataeus. For
there was an hereditary feud between them, arising out of political
differences, and Eumenes had more than once been known to denounce
Hecataeus as a tyrant, and to exhort Alexander to restore the Cardians
their liberty. Therefore at this time, also, he declined the expedition
proposed, pretending that he feared lest Antipater, who already hated
him, should for that reason and to gratify Hecataeus, kill him.
Leonnatus so far believed, as to impart to Eumenes his whole design,
which, as he had pretended and given out, was to aid Antipater, but in
truth was to seize the kingdom of Macedon; and he showed him letters
from Cleopatra, in which, it appeared, she invited him to Pella, with
promises to marry him. But Eumenes, whether fearing Antipater, or
looking upon Leonnatus as a rash, headstrong, and unsafe man, stole
away from him by night, taking with him all his men, namely, three
hundred horse, and two hundred of his own servants armed, and all his
gold, to the value of five thousand talents of silver, and fled to
Perdiccas, discovered to him Leonnatus's design, and thus gained great
interest with him, and was made of the council. Soon after, Perdiccas,
with a great army, which he led himself, conducted Eumenes into
Cappadocia, and, having taken Ariarathes prisoner, and subdued the
whole country, declared him governor of it. He accordingly proceeded to
dispose of the chief cities among his own friends, and made captains of
garrisons, judges, receivers, and other officers, of such as he thought
fit himself, Perdiccas not at all interposing. Eumenes, however, still
continued to attend upon Perdiccas, both out of respect to him, and a
desire not to be absent from the royal family.
But Perdiccas, believing he was able enough to attain his own further
objects without assistance, and that the country he left behind him
might stand in need of an active and faithful governor, when he came
into Cilicia, dismissed Eumenes, under color of sending him to his
command, but in truth to secure Armenia, which was on its frontier, and
was unsettled through the practices of Neoptolemus. Him, a proud and
vain man, Eumenes exerted himself to gain by personal attentions; but
to balance the Macedonian foot, whom he found insolent and self-willed,
he contrived to raise an army of horse, excusing from tax and
contribution all those of the country that were able to serve on
horseback, and buying up a number of horses, which he distributed among
such of his own men as he most confided in, stimulating the courage of
his new soldiers by gifts and honors, and inuring their bodies to
service, by frequent marching and exercising; so that the Macedonians
were some of them astonished, others overjoyed, to see that in so short
a time he had got together a body of no less than six thousand three
hundred horsemen.
But when Craterus and Antipater, having subdued the Greeks, advanced
into Asia, with intentions to quell the power of Perdiccas, and were
reported to design an invasion of Cappadocia, Perdiccas, resolving
himself to march against Ptolemy, made Eumenes commander-in-chief of
all the forces of Armenia and Cappadocia, and to that purpose wrote
letters, requiring Alcetas and Neoptolemus to be obedient to Eumenes,
and giving full commission to Eumenes to dispose and order all things
as he thought fit. Alcetas flatly refused to serve, because his
Macedonians, he said, were ashamed to fight against Antipater, and
loved Craterus so well, they were ready to receive him for their
commander. Neoptolemus designed treachery against Eumenes, but was
discovered; and being summoned, refused to obey, and put himself in a
posture of defense. Here Eumenes first found the benefit of his own
foresight and contrivance, for his foot being beaten, he routed
Neoptolemus with his horse, and took all his baggage; and coming up
with his whole force upon the phalanx while broken and disordered in
its flight, obliged the men to lay down their arms, and take an oath to
serve under him. Neoptolemus, with some few stragglers whom he rallied,
fled to Craterus and Antipater. From them had come an embassy to
Eumenes, inviting him over to their side, offering to secure him in his
present government and to give him additional command, both of men and
of territory, with the advantage of gaining his enemy Antipater to
become his friend, and keeping Craterus his friend from turning to be
his enemy. To which Eumenes replied, that he could not so suddenly be
reconciled to his old enemy Antipater, especially at a time when he saw
him use his friends like enemies, but was ready to reconcile Craterus
to Perdiccas, upon any just and equitable terms; but in case of any
aggression, he would resist the injustice to his last breath, and would
rather lose his life than betray his word.
Antipater, receiving this answer, took time to consider upon the whole
matter; when Neoptolemus arrived from his defeat, and acquainted them
with the ill success of his arms, and urged them to give him
assistance, to come, both of them, if possible, but Craterus at any
rate, for the Macedonians loved him so excessively, that if they saw
but his hat, or heard his voice, they would all pass over in a body
with their arms. And in truth, Craterus had a mighty name among them,
and the soldiers after Alexander's death were extremely fond of him,
remembering how he had often for their sakes incurred Alexander's
displeasure, doing his best to withhold him when he began to follow the
Persian fashions, and always maintaining the customs of his country,
when, through pride and luxuriousness, they began to be disregarded.
Craterus, therefore, sent on Antipater into Cilicia, and himself and
Neoptolemus marched with a large division of the army against Eumenes;
expecting to come upon him unawares, and to find his army disordered
with reveling after the late victory. Now that Eumenes should suspect
his coming, and be prepared to receive him, is an argument of his
vigilance, but not perhaps a proof of any extraordinary sagacity, but
that he should contrive both to conceal from his enemies the
disadvantages of his position, and from his own men whom they were to
fight with, so that he led them on against Craterus himself, without
their knowing that he commanded the enemy, this, indeed, seems to show
peculiar address and skill in the general. He gave out that Neoptolemus
and Pigres were approaching with some Cappadocian and Paphlagonian
horse. And at night, having resolved on marching, he fell asleep, and
had an extraordinary dream. For he thought he saw two Alexanders ready
to engage, each commanding his several phalanx, the one assisted by
Minerva, the other by Ceres; and that after a hot dispute, he on whose
side Minerva was, was beaten, and Ceres, gathering ears of corn, wove
them into a crown for the victor. This vision Eumenes interpreted at
once as boasting success to himself, who was to fight for a fruitful
country, and at that very time covered with the young ears, the whole
being sowed with corn, and the fields so thick with it, that they made
a beautiful show of a long peace. And he was further emboldened, when
he understood that the enemy's pass-word was Minerva and Alexander.
Accordingly he also gave out as his, Ceres and Alexander, and gave his
men orders to make garlands for themselves, and to dress their arms
with wreaths of corn. He found himself under many temptations to
discover to his captains and officers whom they were to engage with,
and not to conceal a secret of such moment in his own breast alone, yet
he kept to his first resolutions, and ventured to run the hazard of his
own judgment.
When he came to give battle, he would not trust any Macedonian to
engage Craterus, but appointed two troops of foreign horse, commanded
by Pharnabazus, son to Artabazus, and Phoenix of Tenedos, with order to
charge as soon as ever they saw the enemy, without giving them leisure
to speak or retire, or receiving any herald or trumpet from them. For
he was exceedingly afraid about his Macedonians, lest, if they found
out Craterus to be there, they should go over to his side. He himself,
with three hundred of his best horse, led the right wing against
Neoptolemus. When having passed a little hill they came in view, and
were seen advancing with more than ordinary briskness, Craterus was
amazed, and bitterly reproached Neoptolemus for deceiving him with
hopes of the Macedonians' revolt, but he encouraged his men to do
bravely, and forthwith charged. The first engagement was very fierce,
and the spears being soon broken to pieces, they came to close fighting
with their swords; and here Craterus did by no means dishonor
Alexander, but slew many of his enemies, and repulsed many assaults,
but at last received a wound in his side from a Thracian, and fell off
his horse. Being down, many not knowing him went past him, but Gorgias,
one of Eumenes's captains, knew him, and alighting from his horse, kept
guard over him, as he lay badly wounded and slowly dying. In the
meantime Neoptolemus and Eumenes were engaged; who, being inveterate
and mortal enemies, sought for one another, but missed for the two
first courses, but in the third discovering one another, they drew
their swords, and with loud shouts immediately charged. And their
horses striking against one another like two galleys, they quitted
their reins, and taking mutual hold pulled at one another's helmets,
and at the armor from their shoulders. While they were thus struggling,
their horses went from under them, and they fell together to the
ground, there again still keeping their hold and wrestling. Neoptolemus
was getting up first, but Eumenes wounded him in the ham, and got upon
his feet before him. Neoptolemus supporting himself upon one knee, the
other leg being disabled, and himself undermost, fought courageously,
though his blows were not mortal, but receiving a stroke in the neck he
fell and ceased to resist. Eumenes, transported with passion and his
inveterate hatred to him, fell to reviling and stripping him, and
perceived not that his sword was still in his hand. And with this he
wounded Eumenes under the bottom of his corslet in the groin, but in
truth more frightened than hurt him; his blow being faint for want of
strength. Having stripped the dead body, ill as he was with the wounds
he had received in his legs and arms, he took horse again, and hurried
towards the left wing of his army, which he supposed to be still
engaged. Hearing of the death of Craterus, he rode up to him, and
finding there was yet some life in him, alighted from his horse and
wept, and laying his right hand upon him, inveighed bitterly against
Neoptolemus, and lamented both Craterus's misfortune and his own hard
fate, that he should be necessitated to engage against an old friend
and acquaintance, and either do or suffer so much mischief.
This victory Eumenes obtained about ten days after the former, and got
great reputation alike for his conduct and his valor in achieving it.
But on the other hand, it created him great envy both among his own
troops, and his enemies, that he, a stranger and a foreigner, should
employ the forces and arms of Macedon, to cut off the bravest and most
approved man among them. Had the news of this defeat come timely enough
to Perdiccas, he had doubtless been the greatest of all the
Macedonians; but now, he being slain in a mutiny in Egypt, two days
before the news arrived, the Macedonians in a rage decreed Eumenes's
death, giving joint commission to Antigonus and Antipater to prosecute
the war against him. Passing by Mount Ida, where there was a royal
establishment of horses, Eumenes took as many as he had occasion for,
and sent an account of his doing so to the overseers, at which
Antipater is said to have laughed, calling it truly laudable in Eumenes
thus to hold himself prepared for giving in to them (or would it be
taking from them?) strict account of all matters of administration.
Eumenes had designed to engage in the plains of Lydia, near Sardis,
both because his chief strength lay in horse, and to let Cleopatra see
how powerful he was. But at her particular request, for she was afraid
to give any umbrage to Antipater, he marched into the upper Phrygia,
and wintered in Celaenae; when Alcetas, Polemon, and Docimus disputing
with him who should command in chief, "You know," said he, "the old
saying, That destruction regards no punctilios." Having promised his
soldiers pay within three days, he sold them all the farms and castles
in the country, together with the men and beasts with which they were
filled; every captain or officer that bought, received from Eumenes the
use of his engines to storm the place, and divided the spoil among his
company, proportionably to every man's arrears. By this Eumenes came
again to be popular, so that when letters were found thrown about the
camp by the enemy, promising one hundred talents, besides great honors,
to anyone that should kill Eumenes, the Macedonians were extremely
offended, and made an order that from that time forward one thousand of
their best men should continually guard his person, and keep strict
watch about him by night in their several turns. This order was
cheerfully obeyed, and they gladly received of Eumenes the same honors
which the kings used to confer upon their favorites. He now had leave
to bestow purple hats and cloaks, which among the Macedonians is one of
the greatest honors the king can give.
Good fortune will elevate even petty minds, and gives them the
appearance of a certain greatness and stateliness, as from their high
place they look down upon the world; but the truly noble and resolved
spirit raises itself, and becomes more conspicuous in times of disaster
and ill fortune, as was now the case with Eumenes. For having by the
treason of one of his own men lost the field to Antigonus at Orcynii,
in Cappadocia, in his flight he gave the traitor no opportunity to
escape to the enemy, but immediately seized and hanged him. Then in his
flight, taking a contrary course to his pursuers, he stole by them
unawares, returned to the place where the battle had been fought, and
encamped. There he gathered up the dead bodies, and burnt them with the
doors and windows of the neighboring villages, and raised heaps of
earth upon their graves; insomuch that Antigonus, who came thither soon
after, expressed his astonishment at his courage and firm resolution.
Falling afterwards upon the baggage of Antigonus, he might easily have
taken many captives, both bond and freemen, and much wealth collected
from the spoils of so many wars; but he feared lest his men, overladen
with so much booty, might become unfit for rapid retreat, and too fond
of their ease to sustain the continual marches and endure the long
waiting on which he depended for success, expecting to tire Antigonus
into some other course. But then considering it would be extremely
difficult to restrain the Macedonians from plunder, when it seemed to
offer itself, he gave them order to refresh themselves, and bait their
horses, and then attack the enemy. In the meantime he sent privately to
Menander, who had care of all this baggage, professing a concern for
him upon the score of old friendship and acquaintance; and therefore
advising him to quit the plain and secure himself upon the sides of the
neighboring hills, where the horse might not be able to hem him in.
When Menander, sensible of his danger, had speedily packed up his goods
and decamped, Eumenes openly sent his scouts to discover the enemy's
posture, and commanded his men to arm, and bridle their horses, as
designing immediately to give battle; but the scouts returning with
news that Menander had secured so difficult a post it was impossible to
take him, Eumenes, pretending to be grieved with the disappointment,
drew off his men another way. It is said that when Menander reported
this afterwards to Antigonus, and the Macedonians commended Eumenes,
imputing it to his singular good-nature, that having it in his power to
make slaves of their children, and outrage their wives, he forbore and
spared them all, Antigonus replied, "Alas, good friends, he had no
regard to us, but to himself, being loath to wear so many shackles when
he designed to fly."
From this time Eumenes, daily flying and wandering about, persuaded
many of his men to disband, whether out of kindness to them, or
unwillingness to lead about such a body of men as were too few to
engage, and too many to fly undiscovered. Taking refuge at Nora, a
place on the confines of Lycaonia and Cappadocia, with five hundred
horse, and two hundred heavy-armed foot, he again dismissed as many of
his friends as desired it, through fear of the probable hardships to be
encountered there, and embracing them with all demonstrations of
kindness, gave them license to depart. Antigonus, when he came before
this fort, desired to have an interview with Eumenes before the siege;
but he returned answer, that Antigonus had many friends who might
command in his room; but they whom Eumenes defended, had no body to
substitute if he should miscarry; therefore, if Antigonus thought it
worth while to treat with him, he should first send him hostages. And
when Antigonus required that Eumenes should first address himself to
him as his superior, he replied, "While I am able to wield a sword, I
shall think no man greater than myself." At last, when according to
Eumenes's demand, Antigonus sent his own nephew Ptolemy to the fort,
Eumenes went out to him, and they mutually embraced with great
tenderness and friendship, as having formerly been very intimate. After
long conversation, Eumenes making no mention of his own pardon and
security, but requiring that he should be confirmed in his several
governments, and restitution be made him of the rewards of his service,
all that were present were astonished at his courage and gallantry. And
many of the Macedonians flocked to see what sort of person Eumenes was,
for since the death of Craterus, no man had been so much talked of in
the army. But Antigonus, being afraid lest he might suffer some
violence, first commanded the soldiers to keep off, calling out and
throwing stones at those who pressed forwards. At last, taking Eumenes
in his arms, and keeping off the crowd with his guards, not without
great difficulty, he returned him safe into the fort.
Then Antigonus, having built a wall round Nora, left a force sufficient
to carry on the siege, and drew off the rest of his army; and Eumenes
was beleaguered and kept garrison, having plenty of corn and water and
salt but no other thing, either for food, or delicacy; yet with such as
he had, he kept a cheerful table for his friends, inviting them
severally in their turns, and seasoning his entertainment with a gentle
and affable behavior. For he had a pleasant countenance, and looked not
like an old and practiced soldier, but was smooth and florid, and his
shape as delicate as if his limbs had been carved by art in the most
accurate proportions. He was not a great orator, but winning and
persuasive, as may be seen in his letters. The greatest distress of the
besieged was the narrowness of the place they were in, their quarters
being very confined, and the whole place but two furlongs in compass;
so that both they and their horses fed without exercise. Accordingly,
not only to prevent the listlessness of such inactive living, but to
have them in condition to fly if occasion required, he assigned a room
one and twenty feet long, the largest in all the fort, for the men to
walk in, directing them to begin their walk gently, and so gradually
mend their pace. And for the horses, he tied them to the roof with
great halters, fastening which about their necks, with a pulley he
gently raised them, till standing upon the ground with their hinder
feet, they just touched it with the very ends of their fore feet. In
this posture the grooms plied them with whips and shouts, provoking
them to curvet and kick out with their hind legs, struggling and
stamping at the same time to find support for their fore feet, and thus
their whole body was exercised, till they were all in a foam and sweat;
excellent exercise, whether for strength or speed; and then he gave
them their corn already coarsely ground, that they might sooner
dispatch, and better digest it.
The siege continuing long, Antigonus received advice that Antipater was
dead in Macedon, and that affairs were embroiled by the differences of
Cassander and Polysperchon, upon which he conceived no mean hopes,
purposing to make himself master of all, and, in order to his design,
thought to bring over Eumenes, that he might have his advice and
assistance. He, therefore, sent Hieronymus to treat with him, proposing
a certain oath, which Eumenes first corrected, and then referred
himself to the Macedonians themselves that besieged him, to be judged
by them, which of the two forms were the most equitable. Antigonus in
the beginning of his had slightly mentioned the kings as by way of
ceremony, while all the sequel referred to himself alone; but Eumenes
changed the form of it to Olympias and the kings, and proceeded to
swear not to be true to Antigonus only, but to them, and to have the
same friends and enemies, not with Antigonus, but with Olympias and the
kings. This form the Macedonians thinking the more reasonable, swore
Eumenes according to it, and raised the siege, sending also to
Antigonus, that he should swear in the same form to Eumenes. Meantime,
all the hostages of the Cappadocians whom Eumenes had in Nora he
returned, obtaining from their friends war horses, beasts of carriage,
and tents in exchange. And collecting again all the soldiers who had
dispersed at the time of his flight, and were now wandering about the
country, he got together a body of near a thousand horse, and with them
fled from Antigonus, whom he justly feared. For he had sent orders not
only to have him blocked up and besieged again, but had given a very
sharp answer to the Macedonians, for admitting Eumenes's amendment of
the oath.
While Eumenes was flying, he received letters from those in Macedonia,
who were jealous of Antigonus's greatness, from Olympias, inviting him
thither, to take the charge and protection of Alexander's infant son,
whose person was in danger, and other letters from Polysperchon, and
Philip the king, requiring him to make war upon Antigonus, as general
of the forces in Cappadocia, and empowering him out of the treasure at
Quinda to take five hundred talents, compensation for his own losses,
and to levy as much as he thought necessary to carry on the war. They
wrote also to the same effect to Antigenes and Teutamus, the chief
officers of the Argyraspids; who, on receiving these letters, treated
Eumenes with a show of respect and kindness; but it was apparent enough
they were full of envy and emulation, disdaining to give place to him.
Their envy Eumenes moderated, by refusing to accept the money, as if he
had not needed it; and their ambition and emulation, who were neither
able to govern, nor willing to obey, he conquered by help of
superstition. For he told them that Alexander had appeared to him in a
dream, and showed him a regal pavilion richly furnished, with a throne
in it; and told him if they would sit in council there, he himself
would be present and prosper all the consultations and actions upon
which they should enter in his name. Antigenes and Teutamus were easily
prevailed upon to believe this, being as little willing to come and
consult Eumenes, as he himself was to be seen waiting at other men's
doors. Accordingly, they erected a tent royal, and a throne, called
Alexander's, and there they met to consult upon all affairs of moment.
Afterwards they advanced into the interior of Asia, and in their march
met with Peucestes, who was friendly to them, and with the other
satraps, who joined forces with them, and greatly encouraged the
Macedonians with the number and appearance of their men. But they
themselves, having since Alexander's decease become imperious and
ungoverned in their tempers, and luxurious in their daily habits,
imagining themselves great princes, and pampered in their conceit by
the flattery of the barbarians, when all these conflicting pretensions
now came together, were soon found to be exacting and quarrelsome one
with another, while all alike unmeasurably flattered the Macedonians,
giving them money for revels and sacrifices, till in a short time they
brought the camp to be a dissolute place of entertainment, and the army
a mere multitude of voters, canvassed as in a democracy for the
election of this or that commander. Eumenes, perceiving they despised
one another, and all of them feared him, and sought an opportunity to
kill him, pretended to be in want of money, and borrowed many talents,
of those especially who most hated him, to make them at once confide in
him, and forbear all violence to him for fear of losing their own
money. Thus his enemies' estates were the guard of his person, and by
receiving money he purchased safety, for which it is more common to
give it.
The Macedonians, also, while there was no show of danger, allowed
themselves to be corrupted, and made all their court to those who gave
them presents, who had their body-guards, and affected to appear as
generals-in-chief. But when Antigonus came upon them with a great army,
and their affairs themselves seemed to call out for a true general,
then not only the common soldiers cast their eyes upon Eumenes, but
these men, who had appeared so great in a peaceful time of ease,
submitted all of them to him, and quietly posted themselves severally
as he appointed them. And when Antigonus attempted to pass the river
Pasitigris, all the rest that were appointed to guard the passes were
not so much as aware of his march; only Eumenes met and encountered
him, slew many of his men, and filled the river with the dead, and took
four thousand prisoners. But it was most particularly when Eumenes was
sick, that the Macedonians let it be seen how in their judgment, while
others could feast them handsomely and make entertainments, he alone
knew how to fight and lead an army. For Peucestes, having made a
splendid entertainment in Persia, and given each of the soldiers a
sheep to sacrifice with, made himself sure of being commander-in-chief.
Some few days after, the army was to march, and Eumenes, having been
dangerously ill, was carried in a litter apart from the body of the
army, that any rest he got might not be disturbed. But when they were a
little advanced, unexpectedly they had a view of the enemy, who had
passed the hills that lay between them, and was marching down into the
plain. At the sight of the golden armor glittering in the sun as they
marched down in their order, the elephants with their castles on their
backs, and the men in their purple, as their manner was when they were
going to give battle, the front stopped their march, and called out for
Eumenes, for they would not advance a step but under his conduct; and
fixing their arms in the ground, gave the word among themselves to
stand, requiring their officers also not to stir or engage or hazard
themselves without Eumenes. News of this being brought to Eumenes, he
hastened those that carried his litter, and drawing back the curtains
on both sides, joyfully put forth his right hand. As soon as the
soldiers saw him, they saluted him in their Macedonian dialect, and
took up their shields, and striking them with their pikes, gave a great
shout; inviting the enemy to come on, for now they had a leader.
Antigonus understanding by some prisoners he had taken that Eumenes was
out of health, to that degree that he was carried in a litter, presumed
it would be no hard matter to crush the rest of them, since he was ill.
He therefore made the greater haste to come up with them and engage.
But being come so near as to discover how the enemy was drawn up and
appointed, he was astonished, and paused for some time; at last he saw
the litter carrying from one wing of the army to the other, and, as his
manner was, laughing aloud, he said to his friends, "That litter there,
it seems, is the thing that offers us battle;" and immediately wheeled
about, retired with all his army, and pitched his camp. The men on the
other side, finding a little respite, returned to their former habits,
and allowing themselves to be flattered, and making the most of the
indulgence of their generals, took up for their winter quarters near
the whole country of the Gabeni, so that the front was quartered nearly
a thousand furlongs from the rear; which Antigonus understanding,
marched suddenly towards them, taking the most difficult road through a
country that wanted water; but the way was short though uneven; hoping,
if he should surprise them thus scattered in their winter quarters, the
soldiers would not easily be able to come up time enough, and join with
their officers. But having to pass through a country uninhabited, where
he met with violent winds and severe frosts, he was much checked in his
march, and his men suffered exceedingly. The only possible relief was
making numerous fires, by which his enemies got notice of his coming.
For the barbarians who dwelt on the mountains overlooking the desert,
amazed at the multitude of fires they saw, sent messengers upon
dromedaries to acquaint Peucestes. He being astonished and almost out
of his senses with the news, and finding the rest in no less disorder,
resolved to fly, and collect what men he could by the way. But Eumenes
relieved him from his fear and trouble, undertaking so to stop the
enemy's advance, that he should arrive three days later than he was
expected. Having persuaded them, he immediately dispatched expresses to
all the officers to draw the men out of their winter quarters, and
muster them with all speed. He himself with some of the chief officers
rode out, and chose an elevated tract within view, at a distance, of
such as traveled the desert; this he occupied and quartered out, and
commanded many fires to be made in it, as the custom is in a camp. This
done, and the enemies seeing the fire upon the mountains, Antigonus was
filled with vexation and despondency, supposing that his enemies had
been long since advertised of his march, and were prepared to receive
him. Therefore, lest his army, now tired and wearied out with their
march, should be forced immediately to encounter with fresh men, who
had wintered well, and were ready for him, quitting the near way, he
marched slowly through the towns and villages to refresh his men. But
meeting with no such skirmishes as are usual when two armies lie near
one another, and being assured by the people of the country that no
army had been seen, but only continual fires in that place, he
concluded he had been outwitted by a stratagem of Eumenes, and much
troubled, advanced to give open battle.
By this time, the greatest part of the forces were come together to
Eumenes, and admiring his sagacity, declared him alone
commander-in-chief of the whole army; upon which Antigenes and
Teutamus, the commanders of the Argyraspids, being very much offended,
and envying Eumenes, formed a conspiracy against him; and assembling
the greater part of the satraps and officers, consulted when and how to
cut him off. When they had unanimously agreed, first to use his service
in the next battle, and then to take an occasion to destroy him,
Eudamus, the master of the elephants, and Phaedimus, gave Eumenes
private advice of this design, not out of kindness or good-will to him,
but lest they should lose the money they had lent him. Eumenes, having
commended them, retired to his tent, and telling his friends he lived
among a herd of wild beasts, made his will, and tore up all his
letters, lest his correspondents after his death should be questioned
or punished on account of anything in his secret papers. Having thus
disposed of his affairs, he thought of letting the enemy win the field,
or of flying through Media and Armenia and seizing Cappadocia, but came
to no resolution while his friends stayed with him. After turning to
many expedients in his mind, which his changeable fortune had made
versatile, he at last put his men in array, and encouraged the Greeks
and barbarians; as for the phalanx and the Argyraspids, they encouraged
him, and bade him be of good heart; for the enemy would never be able
to stand them. For indeed they were the oldest of Philip's and
Alexander's soldiers, tried men, that had long made war their exercise,
that had never been beaten or foiled; most of them seventy, none less
than sixty years old. And so when they charged Antigonus's men, they
cried out, "You fight against your fathers, you rascals," and furiously
falling on, routed the whole phalanx at once, nobody being able to
stand them, and the greatest part dying by their hands. So that
Antigonus's foot were routed, but his horse got the better, and he
became master of the baggage, through the cowardice of Peucestes, who
behaved himself negligently and basely; while Antigonus used his
judgment calmly in the danger, being aided moreover by the ground. For
the place where they fought was a large plain, neither deep, nor hard
under foot, but, like the sea-shore, covered with a fine soft sand,
which the treading of so many men and horses, in the time of the
battle, reduced to a small white dust, that like a cloud of lime
darkened the air, so that one could not see clearly at any distance,
and so made it easy for Antigonus to take the baggage unperceived.
After the battle, Teutamus sent a message to Antigonus to demand the
baggage. He made answer, he would not only restore it to the
Argyraspids, but serve them further in other things if they would but
deliver up Eumenes. Upon which the Argyraspids took a villainous
resolution to deliver him up alive into the hands of his enemies. So
they came to wait upon him, being unsuspected by him, but watching
their opportunity, some lamenting the loss of the baggage, some
encouraging him as if he had been victor, some accusing the other
commanders, till at last they all fell upon him, and seizing his sword,
bound his hands behind him with his own girdle. When Antigonus had sent
Nicanor to receive him, he begged he might be led through the body of
the Macedonians, and have liberty to speak to them, neither to request,
nor deprecate anything, but only to advise them what would be for their
interest. A silence being made, as he stood upon a rising ground, he
stretched out his hands bound, and said, "What trophy, O ye basest of
all the Macedonians, could Antigonus have wished for so great as you
yourselves have erected for him, in delivering up your general captive
into his hands? You are not ashamed, when you are conquerors, to own
yourselves conquered, for the sake only of your baggage, as if it were
wealth, not arms, wherein victory consisted; nay, you deliver up your
general to redeem your stuff. As for me, I am unvanquished, though a
captive, conqueror of my enemies, and betrayed by my fellow soldiers.
For you, I adjure you by Jupiter, the protector of arms, and by all the
gods that are the avengers of perjury, to kill me here with your own
hands; for it is all one; and if I am murdered yonder, it will be
esteemed your act, nor will Antigonus complain, for he desires not
Eumenes alive, but dead. Or if you withhold your own hands, release but
one of mine, it shall suffice to do the work; and if you dare not trust
me with a sword throw me bound as I am under the feet of the wild
beasts. This if you do I shall freely acquit you from the guilt of my
death, as the most just and kind of men to their general."
While Eumenes was thus speaking, the rest of the soldiers wept for
grief, but the Argyraspids shouted out to lead him on, and give no
attention to his trilling. For it was no such great matter if this
Chersonesian pest should meet his death, who in thousands of battles
had annoyed and wasted the Macedonians; it would be a much more
grievous thing for the choicest of Philip's and Alexander's soldiers to
be defrauded of the fruits of so long service, and in their old age to
come to beg their bread, and to leave their wives three nights in the
power of their enemies. So they hurried him on with violence. But
Antigonus, fearing the multitude, for nobody was left in the camp, sent
ten of his strongest elephants with divers of his Mede and Parthian
lances to keep off the press. Then he could not endure to have Eumenes
brought into his presence, by reason of their former intimacy and
friendship; but when they that had taken him inquired how he would have
him kept, "As I would," said he, "an elephant, or a lion." A little
after, being loved with compassion, he commanded the heaviest of his
irons to be knocked off, one of his servants to be admitted to anoint
him, and that any of his friends that were willing should have liberty
to visit him, and bring him what he wanted. Long time he deliberated
what to do with him, sometimes inclining to the advice and promises of
Nearchus of Crete, and Demetrius his son, who were very earnest to
preserve Eumenes, whilst all the rest were unanimously instant and
importunate to have him taken off. It is related that Eumenes inquired
of Onomarchus, his keeper, why Antigonus, now he had his enemy in his
hands, would not either forthwith dispatch or generously release him?
And that Onomarchus contumeliously answered him, that the field had
been a more proper place than this to show his contempt of death. To
whom Eumenes replied, "And by heavens, I showed it there; ask the men
else that engaged me, but I could never meet a man that was my
superior." "Therefore," rejoined Onomarchus, "now you have found such a
man, why don't you submit quietly to his pleasure?"
When Antigonus resolved to kill Eumenes, he commanded to keep his food
from him, and so with two or three days' fasting he began to draw near
his end; but the camp being on a sudden to remove, an executioner was
sent to dispatch him. Antigonus granted his body to his friends,
permitted them to burn it, and having gathered his ashes into a silver
urn, to send them to his wife and children.
Eumenes was thus taken off; and Divine Providence assigned to no other
man the chastisement of the commanders and soldiers that had betrayed
him; but Antigonus himself, abominating the Argyraspids as wicked and
inhuman villains, delivered them up to Sibyrtius, the governor of
Arachosia, commanding him by all ways and means to destroy and
exterminate them, so that not a man of them might ever come to Macedon,
or so much as within sight of the Greek sea.
COMPARISON OF SERTORIUS WITH EUMENES
These are the most remarkable passages that are come to our knowledge
concerning Eumenes and Sertorius. In comparing their lives, we may
observe that this was common to them both; that being aliens,
strangers, and banished men, they came to be commanders of powerful
forces, and had the leading of numerous and warlike armies, made up of
divers nations. This was peculiar to Sertorius, that the chief command
was, by his whole party, freely yielded to him, as to the person of the
greatest merit and renown, whereas Eumenes had many who contested the
office with him, and only by his actions obtained the superiority. They
followed the one honestly, out of desire to be commanded by him; they
submitted themselves to the other for their own security, because they
could not commend themselves. The one, being a Roman, was the general
of the Spaniards and Lusitanians, who for many years had been under the
subjection of Rome; and the other, a Chersonesian, was chief commander
of the Macedonians, who were the great conquerors of mankind, and were
at that time subduing the world. Sertorius, being already in high
esteem for his former services in the wars, and his abilities in the
senate, was advanced to the dignity of a general; whereas Eumenes
obtained this honor from the office of a writer, or secretary, in which
he had been despised. Nor did he only at first rise from inferior
opportunities, but afterwards, also, met with greater impediments in
the progress of his authority, and that not only from those who
publicly resisted him, but from many others that privately conspired
against him. It was much otherwise with Sertorius, not one of whose
party publicly opposed him, only late in life and secretly a few of his
acquaintance entered into a conspiracy against him. Sertorius put an
end to his dangers as often as he was victorious in the field, whereas
the victories of Eumenes were the beginning of his perils, through the
malice of those that envied him.
Their deeds in war were equal and parallel, but their general
inclinations different. Eumenes naturally loved war and contention, but
Sertorius esteemed peace and tranquillity; when Eumenes might have
lived in safety, with honor, if he would have quietly retired out of
their way, he persisted in a dangerous contest with the greatest of the
Macedonian leaders; but Sertorius, who was unwilling to trouble himself
with any public disturbances, was forced, for the safety of his person,
to make war against those who would not suffer him to live in peace. If
Eumenes could have contented himself with the second place, Antigonus,
freed from his competition for the first, would have used him well, and
shown him favor, whereas Pompey's friends would never permit Sertorius
so much as to live in quiet. The one made war of his own accord, out of
a desire for command; and the other was constrained to accept of
command, to defend himself from war that was made against him. Eumenes
was certainly a true lover of war, for he preferred his covetous
ambition before his own security; but Sertorius was truly warlike, who
procured his own safety by the success of his arms.
As to the manner of their deaths, it happened to one without the least
thought or surmise of it; but to the other when he suspected it daily;
which in the first, argues an equitable temper, and a noble mind, not
to distrust his friends; but in the other, it showed some infirmity of
spirit, for Eumenes intended to fly and was taken. The death of
Sertorius dishonored not his life; he suffered that from his companions
which none of his enemies were ever able to perform. The other, not
being able to deliver himself before his imprisonment, being willing
also to live in captivity, did neither prevent nor expect his fate with
honor or bravery; for by meanly supplicating and petitioning, he made
his enemy, that pretended only to have power over his body, to be lord
and master of his body and mind.
AGESILAUS
Archidamus, the son of Zeuxidamus, having reigned gloriously over the
Lacedaemonians, left behind him two sons, Agis the elder, begotten of
Lampido, a noble lady, Agesilaus, much the younger, born of Eupolia,
the daughter of Melesippidas. Now the succession belonging to Agis by
law, Agesilaus, who in all probability was to be but a private man, was
educated according to the usual discipline of the country, hard and
severe, and meant to teach young men to obey their superiors. Whence it
was that, men say, Simonides called Sparta "the tamer of men," because
by early strictness of education, they, more than any nation, trained
the citizens to obedience to the laws, and made them tractable and
patient of subjection, as horses that are broken in while colts. The
law did not impose this harsh rule on the heirs apparent of the
kingdom. But Agesilaus, whose good fortune it was to be born a younger
brother, was consequently bred to all the arts of obedience, and so the
better fitted for the government, when it fell to his share; hence it
was that he proved the most popular-tempered of the Spartan kings, his
early life having added to his natural kingly and commanding qualities
the gentle and humane feelings of a citizen.
While he was yet a boy, bred up in one of what are called the flocks,
or classes, he attracted the attachment of Lysander, who was
particularly struck with the orderly temper that he manifested. For
though he was one of the highest spirits, emulous above any of his
companions, ambitious of preeminence in everything, and showed an
impetuosity and fervor of mind which irresistibly carried him through
all opposition or difficulty he could meet with; yet, on the other
side, he was so easy and gentle in his nature, and so apt to yield to
authority, that though he would do nothing on compulsion, upon
ingenuous motives he would obey any commands, and was more hurt by the
least rebuke or disgrace, than he was distressed by any toil or
hardship.
He had one leg shorter than the other, but this deformity was little
observed in the general beauty of his person in youth. And the easy way
in which he bore it, (he being the first always to pass a jest upon
himself,) went far to make it disregarded. And indeed his high spirit
and eagerness to distinguish himself were all the more conspicuous by
it, since he never let his lameness withhold him from any toil or any
brave action. Neither his statue nor picture are extant, he never
allowing them in his life, and utterly forbidding them to be made after
his death. He is said to have been a little man, of a contemptible
presence; but the goodness of his humor, and his constant cheerfulness
and playfulness of temper, always free from anything of moroseness or
haughtiness, made him more attractive, even to his old age, than the
most beautiful and youthful men of the nation. Theophrastus writes,
that the Ephors laid a fine upon Archidamus for marrying a little wife,
"For" said they, "she will bring us a race of kinglets, instead of
kings."
Whilst Agis, the elder brother, reigned, Alcibiades, being then an
exile from Athens, came from Sicily to Sparta; nor had he stayed long
there, before his familiarity with Timaea, the king's wife, grew
suspected, insomuch that Agis refused to own a child of hers, which, he
said, was Alcibiades's, not his. Nor, if we may believe Duris, the
historian, was Timaea much concerned at it, being herself forward
enough to whisper among her helot maid-servants, that the infant's true
name was Alcibiades, not Leotychides. Meanwhile it was believed, that
the amour he had with her was not the effect of his love but of his
ambition, that he might have Spartan kings of his posterity. This
affair being grown public, it became needful for Alcibiades to withdraw
from Sparta. But the child Leotychides had not the honors due to a
legitimate son paid him, nor was he ever owned by Agis, till by his
prayers and tears he prevailed with him to declare him his son before
several witnesses upon his death-bed. But this did not avail to fix him
in the throne of Agis, after whose death Lysander, who had lately
achieved his conquest of Athens by sea, and was of the greatest power
in Sparta, promoted Agesilaus, urging Leotychides's bastardy as a bar
to his pretensions. Many of the other citizens, also, were favorable to
Agesilaus and zealously joined his party, induced by the opinion they
had of his merits, of which they themselves had been spectators, in the
time that he had been bred up among them. But there was a man, named
Diopithes, at Sparta, who had a great knowledge of ancient oracles, and
was thought particularly skillful and clever in all points of religion
and divination. He alleged, that it was unlawful to make a lame man
king of Lacedaemon, citing in the debate the following oracle: --
Beware, great Sparta, lest there come of thee
Though sound thyself; an halting sovereignty;
Troubles, both long and unexpected too,
And storms of deadly warfare shall ensue.
But Lysander was not wanting with an evasion, alleging that if the
Spartans were really apprehensive of the oracle, they must have a care
of Leotychides; for it was not the limping foot of a king that the gods
cared about, but the purity of the Herculean family, into whose sights
if a spurious issue were admitted, it would make the kingdom to halt
indeed. Agesilaus likewise alleged, that the bastardy of Leotychides
was witnessed to by Neptune, who threw Agis out of bed by a violent
earthquake, after which time he ceased to visit his wife, yet
Leotychides was born above ten months after this.
Agesilaus was upon these allegations declared king, and soon possessed
himself of the private estate of Agis, as well as his throne,
Leotychides being wholly rejected as a bastard. He now turned his
attention to his kindred by the mother's side, persons of worth and
virtue, but miserably poor. To them he gave half his brother's estate,
and by this popular act gained general good-will and reputation, in the
place of the envy and ill-feeling which the inheritance might otherwise
have procured him. What Xenophon tells us of him, that by complying
with, and, as it were, being ruled by his country, he grew into such
great power with them, that he could do what he pleased, is meant to
apply to the power he gained in the following manner with the Ephors
and Elders. These were at that time of the greatest authority in the
State; the former, officers annually chosen; the Elders, holding their
places during life; both instituted, as already told in the life of
Lycurgus, to restrain the power of the kings. Hence it was that there
was always from generation to generation, a feud and contention between
them and the kings. But Agesilaus took another course. Instead of
contending with them, he courted them; in all proceedings he commenced
by taking their advice, was always ready to go, nay almost run, when
they called him; if he were upon his royal seat hearing causes and the
Ephors came in, he rose to them; whenever any man was elected into the
Council of Elders, he presented him with a gown and an ox. Thus, whilst
he made show of deference to them, and of a desire to extend their
authority, he secretly advanced his own, and enlarged the prerogatives
of the kings by several liberties which their friendship to his person
conceded.
To other citizens he so behaved himself, as to be less blamable in his
enmities than in his friendships; for against his enemy he forbore to
take any unjust advantage, but his friends he would assist, even in
what was unjust. If an enemy had done anything praiseworthy, he felt it
shameful to detract from his due, but his friends he knew not how to
reprove when they did ill, nay, he would eagerly join with them, and
assist them in their misdeed, and thought all offices of friendship
commendable, let the matter in which they were employed be what it
would. Again, when any of his adversaries was overtaken in a fault, he
would be the first to pity him, and be soon entreated to procure his
pardon, by which he won the hearts of all men. Insomuch that his
popularity grew at last suspected by the Ephors, who laid a fine on
him, professing that he was appropriating the citizens to himself, who
ought to be the common property of the State. For as it is the opinion
of philosophers, that could you take away strife and opposition out of
the universe, all the heavenly bodies would stand still, generation and
motion would cease in the mutual concord and agreement of all things,
so the Spartan legislator seems to have admitted ambition and
emulation, among the ingredients of his Commonwealth as the incentives
of virtue, distinctly wishing that there should be some dispute and
competition among his men of worth, and pronouncing the mere idle,
uncontested, mutual compliance to unproved deserts to be but a false
sort of concord. And some think Homer had an eye to this, when he
introduces Agamemnon well pleased with the quarrel arising between
Ulysses and Achilles, and with the "terrible words" that passed between
them, which he would never have done, unless he had thought emulations
and dissensions between the noblest men to be of great public benefit.
Yet this maxim is not simply to be granted, without restriction, for if
animosities go too far, they are very dangerous to cities, and of most
pernicious consequence.
When Agesilaus was newly entered upon the government, there came news
from Asia, that the Persian king was making great naval preparations,
resolving with a high hand to dispossess the Spartans of their maritime
supremacy. Lysander was eager for the opportunity of going over and
succoring his friends in Asia, whom he had there left governors and
masters of the cities, whose mal-administration and tyrannical behavior
was causing them to be driven out, and in some cases put to death. He
therefore persuaded Agesilaus to claim the command of the expedition,
and by carrying the war far from Greece into Persia, to anticipate the
designs of the barbarian. He also wrote to his friends in Asia, that by
embassy they should demand Agesilaus for their captain. Agesilaus,
therefore, coming into the public assembly, offered his service, upon
condition that he might have thirty Spartans for captains and
counselors, two thousand chosen men of the newly enfranchised helots,
and allies to the number of six thousand. Lysander's authority and
assistance soon obtained his request, so that he was sent away with the
thirty Spartans, of whom Lysander was at once the chief, not only
because of his power and reputation, but also on account of his
friendship with Agesilaus, who esteemed his procuring him this charge a
greater obligation, than that of preferring him to the kingdom.
Whilst the army was collecting to the rendezvous at Geraestus,
Agesilaus went with some of his friends to Aulis, where in a dream he
saw a man approach him, and speak to him after this manner: "O king of
the Lacedaemonians, you cannot but know that, before yourself, there
hath been but one general captain of the whole of the Greeks, namely,
Agamemnon; now, since you succeed him in the same office and command of
the same men, since you war against the same enemies, and begin your
expedition from the same place, you ought also to offer such a
sacrifice, as he offered before he weighed anchor." Agesilaus at the
same moment remembered that the sacrifice which Agamemnon offered was
his own daughter, he being so directed by the oracle. Yet was he not at
all disturbed at it, but as soon as he arose, he told his dream to his
friends, adding, that he would propitiate the goddess with the
sacrifices a goddess must delight in, and would not follow the ignorant
example of his predecessor. He therefore ordered a hind to be crowned
with chaplets, and bade his own soothsayer perform the rite, not the
usual person whom the Boeotians, in ordinary course, appointed to that
office. When the Boeotian magistrates understood it, they were much
offended, and sent officers to Agesilaus, to forbid his sacrificing
contrary to the laws of the country. These having delivered their
message to him, immediately went to the altar, and threw down the
quarters of the hind that lay upon it. Agesilaus took this very ill,
and without further sacrifice immediately sailed away, highly
displeased with the Boeotians, and much discouraged in his mind at the
omen, boding to himself an unsuccessful voyage, and an imperfect issue
of the whole expedition.
When he came to Ephesus, he found the power and interest of Lysander,
and the honors paid to him, insufferably great; all applications were
made to him, crowds of suitors attended at his door, and followed upon
his steps, as if nothing but the mere name of commander belonged, to
satisfy the usage, to Agesilaus, the whole power of it being devolved
upon Lysander. None of all the commanders that had been sent into Asia
was either so powerful or so formidable as he; no one had rewarded his
friends better, or had been more severe against his enemies; which
things having been lately done, made the greater impression on men's
minds, especially when they compared the simple and popular behavior of
Agesilaus, with the harsh and violent and brief-spoken demeanor which
Lysander still retained. Universal deference was yielded to this, and
little regard shown to Agesilaus. This first occasioned offense to the
other Spartan captains, who resented that they should rather seem the
attendants of Lysander, than the councilors of Agesilaus. And at length
Agesilaus himself, though not perhaps all envious man in his nature,
nor apt to be troubled at the honors redounding upon other men, yet
eager for honor and jealous of his glory, began to apprehend that
Lysander's greatness would carry away from him the reputation of
whatever great action should happen. He therefore went this way to
work. He first opposed him in all his counsels; whatever Lysander
specially advised was rejected, and other proposals followed. Then
whoever made any address to him, if he found him attached to Lysander,
certainly lost his suit. So also in judicial cases, anyone whom he
spoke strongly against was sure to come off with success, and any man
whom he was particularly solicitous to procure some benefit for, might
think it well if he got away without an actual loss. These things being
clearly not done by chance, but constantly and of a set purpose,
Lysander was soon sensible of them, and hesitated not to tell his
friends, that they suffered for his sake, bidding them apply themselves
to the king, and such as were more powerful with him than he was. Such
sayings of his seeming to be designed purposely to excite ill feeling,
Agesilaus went on to offer him a yet more open affront, appointing him
his meat-carver; and would in public companies scornfully say, "Let
them go now and pay their court to my carver." Lysander, no longer able
to brook these indignities, complained at last to Agesilaus himself,
telling him, that he knew very well how to humble his friends.
Agesilaus answered, "I know certainly how to humble those who pretend
to more power than myself." "That," replied Lysander, "is perhaps
rather said by you, than done by me; I desire only, that you will
assign me some office and place, in which I may serve you without
incurring your displeasure."
Upon this Agesilaus sent him to the Hellespont, whence he procured
Spithridates, a Persian of the province of Pharnabazus, to come to the
assistance of the Greeks with two hundred horse, and a great supply of
money. Yet his anger did not so come down, but he thenceforward pursued
the design of wresting the kingdom out of the hands of the two families
which then enjoyed it, and making it wholly elective; and it is thought
that he would on account of this quarrel have excited a great commotion
in Sparta, if he had not died in the Boeotian war. Thus ambitious
spirits in a commonwealth, when they transgress their bounds, are apt
to do more harm than good. For though Lysander's pride and assumption
was most ill-timed and insufferable in its display, yet Agesilaus
surely could have found some other way of setting him right, less
offensive to a man of his reputation and ambitious temper. Indeed they
were both blinded with the same passion, so as one not to recognize the
authority of his superior, the other not to bear with the imperfections
of his friend.
Tisaphernes being at first afraid of Agesilaus, treated with him about
setting the Grecian cities at liberty, which was agreed on. But soon
after finding a sufficient force drawn together, he resolved upon war,
for which Agesilaus was not sorry. For the expectation of this
expedition was great, and he did not think it for his honor, that
Xenophon with ten thousand men should march through the heart of Asia
to the sea, beating the Persian forces when and how he pleased, and
that he at the head of the Spartans, then sovereigns both at sea and
land, should not achieve some memorable action for Greece. And so to be
even with Tisaphernes, he requites his perjury by a fair stratagem. He
pretends to march into Caria, whither when he had drawn Tisaphernes and
his army, he suddenly turns back, and falls upon Phrygia, takes many of
their cities, and carries away great booty, showing his allies, that to
break a solemn league was a downright contempt of the gods, but the
circumvention of an enemy in war was not only just but glorious, a
gratification at once and an advantage.
Being weak in horse, and discouraged by ill omens in the sacrifices, he
retired to Ephesus, and there raised cavalry. He obliged the rich men,
that were not inclined to serve in person, to find each of them a
horseman armed and mounted; and there being many who preferred doing
this, the army was quickly reinforced by a body, not of unwilling
recruits for the infantry, but of brave and numerous horsemen. For
those that were not good at fighting themselves, hired such as were
more military in their inclinations, and such as loved not
horse-service substituted in their places such as did. Agamemnon's
example had been a good one, when he took the present of an excellent
mare, to dismiss a rich coward from the army.
When by Agesilaus's order the prisoners he had taken in Phrygia were
exposed to sale, they were first stripped of their garments, and then
sold naked. The clothes found many customers to buy them, but the
bodies being, from the want of all exposure and exercise, white and
tender-skinned, were derided and scorned as unserviceable. Agesilaus,
who stood by at the auction, told his Greeks, "These are the men
against whom ye fight, and these the things you will gain by it."
The season of the year being come, he boldly gave out that he would
invade Lydia; and this plaindealing of his was now mistaken for a
stratagem by Tisaphernes, who, by not believing Agesilaus, having been
already deceived by him, overreached himself. He expected that he
should have made choice of Caria, as a rough country, not fit for
horse, in which he deemed Agesilaus to be weak, and directed his own
marches accordingly. But when he found him to be as good as his word,
and to have entered into the country of Sardis, he made great haste
after him, and by great marches of his horse, overtaking the loose
stragglers who were pillaging the country, he cut them off. Agesilaus
meanwhile, considering that the horse had outridden the foot, but that
he himself had the whole body of his own army entire, made haste to
engage them. He mingled his light-armed foot, carrying targets, with
the horse, commanding them to advance at full speed and begin the
battle, whilst he brought up the heavier-armed men in the rear. The
success was answerable to the design; the barbarians were put to the
rout, the Grecians pursued hard, took their camp, and put many of them
to the sword. The consequence of this victory was very great; for they
had not only the liberty of foraging the Persian country, and
plundering at pleasure, but also saw Tisaphernes pay dearly for all the
cruelty he had showed the Greeks, to whom he was a professed enemy. For
the king of Persia sent Tithraustes, who took off his head, and
presently dealt with Agesilaus about his return into Greece, sending to
him ambassadors to that purpose, with commission to offer him great
sums of money. Agesilaus's answer was, that the making of peace
belonged to the Lacedaemonians, not to him; as for wealth, he had
rather see it in his soldiers' hands than his own; that the Grecians
thought it not honorable to enrich themselves with the bribes of their
enemies, but with their spoils only. Yet, that he might gratify
Tithraustes for the justice he had done upon Tisaphernes, the common
enemy of the Greeks, he removed his quarters into Phrygia, accepting
thirty talents for his expenses. Whilst he was upon his march, he
received a staff from the government at Sparta, appointing him admiral
as well as general. This was an honor which was never done to any but
Agesilaus, who being now undoubtedly the greatest and most illustrious
man of his time, still, as Theopompus has said, gave himself more
occasion of glory in his own virtue and merit than was given him in
this authority and power. Yet he committed a fault in preferring
Pisander to the command of the navy, when there were others at hand
both older and more experienced; in this not so much consulting the
public good, as the gratification of his kindred, and especially his
wife, whose brother Pisander was.
Having removed his camp into Pharnabazus's province, he not only met
with great plenty of provisions, but also raised great sums of money,
and marching on to the bounds of Paphlagonia, he soon drew Cotys, the
king of it, into a league, to which he of his own accord inclined, out
of the opinion he had of Agesilaus's honor and virtue. Spithridates,
from the time of his abandoning Pharnabazus, constantly attended
Agesilaus in the camp whithersoever he went. This Spithridates had a
son, a very handsome boy, called Megabates, of whom Agesilaus was
extremely fond, and also a very beautiful daughter, that was
marriageable. Her Agesilaus matched to Cotys, and taking of him a
thousand horse, with two thousand light-armed foot, he returned into
Phrygia, and there pillaged the country of Pharnabazus, who durst not
meet him in the field, nor yet trust to his garrisons, but getting his
valuables together, got out of the way and moved about up and down with
a flying army, till Spithridates joining with Herippidas the Spartan,
took his camp, and all his property. Herippidas being too severe an
inquirer into the plunder with which the barbarian soldiers had
enriched themselves, and forcing them to deliver it up with too much
strictness, so disobliged Spithridates with his questioning and
examining, that he changed sides again, and went off with the
Paphlagonians to Sardis. This was a very great vexation to Agesilaus,
not only that he had lost the friendship of a valiant commander, and
with him a considerable part of his army, but still more that it had
been done with the disrepute of a sordid and petty covetousness, of
which he always had made it a point of honor to keep both himself and
his country clear. Besides these public causes, he had a private one,
his excessive fondness for the son, which touched him to the quick,
though he endeavored to master it, and, especially in presence of the
boy, to suppress all appearance of it; so much so that when Megabates,
for that was his name, came once to receive a kiss from him, he
declined it. At which when the young boy blushed and drew back, and
afterward saluted him at a more reserved distance, Agesilaus soon
repenting his coldness, and changing his mind, pretended to wonder why
he did not salute him with the same familiarity as formerly. His
friends about him answered, "You are in the fault, who would not accept
the kiss of the boy, but turned away in alarm; he would come to you
again, if you would have the courage to let him do so." Upon this
Agesilaus paused a while, and at length answered, "You need not
encourage him to it; I think I had rather be master of myself in that
refusal, than see all things that are now before my eyes turned into
gold." Thus he demeaned himself to Megabates when present, but he had
so great a passion for him in his absence, that it may be questioned
whether if the boy had returned again, all the courage he had would
have sustained him in such another refusal.
After this, Pharnabazus sought an opportunity of conferring with
Agesilaus, which Apollophanes of Cyzicus, the common host of them both,
procured for him. Agesilaus coming first to the appointed place, threw
himself down upon the grass under a tree, lying there in expectation of
Pharnabazus, who, bringing with him soft skins and wrought carpets to
lie down upon, when he saw Agesilaus's posture, grew ashamed of his
luxuries and made no use of them, but laid himself down upon the grass
also, without regard for his delicate and richly dyed clothing.
Pharnabazus had matter enough of complaint against Agesilaus, and
therefore, after the mutual civilities were over, he put him in mind of
the great services he had done the Lacedaemonians in the Attic war, of
which he thought it an ill recompense to have his country thus harassed
and spoiled, by those men who owed so much to him. The Spartans that
were present hung down their heads, as conscious of the wrong they had
done to their ally. But Agesilaus said, "We, O Pharnabazus, when we
were in amity with your master the king, behaved ourselves like
friends, and now that we are at war with him, we behave ourselves as
enemies. As for you, we must look upon you as a part of his property,
and must do these outrages upon you, not intending the harm to you, but
to him whom we wound through you. But whenever you will choose rather
to be a friend to the Grecians, than a slave of the king of Persia, you
may then reckon this army and navy to be all at your command, to defend
both you, your country, and your liberties, without which there is
nothing honorable, or indeed desirable among men." Upon this
Pharnabazus discovered his mind, and answered, "If the king sends
another governor in my room, I will certainly come over to you, but as
long as he trusts me with the government, I shall be just to him, and
not fail to do my utmost endeavors in opposing you." Agesilaus was
taken with the answer, and shook hands with him; and rising, said, "How
much rather had I have so brave a man my friend than mine enemy."
Pharnabazus being gone off, his son, staying behind, ran up to
Agesilaus, and smilingly said, "Agesilaus, I make you my guest;" and
thereupon presented him with a javelin which he had in his hand.
Agesilaus received it, and being much taken with the good mien and the
courtesy of the youth, looked about to see if there were anything in
his train fit to offer him in return; and observing the horse of
Idaeus, the secretary, to have very fine trappings on, he took them
off, and bestowed them upon the young gentleman. Nor did his kindness
rest there, but he continued ever after to be mindful of him, so that
when he was driven out of his country by his brothers, and lived an
exile in Peloponnesus, he took great care of him, and condescended even
to assist him in some love-matters. He had an attachment for a youth of
Athenian birth, who was bred up as an athlete; and when at the Olympic
games this boy, on account of his great size and general strong and
full-grown appearance, was in some danger of not being admitted into
the list, the Persian betook himself to Agesilaus, and made use of his
friendship. Agesilaus readily assisted him, and not without a great
deal of difficulty effected his desires. He was in all other things a
man of great and exact justice, but when the case concerned a friend,
to be straitlaced in point of justice, he said, was only a colorable
presence of denying him. There is an epistle written to Idrieus, prince
of Caria, that is ascribed to Agesilaus; it is this: "If Nicias be
innocent, absolve him; if he be guilty, absolve him upon my account;
however be sure to absolve him." This was his usual character in his
deportment towards his friends. Yet his rule was not without exception;
for sometimes he considered the necessity of his affairs more than his
friend, of which he once gave an example, when upon a sudden and
disorderly removal of his camp, he left a sick friend behind him, and
when he called loudly after him, and implored his help, turned his
back, and said it was hard to be compassionate and wise too. This story
is related by Hieronymus, the philosopher.
Another year of the war being spent, Agesilaus's fame still increased,
insomuch that the Persian king received daily information concerning
his many virtues, and the great esteem the world had of his temperance,
his plain living, and his moderation. When he made any journey, he
would usually take up his lodging in a temple, and there make the gods
witnesses of his most private actions, which others would scarce permit
men to be acquainted with. In so great an army, you should scarce find
common soldier lie on a coarser mattress, than Agesilaus; he was so
indifferent to the varieties of heat and cold, that all the seasons, as
the gods sent them, seemed natural to him. The Greeks that inhabited
Asia were much pleased to see the great lords and governors of Persia,
with all the pride, cruelty, and luxury in which they lived, trembling
and bowing before a man in a poor threadbare cloak, and at one laconic
word out of his mouth, obsequiously deferring and changing their wishes
and purposes. So that it brought to the minds of many the verses of
Timotheus,
Mars is the tyrant, gold Greece does not fear.
Many parts of Asia now revolting from the Persians, Agesilaus restored
order in the cities, and without bloodshed or banishment of any of
their members, reestablished the proper constitution in the
governments, and now resolved to carry away the war from the seaside,
and to march further up into the country, and to attack the king of
Persia himself in his own home in Susa and Ecbatana; not willing to let
the monarch sit idle in his chair, playing umpire in the conflicts of
the Greeks, and bribing their popular leaders. But these great thoughts
were interrupted by unhappy news from Sparta; Epicydidas is from thence
sent to remand him home, to assist his own country, which was then
involved in a great war;
Greece to herself doth a barbarian grow,
Others could not, she doth herself o'erthrow.
What better can we say of those jealousies, and that league and
conspiracy of the Greeks for their own mischief, which arrested fortune
in full career, and turned back arms that were already uplifted against
the barbarians, to be used upon themselves, and recalled into Greece
the war which had been banished out of her? I by no means assent to
Demaratus of Corinth, who said, that those Greeks lost a great
satisfaction, that did not live to see Alexander sit in the throne of
Darius. That sight should rather have drawn tears from them, when they
considered, that they had left that glory to Alexander and the
Macedonians, whilst they spent all their own great commanders in
playing them against each other in the fields of Leuctra, Coronea,
Corinth, and Arcadia.
Nothing was greater or nobler than the behavior of Agesilaus on this
occasion, nor can a nobler instance be found in story, of a ready
obedience and just deference to orders. Hannibal, though in a bad
condition himself, and almost driven out of Italy, could scarcely be
induced to obey, when he was called home to serve his country.
Alexander made a jest of the battle between Agis and Antipater,
laughing and saying, "So, whilst we were conquering Darius in Asia, it
seems there was a battle of mice in Arcadia." Happy Sparta, meanwhile,
in the justice and modesty of Agesilaus, and in the deference he paid
to the laws of his country; who, immediately upon receipt of his
orders, though in the midst of his high fortune and power, and in full
hope of great and glorious success, gave all up and instantly departed,
"his object unachieved," leaving many regrets behind him among his
allies in Asia, and proving by his example the falseness of that saying
of Demostratus, the son of Phaeax, "That the Lacedaemonians were better
in public, but the Athenians in private." For while approving himself
an excellent king and general, he likewise showed himself in private an
excellent friend, and a most agreeable companion.
The coin of Persia was stamped with the figure of an archer; Agesilaus
said, That a thousand Persian archers had driven him out of Asia;
meaning the money that had been laid out in bribing the demagogues and
the orators in Thebes and Athens, and thus inciting those two States to
hostility against Sparta.
Having passed the Hellespont, he marched by land through Thrace, not
begging or entreating a passage anywhere, only he sent his messengers
to them, to demand whether they would have him pass as a friend or as
an enemy. All the rest received him as a friend, and assisted him on
his journey. But the Trallians, to whom Xerxes also is said to have
given money, demanded a price of him, namely, one hundred talents of
silver, and one hundred women. Agesilaus in scorn asked, Why they were
not ready to receive them? He marched on, and finding the Trallians in
arms to oppose him, fought them, and slew great numbers of them. He
sent the like embassy to the king of Macedonia, who replied, He would
take time to deliberate: "Let him deliberate," said Agesilaus, "we will
go forward in the meantime." The Macedonian, being surprised and
daunted at the resolution of the Spartan, gave orders to let him pass
as friend. When he came into Thessaly, he wasted the country, because
they were in league with the enemy. To Larissa, the chief city of
Thessaly, he sent Xenocles and Scythes to treat of a peace, whom when
the Larissaeans had laid hold of, and put into custody, others were
enraged, and advised the siege of the town; but he answered, That he
valued either of those men at more than the whole country of Thessaly.
He therefore made terms with them, and received his men again upon
composition. Nor need we wonder at this saying of Agesilaus, since when
he had news brought him from Sparta, of several great captains slain in
a battle near Corinth, in which the slaughter fell upon other Greeks,
and the Lacedaemonians obtained a great victory with small loss, he did
not appear at all satisfied; but with a great sigh cried out, "O
Greece, how many brave men hast thou destroyed; who, if they had been
preserved to so good an use, had sufficed to have conquered all
Persia!" Yet when the Pharsalians grew troublesome to him, by pressing
upon his army, and incommoding his passage, he led out five hundred
horse, and in person fought and routed them, setting up a trophy under
the mount Narthacius. He valued himself very much upon that victory,
that with so small a number of his own training, he had vanquished a
body of men that thought themselves the best horsemen of Greece.
Here Diphridas, the Ephor, met him, and delivered his message from
Sparta, which ordered him immediately to make an inroad into Boeotia;
and though he thought this fitter to have been done at another time,
and with greater force, he yet obeyed the magistrates. He thereupon
told his soldiers that the day was come, on which they were to enter
upon that employment, for the performance of which they were brought
out of Asia. He sent for two divisions of the army near Corinth to his
assistance. The Lacedaemonians at home, in honor to him, made
proclamation for volunteers that would serve under the king, to come in
and be enlisted. Finding all the young men in the city ready to offer
themselves, they chose fifty of the strongest, and sent them.
Agesilaus having gained Thermopylae, and passed quietly through Phocis,
as soon as he had entered Boeotia, and pitched his camp near Chaeronea,
at once met with an eclipse of the sun, and with ill news from the
navy, Pisander, the Spartan admiral, being beaten and slain at Cnidos,
by Pharnabazus and Conon. He was much moved at it, both upon his own
and the public account. Yet lest his army, being now near engaging,
should meet with any discouragement, he ordered the messengers to give
out, that the Spartans were the conquerors, and he himself putting on a
garland, solemnly sacrificed for the good news, and sent portions of
the sacrifices to his friends.
When he came near to Coronea, and was within view of the enemy, he drew
up his army, and giving the left wing to the Orchomenians, he himself
led the right. The Thebans took the right wing of their army, leaving
the left to the Argives. Xenophon, who was present, and fought on
Agesilaus's side, reports it to be the hardest fought battle that he
had seen. The beginning of it was not so, for the Thebans soon put the
Orchomenians to rout, as also did Agesilaus the Argives. But both
parties having news of the misfortune of their left wings, they betook
themselves to their relief. Here Agesilaus might have been sure of his
victory, had he contented himself not to charge them in the front, but
in the flank or rear; but being angry and heated in the fight, he would
not wait the opportunity, but fell on at once, thinking to bear them
down before him. The Thebans were not behind him in courage, so that
the battle was fiercely carried on on both sides, especially near
Agesilaus's person, whose new guard of fifty volunteers stood him in
great stead that day, and saved his life. They fought with great valor,
and interposed their bodies frequently between him and danger, yet
could they not so preserve him, but that he received many wounds
through his armor with lances and swords, and was with much difficulty
gotten off alive by their making a ring about him, and so guarding him,
with the slaughter of many of the enemy and the loss of many of their
own number. At length finding it too hard a task to break the front of
the Theban troops, they opened their own files, and let the enemy march
through them, (an artifice which in the beginning they scorned,)
watching in the meantime the posture of the enemy, who having passed
through, grew careless, as esteeming themselves past danger; in which
position they were immediately set upon by the Spartans. Yet were they
not then put to rout, but marched on to Helicon, proud of what they had
done, being able to say, that they themselves, as to their part of the
army, were not worsted.
Agesilaus, sore wounded as he was, would not be borne to his tent, till
he had been first carried about the field, and had seen the dead
conveyed within his encampment. As many of his enemies as had taken
sanctuary in the temple, he dismissed. For there stood near the
battlefield, the temple of Minerva the Itonian, and before it a trophy
erected by the Boeotians, for the victory which under the conduct of
Sparton, their general, they obtained over the Athenians under
Tolmides, who himself fell in the battle. And next morning early, to
make trial of the Theban courage, whether they had any mind to a second
encounter, he commanded his soldiers to put on garlands on their heads,
and play with their flutes, and raise a trophy before their faces; but
when they, instead of fighting, sent for leave to bury their dead, he
gave it them; and having so assured himself of the victory, after this
he went to Delphi, to the Pythian games, which were then celebrating,
at which feast he assisted, and there solemnly offered the tenth part
of the spoils he had brought from Asia, which amounted to a hundred
talents.
Thence he returned to his own country, where his way and habits of life
quickly excited the affection and admiration of the Spartans; for,
unlike other generals, he came home from foreign lands the same man
that he went out, having not so learned the fashions of other
countries, as to forget his own, much less to dislike or despise them.
He followed and respected all the Spartan customs, without any change
either in the manner of his supping, or bathing, or his wife's apparel,
as if he had never traveled over the river Eurotas. So also with his
household furniture and his own armor; nay, the very gates of his house
were so old, that they might well be thought of Aristodemus's setting
up. His daughter's Canathrum, says Xenophon, was no richer than that of
any one else. The Canathrum, as they call it, is a chair or chariot
made of wood, in the shape of a griffin, or tragelaphus, on which the
children and young virgins are carried in processions. Xenophon has not
left us the name of this daughter of Agesilaus; and Dicaearchus
expresses some indignation, because we do not know, he says, the name
of Agesilaus's daughter, nor of Epaminondas's mother. But in the
records of Laconia, we ourselves found his wife's name to have been
Cleora, and his two daughters to have been called Eupolia and Prolyta.
And you may also to this day see Agesilaus's spear kept in Sparta,
nothing differing from that of other men.
There was a vanity he observed among the Spartans, about keeping
running horses for the Olympic games, upon which he found they much
valued themselves. Agesilaus regarded it as a display not of any real
virtue, but of wealth and expense; and to make this evident to the
Greeks, induced his sister, Cynisca, to send a chariot into the course.
He kept with him Xenophon, the philosopher, and made much of him, and
proposed to him to send for his children, and educate them at Sparta,
where they would be taught the best of all learning; how to obey, and
how to command. Finding on Lysander's death a large faction formed,
which he on his return from Asia had established against Agesilaus, he
thought it advisable to expose both him and it, by showing what manner
of a citizen he had been whilst he lived. To that end, finding among
his writings all oration, composed by Cleon the Halicarnassean, but to
have been spoken by Lysander in a public assembly, to excite the people
to innovations and changes in the government, he resolved to publish
it, as an evidence of Lysander's practices. But one of the Elders
having the perusal of it, and finding it powerfully written, advised
him to have a care of digging up Lysander again, and rather bury that
oration in the grave with him; and this advice he wisely hearkened to,
and hushed the whole thing up; and ever after forbore publicly to
affront any of his adversaries, but took occasions of picking out the
ringleaders, and sending them away upon foreign services. He thus had
means for exposing the avarice and the injustice of many of them in
their employments; and again when they were by others brought into
question, he made it his business to bring them off, obliging them, by
that means, of enemies to become his friends, and so by degrees left
none remaining.
Agesipolis, his fellow king, was under the disadvantage of being born
of an exiled father, and himself young, modest, and inactive, meddled
not much in affairs. Agesilaus took a course of gaining him over, and
making him entirely tractable. According to the custom of Sparta, the
kings, if they were in town, always dined together. This was
Agesilaus's opportunity of dealing with Agesipolis, whom he found
quick, as he himself was, in forming attachments for young men, and
accordingly talked with him always on such subjects, joining and aiding
him, and acting as his confidant, such attachments in Sparta being
entirely honorable, and attended always with lively feeling of modesty,
love of virtue, and a noble emulation; of which more is said in
Lycurgus's life.
Having thus established his power in the city, he easily obtained that
his half-brother Teleutias might be chosen admiral, and thereupon
making all expedition against the Corinthians, he made himself master
of the long walls by land, through the assistance of his brother at
sea. Coming thus upon the Argives, who then held Corinth, in the midst
of their Isthmian festival, he made them fly from the sacrifice they
had just commenced, and leave all their festive provision behind them.
The exiled Corinthians that were in the Spartan army, desired him to
keep the feast, and to preside in the celebration of it. This he
refused, but gave them leave to carry on the solemnity if they pleased,
and he in the meantime stayed and guarded them. When Agesilaus marched
off, the Argives returned and celebrated the games over again, when
some who were victors before, became victors a second time, others lost
the prizes which before they had gained. Agesilaus thus made it clear
to everybody, that the Argives must in their own eyes have been guilty
of great cowardice, since they set such a value on presiding at the
games, and yet had not dared to fight for it. He himself was of
opinion, that to keep a mean in such things was best; he assisted at
the sports and dances usual in his own country, and was always ready
and eager to be present at the exercises either of the young men, or of
the girls, but things that many men used to be highly taken with, he
seemed not at all concerned about. Callippides, the tragic actor, who
had a great name in all Greece and was made much of, once met and
saluted him; of which when he found no notice taken, he confidently
thrust himself into his train, expecting that Agesilaus would pay him
some attention. When all that failed, he boldly accosted him, and asked
him, whether he did not remember him? Agesilaus turned, and looking him
in the face, "Are you not," said he, "Callippides the showman?" Being
invited once to hear a man who admirably imitated the nightingale, he
declined, saying, he had heard the nightingale itself. Menecrates, the
physician, having had great success in some desperate diseases, was by
way of flattery called Jupiter; he was so vain as to take the name, and
having occasion to write a letter to Agesilaus, thus addressed it:
"Jupiter Menecrates to King Agesilaus, greeting." The king returned
answer: "Agesilaus to Menecrates, health and a sound mind."
Whilst Agesilaus was in the Corinthian territories, having just taken
the Heraeum, he was looking on while his soldiers were carrying away
the prisoners and the plunder, when ambassadors from Thebes came to him
to treat of peace. Having a great aversion for that city, and thinking
it then advantageous to his affairs publicly to slight them, he took
the opportunity, and would not seem either to see them, or hear them
speak. But as if on purpose to punish him in his pride, before they
parted from him, messengers came with news of the complete slaughter of
one of the Spartan divisions by Iphicrates, a greater disaster than had
befallen them for many years; and that the more grievous, because it
was a choice regiment of full-armed Lacedaemonians overthrown by a
parcel of mere mercenary targeteers. Agesilaus leapt from his seat, to
go at once to their rescue, but found it too late, the business being
over. He therefore returned to the Heraeum, and sent for the Theban
ambassadors to give them audience. They now resolved to be even with
him for the affront he gave them, and without speaking one word of the
peace, only desired leave to go into Corinth. Agesilaus, irritated with
this proposal, told them in scorn, that if they were anxious to go and
see how proud their friends were of their success, they should do it
tomorrow with safety. Next morning, taking the ambassadors with him, he
ravaged the Corinthian territories, up to the very gates of the city,
where having made a stand, and let the ambassadors see that the
Corinthians durst not come out to defend themselves, he dismissed them.
Then gathering up the small remainders of the shattered regiment, he
marched homewards, always removing his camp before day, and always
pitching his tents after night, that he might prevent their enemies
among the Arcadians from taking any opportunity of insulting over their
loss.
After this, at the request of the Achaeans, he marched with them into
Acarnania, and there collected great spoils, and defeated the
Acarnanians in battle. The Achaeans would have persuaded him to keep
his winter quarters there, to hinder the Acarnanians from sowing their
corn; but he was of the contrary opinion, alleging, that they would be
more afraid of a war next summer, when their fields were sown, than
they would be if they lay fallow. The event justified his opinion; for
next summer, when the Achaeans began their expedition again, the
Acarnanians immediately made peace with them.
When Conon and Pharnabazus with the Persian navy were grown masters of
the sea, and had not only infested the coast of Laconia, but also
rebuilt the walls of Athens at the cost of Pharnabazus, the
Lacedaemonians thought fit to treat of peace with the king of Persia.
To that end, they sent Antalcidas to Tiribazus, basely and wickedly
betraying the Asiatic Greeks, on whose behalf Agesilaus had made the
war. But no part of this dishonor fell upon Agesilaus, the whole being
transacted by Antalcidas, who was his bitter enemy, and was urgent for
peace upon any terms, because war was sure to increase his power and
reputation. Nevertheless once being told by way of reproach, that the
Lacedaemonians had gone over to the Medes, he replied, "No, the Medes
have come over to the Lacedaemonians." And when the Greeks were
backward to submit to the agreement, he threatened them with war,
unless they fulfilled the king of Persia's conditions, his particular
end in this being to weaken the Thebans; for it was made one of the
articles of peace, that the country of Boeotia should be left
independent. This feeling of his to Thebes appeared further afterwards,
when Phoebidas, in full peace, most unjustifiably seized upon the
Cadmea. The thing was much resented by all Greece, and not well liked
by the Lacedaemonians themselves; those especially who were enemies to
Agesilaus, required an account of the action, and by whose authority it
was done, laying the suspicion of it at his door. Agesilaus resolutely
answered, on the behalf of Phoebidas, that the profitableness of the
act was chiefly to be considered; if it were for the advantage of the
commonwealth, it was no matter whether it were done with or without
authority. This was the more remarkable in him, because in his ordinary
language, he was always observed to be a great maintainer of justice,
and would commend it as the chief of virtues, saying, that valor
without justice was useless, and if all the world were just, there
would be no need of valor. When any would say to him, the Great King
will have it so; he would reply, "How is he greater than I, unless he
be juster?" nobly and rightly taking, as a sort of royal measure of
greatness, justice, and not force. And thus when, on the conclusion of
the peace, the king of Persia wrote to Agesilaus, desiring a private
friendship and relations of hospitality, he refused it, saying, that
the public friendship was enough; whilst that lasted there was no need
of private. Yet in his acts he was not constant to his doctrine, but
sometimes out of ambition, and sometimes out of private pique, he let
himself be carried away; and particularly in this case of the Thebans,
he not only saved Phoebidas, but persuaded the Lacedaemonians to take
the fault upon themselves, and to retain the Cadmea, putting a garrison
into it, and to put the government of Thebes into the hands of Archias
and Leontidas, who had been betrayers of the castle to them.
This excited strong suspicion that what Phoebidas did was by
Agesilaus's order, which was corroborated by after occurrences. For
when the Thebans had expelled the garrison, and asserted their liberty,
he, accusing them of the murder of Archias and Leontidas, who indeed
were tyrants, though in name holding the office of Polemarchs, made war
upon them. He sent Cleombrotus on that errand, who was now his fellow
king, in the place of Agesipolis, who was dead, excusing himself by
reason of his age; for it was forty years since he had first borne
arms, and he was consequently exempt by the law; meanwhile the true
reason was, that he was ashamed, having so lately fought against
tyranny in behalf of the Phliasians, to fight now in defense of a
tyranny against the Thebans.
One Sphodrias, of Lacedaemon, of the contrary faction to Agesilaus, was
governor in Thespiae, a bold and enterprising man, though he had
perhaps more of confidence than wisdom. This action of Phoebidas fired
him, and incited his ambition to attempt some great enterprise, which
might render him as famous as he perceived the taking of the Cadmea had
made Phoebidas. He thought the sudden capture of the Piraeus, and the
cutting off thereby the Athenians from the sea, would be a matter of
far more glory. It is said, too, that Pelopidas and Melon, the chief
captains of Boeotia, put him upon it; that they privily sent men to
him, pretending to be of the Spartan faction, who, highly commending
Sphodrias, filled him with a great opinion of himself, protesting him
to be the only man in the world that was fit for so great an
enterprise. Being thus stimulated, he could hold no longer, but hurried
into an attempt as dishonorable and treacherous as that of the Cadmea,
but executed with less valor and less success; for the day broke whilst
he was yet in the Thriasian plain, whereas he designed the whole
exploit to have been done in the night. As soon as the soldiers
perceived the rays of light reflecting from the temples of Eleusis,
upon the first rising of the sun, it is said that their hearts failed
them; nay, he himself, when he saw that he could not have the benefit
of the night, had not courage enough to go on with his enterprise; but,
having pillaged the country, he returned with shame to Thespiae. An
embassy was upon this sent from Athens to Sparta, to complain of the
breach of peace; but the ambassadors found their journey needless,
Sphodrias being then under process by the magistrates of Sparta.
Sphodrias durst not stay to expect judgment, which he found would be
capital, the city being highly incensed against him, out of the shame
they felt at the business, and their desire to appear in the eyes of
the Athenians as fellow-sufferers; in the wrong, rather than
accomplices in its being done.
This Sphodrias had a son of great beauty named Cleonymus, to whom
Archidamus, the son of Agesilaus, was extremely attached. Archidamus,
as became him, was concerned for the danger of his friend's father, but
yet he durst not do anything openly for his assistance, he being one of
the professed enemies of Agesilaus. But Cleonymus having solicited him
with tears about it, as knowing Agesilaus to be of all his father's
enemies the most formidable, the young man for two or three days
followed after his father with such fear and confusion, that he durst
not speak to him. At last, the day of sentence being at hand, he
ventured to tell him, that Cleonymus had entreated him to intercede for
his father Agesilaus, though well aware of the love between the two
young men, yet did not prohibit it, because Cleonymus from his earliest
years had been looked upon as a youth of very great promise; yet he
gave not his son any kind or hopeful answer in the case, but coldly
told him, that he would consider what he could honestly and honorably
do in it, and so dismissed him. Archidamus, being ashamed of his want
of success, forbore the company of Cleonymus, whom he usually saw
several times every day. This made the friends of Sphodrias to think
his case desperate, till Etymocles, one of Agesilaus's friends,
discovered to them the king's mind, namely, that he abhorred the fact,
but yet he thought Sphodrias a gallant man, such as the commonwealth
much wanted at that time. For Agesilaus used to talk thus concerning
the cause, out of a desire to gratify his son. And now Cleonymus
quickly understood, that Archidamus had been true to him, in using all
his interest with his father; and Sphodrias's friends ventured to be
forward in his defense. The truth is, that Agesilaus was excessively
fond of his children; and it is to him the story belongs, that when
they were little ones, he used to make a horse of a stick, and ride
with them; and being caught at this sport by a friend, he desired him
not to mention it, till he himself were the father of children.
Meanwhile, Sphodrias being acquitted, the Athenians betook themselves
to arms, and Agesilaus fell into disgrace with the people; since to
gratify the whims of a boy, he had been willing to pervert justice, and
make the city accessory to the crimes of private men, whose most
unjustifiable actions had broken the peace of Greece. He also found his
colleague, Cleombrotus, little inclined to the Theban war; so that it
became necessary for him to waive the privilege of his age, which he
before had claimed, and to lead the army himself into Boeotia; which he
did with variety of success, sometimes conquering, and sometimes
conquered; insomuch that receiving a wound in a battle, he was
reproached by Antalcidas, that the Thebans had paid him well for the
lessons he had given them in fighting. And, indeed, they were now grown
far better soldiers than ever they had been, being so continually kept
in training, by the frequency of the Lacedaemonian expeditions against
them. Out of the foresight of which it was, that anciently Lycurgus, in
three several laws, forbade them to make many wars with the same
nation, as this would be to instruct their enemies in the art of it.
Meanwhile, the allies of Sparta were not a little discontented at
Agesilaus, because this war was commenced not upon any fair public
ground of quarrel, but merely out of his private hatred to the Thebans;
and they complained with indignation, that they, being the majority of
the army, should from year to year be thus exposed to danger and
hardship here and there, at the will of a few persons. It was at this
time, we are told, that Agesilaus, to obviate the objection, devised
this expedient, to show the allies were not the greater number. He gave
orders that all the allies, of whatever country, should sit down
promiscuously on one side, and all the Lacedaemonians on the other:
which being done, he commanded a herald to proclaim, that all the
potters of both divisions should stand out; then all the blacksmiths;
then all the masons; next the carpenters; and so he went through all
the handicrafts. By this time almost all the allies were risen, but of
the Lacedaemonians not a man, they being by law forbidden to learn any
mechanical business; and now Agesilaus laughed and said, "You see, my
friends, how many more soldiers we send out than you do."
When he brought back his army from Boeotia through Megara, as he was
going up to the magistrate's office in the Acropolis, he was suddenly
seized with pain and cramp in his sound leg, and great swelling and
inflammation ensued. He was treated by a Syracusan physician, who let
him blood below the ankle; this soon eased his pain, but then the blood
could not be stopped, till the loss of it brought on fainting and
swooning; at length, with much trouble, he stopped it. Agesilaus was
carried home to Sparta in a very weak condition, and did not recover
strength enough to appear in the field for a long time after.
Meanwhile, the Spartan fortune was but ill; they received many losses
both by sea and land; but the greatest was that at Tegyrae, when for
the first time they were beaten by the Thebans in a set battle.
All the Greeks were, accordingly, disposed to a general peace, and to
that end ambassadors came to Sparta. Among these was Epaminondas, the
Theban, famous at that time for his philosophy and learning, but he had
not yet given proof of his capacity as a general. He, seeing all the
others crouch to Agesilaus, and court favor with him, alone maintained
the dignity of an ambassador, and with that freedom that became his
character, made a speech in behalf not of Thebes only, from whence he
came, but of all Greece, remonstrating, that Sparta alone grew great by
war, to the distress and suffering of all her neighbors. He urged, that
a peace should be made upon just and equal terms, such as alone would
be a lasting one, which could not otherwise be done, than by reducing
all to equality. Agesilaus, perceiving all the other Greeks to give
much attention to this discourse, and to be pleased with it, presently
asked him, whether he thought it a part of this justice and equality
that the Boeotian towns should enjoy their independence. Epaminondas
instantly and without wavering asked him in return, whether he thought
it just and equal that the Laconian towns should enjoy theirs.
Agesilaus started from his seat and bade him once for all speak out and
say whether or not Boeotia should be independent. And when Epaminondas
replied once again with the same inquiry, whether Laconia should be so,
Agesilaus was so enraged that, availing himself of the pretext he
immediately struck the name of the Thebans out of the league, and
declared war against them. With the rest of the Greeks he made a peace,
and dismissed them with this saying, that what could be peaceably
adjusted, should; what was otherwise incurable, must be committed to
the success of war, it being a thing of too great difficulty to provide
for all things by treaty. The Ephors upon this dispatched their orders
to Cleombrotus, who was at that time in Phocis, to march directly into
Boeotia, and at the same time sent to their allies for aid. The
confederates were very tardy in the business, and unwilling to engage,
but as yet they feared the Spartans too much to dare to refuse. And
although many portents, and prodigies of ill presage, which I have
mentioned in the life of Epaminondas, had appeared; and though
Prothous, the Laconian, did all he could to hinder it, yet Agesilaus
would needs go forward, and prevailed so, that the war was decreed. He
thought the present juncture of affairs very advantageous for their
revenge, the rest of Greece being wholly free, and the Thebans excluded
from the peace. But that this war was undertaken more upon passion than
judgment, the event may prove; for the treaty was finished but the
fourteenth of Scirophorion, and the Lacedaemonians received their great
overthrow at Leuctra, on the fifth of Hecatombaeon, within twenty days.
There fell at that time a thousand, Spartans, and Cleombrotus their
king, and around him the bravest men of the nation; particularly, the
beautiful youth, Cleonymus the son of Sphodrias, who was thrice struck
down at the feet of the king, and as often rose, but was slain at the
last.
This unexpected blow, which fell so heavy upon the Lacedaemonians,
brought greater glory to Thebes than ever was acquired by any other of
the Grecian republics, in their civil wars against each other. The
behavior, notwithstanding, of the Spartans, though beaten, was as
great, and as highly to be admired, as that of the Thebans. And indeed,
if, as Xenophon says, in conversation good men even in their sports and
at their wine let fall many sayings that are worth the preserving; how
much more worthy to be recorded, is an exemplary constancy of mind, as
shown both in the words and in the acts of brave men, when they are
pressed by adverse fortune! It happened that the Spartans were
celebrating a solemn feast, at which many strangers were present from
other countries, and the town full of them, when this news of the
overthrow came. It was the gymnopaediae, and the boys were dancing in
the theater, when the messengers arrived from Leuctra. The Ephors,
though they were sufficiently aware that this blow had ruined the
Spartan power, and that their primacy over the rest of Greece was gone
for ever, yet gave orders that the dances should not break off, nor any
of the celebration of the festival abate; but privately sending the
names of the slain to each family, out of which they were lost, they
continued the public spectacles. The next morning, when they had full
intelligence concerning it, and everybody knew who were slain, and who
survived, the fathers, relatives, and friends of the slain came out
rejoicing in the market-place, saluting each other with a kind of
exultation; on the contrary, the fathers of the survivors hid
themselves at home among the women. If necessity drove any of them
abroad, they went very dejectedly, with downcast looks, and sorrowful
countenances. The women outdid the men in it; those whose sons were
slain, openly rejoicing, cheerfully making visits to one another, and
meeting triumphantly in the temples; they who expected their children
home, being very silent, and much troubled.
But the people in general, when their allies now began to desert them,
and Epaminondas, in all the confidence of victory, was expected with an
invading army in Peloponnesus, began to think again of Agesilaus's
lameness, and to entertain feelings of religious fear and despondency,
as if their having rejected the sound-footed, and having chosen the
halting king, which the oracle had specially warned them against, was
the occasion of all their distresses. Yet the regard they had to the
merit and reputation of Agesilaus, so far stilled this murmuring of the
people, that notwithstanding it, they entrusted themselves to him in
this distress, as the only man that was fit to heal the public malady,
the arbiter of all their difficulties, whether relating to the affairs
of war or peace. One great one was then before them, concerning the
runaways (as their name is for them) that had fled out of the battle,
who being many and powerful, it was feared that they might make some
commotion in the republic, to prevent the execution of the law upon
them for their cowardice. The law in that case was very severe; for
they were not only to be debarred from all honors, but also it was a
disgrace to intermarry with them; whoever met any of them in the
streets, might beat him if he chose, nor was it lawful for him to
resist; they in the meanwhile were obliged to go about unwashed and
meanly dressed, with their clothes patched with divers colors, and to
wear their beards half shaved half unshaven. To execute so rigid a law
as this, in a case where the offenders were so many, and many of them
of such distinction, and that in a time when the commonwealth wanted
soldiers so much as then it did, was of dangerous consequence.
Therefore they chose Agesilaus as a sort of new lawgiver for the
occasion. But he, without adding to or diminishing from or any way
changing the law, came out into the public assembly, and said, that the
law should sleep for today, but from this day forth be vigorously
executed. By this means he at once preserved the law from abrogation,
and the citizens from infamy; and that he might alleviate the
despondency and self-distrust of the young men, he made an inroad into
Arcadia, where carefully avoiding all fighting, he contented himself
with spoiling the territory, and taking a small town belonging to the
Mantineans, thus reviving the hearts of the people, letting them see
that they were not everywhere unsuccessful.
Epaminondas now invaded Laconia, with an army of forty thousand,
besides light-armed men and others that followed the camp only for
plunder, so that in all they were at least seventy thousand. It was now
six hundred years since the Dorians had possessed Laconia, and in all
that time the face of an enemy had not been seen within their
territories, no man daring to invade them; but now they made their
entrance, and burnt and plundered without resistance the hitherto
untouched and sacred territory, up to Eurotas, and the very suburbs of
Sparta; for Agesilaus would not permit them to encounter so impetuous a
torrent, as Theopompus calls it, of war. He contented himself with
fortifying the chief parts of the city, and with placing guards in
convenient places, enduring meanwhile the taunts of the Thebans, who
reproached him by name as the kindler of the war, and the author of all
that mischief to his country, bidding him defend himself if he could.
But this was not all; he was equally disturbed at home with the tumults
of the city, the outcries and running about of the old men, who were
enraged at their present condition, and the women, yet worse, out of
their senses with the clamors, and the fires of the enemy in the field.
He was also himself afflicted by the sense of his lost glory; who
having come to the throne of Sparta when it was in its most flourishing
and powerful condition, now lived to see it laid low in esteem, and all
its great vaunts cut down, even that which he himself had been
accustomed to use, that the women of Sparta had never seen the smoke of
the enemy's fire. As it is said, also, that when Antalcidas once being
in dispute with an Athenian about the valor of the two nations, the
Athenian boasted, that they had often driven the Spartans from the
river Cephisus, "Yes," said Antalcidas, "but we never had occasion to
drive you from Eurotas." And a common Spartan of less note, being in
company with an Argive, who was bragging how many Spartans lay buried
in the fields of Argos, replied, "None of you are buried in the country
of Laconia." Yet now the case was so altered, that Antalcidas, being
one of the Ephors, out of fear sent away his children privately to the
island of Cythera.
When the enemy essayed to get over the river, and thence to attack the
town, Agesilaus, abandoning the rest, betook himself to the high places
and strong-holds of it. But it happened, that Eurotas at that time was
swollen to a great height with the snow that had fallen, and made the
passage very difficult to the Thebans, not only by its depth, but much
more by its extreme coldness. Whilst this was doing, Epaminondas was
seen in the front of the phalanx, and was pointed out to Agesilaus, who
looked long at him, and said but these words, "O, bold man!" But when
he came to the city, and would have fain attempted something within the
limits of it that might raise him a trophy there, he could not tempt
Agesilaus out of his hold, but was forced to march off again, wasting
the country as he went.
Meanwhile, a body of long discontented and bad citizens, about two
hundred in number, having got into a strong part of the town called the
Issorion, where the temple of Diana stands, seized and garrisoned it.
The Spartans would have fallen upon them instantly; but Agesilaus, not
knowing how far the sedition might reach, bade them forbear, and going
himself in his ordinary dress, with but one servant, when he came near
the rebels, called out, and told them, that they mistook their orders;
this was not the right place; they were to go, one part of them
thither, showing them another place in the city, and part to another,
which he also showed. The conspirators gladly heard this, thinking
themselves unsuspected of treason, and readily went off to the places
which he showed them. Whereupon Agesilaus placed in their room a guard
of his own; and of the conspirators he apprehended fifteen, and put
them to death in the night. But after this, a much more dangerous
conspiracy was discovered of Spartan citizens, who had privately met in
each other's houses, plotting a revolution. These were men whom it was
equally dangerous to prosecute publicly according to law, and to
connive at. Agesilaus took counsel with the Ephors, and put these also
to death privately without process; a thing never before known in the
case of any born Spartan.
At this time, also, many of the Helots and country people, who were in
the army, ran away to the enemy, which was matter of great
consternation to the city. He therefore caused some officers of his,
every morning before day, to search the quarters of the soldiers, and
where any man was gone, to hide his arms, that so the greatness of the
number might not appear.
Historians differ about the cause of the Thebans' departure from
Sparta. Some say, the winter forced them; as also that the Arcadian
soldiers disbanding, made it necessary for the rest to retire. Others
say, that they stayed there three months, till they had laid the whole
country waste. Theopompus is the only author who says that when the
Boeotian generals had already resolved upon the retreat, Phrixus, the
Spartan, came to them, and offered them from Agesilaus ten talents to
be gone, so hiring them to do what they were already doing of their own
accord. How he alone should come to be aware of this, I know not; only
in this all authors agree, that the saving of Sparta from ruin was
wholly due to the wisdom of Agesilaus, who in this extremity of affairs
quitted all his ambition and his haughtiness, and resolved to play a
saving game. But all his wisdom and courage was not sufficient to
recover the glory of it, and to raise it to its ancient greatness. For
as we see in human bodies, long used to a very strict and too
exquisitely regular diet, any single great disorder is usually fatal;
so here one stroke overthrew the whole State's long prosperity. Nor can
we be surprised at this. Lycurgus had formed a polity admirably
designed for the peace, harmony, and virtuous life of the citizens; and
their fall came from their assuming foreign dominion and arbitrary
sway, things wholly undesirable, in the judgment of Lycurgus, for a
well-conducted and happy State.
Agesilaus being now in years, gave over all military employments; but
his son Archidamus, having received help from Dionysius of Sicily, gave
a great defeat to the Arcadians, in the fight known by the name of the
Tearless Battle, in which there was a great slaughter of the enemy,
without the loss of one Spartan. Yet this victory, more than anything
else, discovered the present weakness of Sparta; for heretofore victory
was esteemed so usual a thing with them, that for their greatest
successes, they merely sacrificed a cock to the gods. The soldiers
never vaunted, nor did the citizens display any great joy at the news;
even when the great victory, described by Thucydides, was obtained at
Mantinea, the messenger that brought the news had no other reward than
a piece of meat, sent by the magistrates from the common table. But at
the news of this Arcadian victory, they were not able to contain
themselves; Agesilaus went out in procession with tears of joy in his
eyes, to meet and embrace his son, and all the magistrates and public
officers attended him. The old men and the women marched out as far as
the river Eurotas, lifting up their hands, and thanking the gods, that
Sparta was now cleared again of the disgrace and indignity that had
befallen her, and once more saw the light of day. Since before, they
tell us, the Spartan men, out of shame at their disasters, did not dare
so much as to look their wives in the face.
When Epaminondas restored Messene, and recalled from all quarters the
ancient citizens to inhabit it, they were not able to obstruct the
design, being not in condition of appearing in the field against them.
But it went greatly against Agesilaus in the minds of his countrymen,
when they found so large a territory, equal to their own in compass,
and for fertility the richest of all Greece, which they had enjoyed so
long, taken from them in his reign. Therefore it was that the king
broke off treaty with the Thebans, when they offered him peace, rather
than set his hand to the passing away of that country, though it was
already taken from him. Which point of honor had like to have cost him
dear; for not long after he was overreached by a stratagem, which had
almost amounted to the loss of Sparta. For when the Mantineans again
revolted from Thebes to Sparta, and Epaminondas understood that
Agesilaus was come to their assistance with a powerful army, he
privately in the night quitted his quarters at Tegea, and unknown to
the Mantineans, passing by Agesilaus, marched towards Sparta, insomuch
that he failed very little of taking it empty and unarmed. Agesilaus
had intelligence sent him by Euthynus, the Thespian, as Callisthenes
says, but Xenophon says by a Cretan; and immediately dispatched a
horseman to Lacedaemon, to apprise them of it, and to let them know
that he was hastening to them. Shortly after his arrival the Thebans
crossed the Eurotas. They made an assault upon the town, and were
received by Agesilaus with great courage, and with exertions beyond
what was to be expected at his years. For he did not now fight with
that caution and cunning which he formerly made use of, but put all
upon a desperate push; which, though not his usual method, succeeded so
well, that he rescued the city out of the very hands of Epaminondas,
and forced him to retire, and, at the erection of a trophy, was able,
in the presence of their wives and children, to declare that the
Lacedaemonians had nobly paid their debt to their country, and
particularly his son Archidamus, who had that day made himself
illustrious, both by his courage and agility of body, rapidly passing
about by the short lanes to every endangered point, and everywhere
maintaining the town against the enemy with but few to help him.
Isadas, however, the son of Phoebidas, must have been, I think, the
admiration of the enemy as well as of his friends. He was a youth of
remarkable beauty and stature, in the very flower of the most
attractive time of life, when the boy is just rising into the man. He
had no arms upon him, and scarcely clothes; he had just anointed
himself at home, when upon the alarm, without further waiting, in that
undress, he snatched a spear in one hand, and a sword in the other, and
broke his way through the combatants to the enemies, striking at all he
met. He received no wound, whether it were that a special divine care
rewarded his valor with an extraordinary protection, or whether his
shape being so large and beautiful, and his dress so unusual, they
thought him more than a man. The Ephors gave him a garland; but as soon
as they had done so, they fined him a thousand drachmas, for going out
to battle unarmed.
A few days after this there was another battle fought near Mantinea, in
which Epaminondas, having routed the van of the Lacedaemonians, was
eager in the pursuit of them, when Anticrates, the Laconian, wounded
him with a spear, says Dioscorides; but the Spartans to this day call
the posterity of this Anticrates, swordsmen, because he wounded
Epaminondas with a sword. They so dreaded Epaminondas when living, that
the slayer of him was embraced and admired by all; they decreed honors
and gifts to him, and an exemption from taxes to his posterity, a
privilege enjoyed at this day by Callicrates, one of his descendants.
Epaminondas being slain, there was a general peace again concluded,
from which Agesilaus's party excluded the Messenians, as men that had
no city, and therefore would not let them swear to the league; to which
when the rest of the Greeks admitted them, the Lacedaemonians broke
off, and continued the war alone, in hopes of subduing the Messenians.
In this Agesilaus was esteemed a stubborn and headstrong man, and
insatiable of war, who took such pains to undermine the general peace,
and to protract the war at a time when he had not money to carry it on
with, but was forced to borrow of his friends and raise subscriptions,
with much difficulty, while the city, above all things, needed repose.
And all this to recover the one poor town of Messene, after he had lost
so great an empire both by sea and land, as the Spartans were possessed
of, when he began to reign.
But it added still more to his ill-repute when he put himself into the
service of Tachos, the Egyptian. They thought it too unworthy of a man
of his high station, who was then looked upon as the first commander in
all Greece, who had filled all countries with his renown, to let
himself out to hire to a barbarian, an Egyptian rebel, (for Tachos was
no better) and to fight for pay, as captain only of a band of
mercenaries. If, they said, at those years of eighty and odd, after his
body had been worn out with age, and enfeebled with wounds, he had
resumed that noble undertaking, the liberation of the Greeks from
Persia, it had been worthy of some reproof. To make an action
honorable, it ought to be agreeable to the age, and other circumstances
of the person; since it is circumstance and proper measure that give an
action its character, and make it either good or bad. But Agesilaus
valued not other men's discourses; he thought no public employment
dishonorable; the ignoblest thing in his esteem, was for a man to sit
idle and useless at home, waiting for his death to come and take him.
The money, therefore, that he received from Tachos, he laid out in
raising men, with whom having filled his ships, he took also thirty
Spartan counselors with him, as formerly he had done in his Asiatic
expedition, and set sail for Egypt.
As soon as he arrived in Egypt, all the great officers of the kingdom
came to pay their compliments to him at his landing. His reputation
being so great had raised the expectation of the whole country, and
crowds flocked in to see him; but when they found, instead of the
splendid prince whom they looked for, a little old man of contemptible
appearance, without all ceremony lying down upon the grass, in coarse
and threadbare clothes, they fell into laughter and scorn of him,
crying out, that the old proverb was; now made good, "The mountain had
brought forth a mouse." They were yet more astonished at his stupidity,
as they thought it, who, when presents were made him of all sorts of
provisions, took only the meal, the calves, and the geese, but rejected
the sweetmeats, the confections and perfumes; and when they urged him
to the acceptance of them, took them and gave them to the helots in his
army. Yet he was taken, Theophrastus tells us, with the garlands they
made of the papyrus, because of their simplicity, and when he returned
home, he demanded one of the king, which he carried with him.
When he joined with Tachos, he found his expectation of being
general-in-chief disappointed. Tachos reserved that place for himself,
making Agesilaus only captain of the mercenaries, and Chabrias, the
Athenian, commander of the fleet. This was the first occasion of his
discontent, but there followed others; he was compelled daily to submit
to the insolence and vanity of this Egyptian, and was at length forced
to attend him into Phoenicia, in a condition much below his character
and dignity, which he bore and put up with for a time, till he had
opportunity of showing his feelings. It was afforded him by Nectanabis,
the cousin of Tachos, who commanded a large force under him, and
shortly after deserted him, and was proclaimed king by the Egyptians.
This man invited Agesilaus to join his party, and the like he did to
Chabrias, offering great rewards to both. Tachos, suspecting it,
immediately applied himself both to Agesilaus and Chabrias, with great
humility beseeching their continuance in his friendship. Chabrias
consented to it, and did what he could by persuasion and good words to
keep Agesilaus with them. But he gave this short reply, "You, O
Chabrias, came hither a volunteer, and may go and stay as you see
cause; but I am the servant of Sparta, appointed to head the Egyptians,
and therefore I cannot fight against those to whom I was sent as a
friend, unless I am commanded to do so by my country." This being said,
he dispatched messengers to Sparta, who were sufficiently supplied with
matter both for dispraise of Tachos, and commendation of Nectanabis.
The two Egyptians also sent their ambassadors to Lacedaemon, the one to
claim continuance of the league already made, the other to make great
offers for the breaking of it, and making a new one. The Spartans
having heard both sides, gave in their public answer, that they
referred the whole matter to Agesilaus; but privately wrote to him, to
act as he should find it best for the profit of the commonwealth. Upon
receipt of his orders, he at once changed sides, carrying all the
mercenaries with him to Nectanabis, covering with the plausible
presence of acting for the benefit of his country, a most questionable
piece of conduct, which, stripped of that disguise, in real truth was
no better than downright treachery. But the Lacedaemonians, who make it
their first principle of action to serve their country's interest, know
not anything to be just or unjust by any measure but that.
Tachos, being thus deserted by the mercenaries, fled for it; upon which
a new king of the Mendesian province was proclaimed his successor, and
came against Nectanabis with an army of one hundred thousand men.
Nectanabis, in his talk with Agesilaus, professed to despise them as
newly raised men, who, though many in number, were of no skill in war,
being most of them mechanics and tradesmen, never bred to war. To whom
Agesilaus answered, that he did not fear their numbers, but did fear
their ignorance, which gave no room for employing stratagem against
them. Stratagem only avails with men who are alive to suspicion, and
expecting to be assailed, expose themselves by their attempts at
defense; but one who has no thought or expectation of anything, gives
as little opportunity to the enemy, as he who stands stock-still does
to a wrestler. The Mendesian was not wanting in solicitations of
Agesilaus, insomuch that Nectanabis grew jealous. But when Agesilaus
advised to fight the enemy at once, saying, it was folly to protract
the war and rely on time, in a contest with men who had no experience
in fighting battles, but with their great numbers might be able to
surround them, and cut off their communications by entrenchments, and
anticipate them in many matters of advantage, this altogether confirmed
him in his fears and suspicions. He took quite the contrary course, and
retreated into a large and strongly fortified town. Agesilaus, finding
himself mistrusted, took it very ill, and was full of indignation, yet
was ashamed to change sides back again, or to go away without effecting
anything, so that he was forced to follow Nectanabis into the town.
When the enemy came up, and began to draw lines about the town, and to
entrench, the Egyptian now resolved upon a battle, out of fear of a
siege. And the Greeks were eager for it, provisions growing already
scarce in the town. When Agesilaus opposed it, the Egyptians then
suspected him much more, publicly calling him the betrayer of the king.
But Agesilaus, being now satisfied within himself, bore these
reproaches patiently, and followed the design which he had laid, of
overreaching the enemy, which was this.
The enemy were forming a deep ditch and high wall, resolving to shut up
the garrison and starve it. When the ditch was brought almost quite
round, and the two ends had all but met, he took the advantage of the
night, and armed all his Greeks. Then going to the Egyptian, "This,
young man, is your opportunity," said he, "of saving yourself, which I
all this while durst not announce, lest discovery should prevent it;
but now the enemy has, at his own cost, and the pains and labor of his
own men, provided for our security. As much of this wall as is built
will prevent them from surrounding us with their multitude, the gap yet
left will be sufficient for us to sally out by; now play the man, and
follow the example the Greeks will give you, and by fighting valiantly,
save yourself and your army; their front will not be able to stand
against us, and their rear we are sufficiently secured from, by a wall
of their own making." Nectanabis, admiring the sagacity of Agesilaus,
immediately placed himself in the middle of the Greek troops, and
fought with them; and upon the first charge soon routed the enemy.
Agesilaus having now gained credit with the king, proceeded to use,
like a trick in wrestling, the same stratagem over again. He sometimes
pretended a retreat, at other times advanced to attack their flanks,
and by this means at last drew them into a place enclosed between two
ditches that were very deep, and full of water. When he had them at
this advantage, he soon charged them, drawing up the front of his
battle equal to the space between the two ditches, so that they had no
way of surrounding him, being enclosed themselves on both sides. They
made but little resistance; many fell, others fled and were dispersed.
Nectanabis, being thus settled and fixed in his kingdom, with much
kindness and affection invited Agesilaus to spend his winter in Egypt,
but he made haste home to assist in the wars of his own country, which
was he knew in want of money, and forced to hire mercenaries, whilst
their own men were fighting abroad. The king, therefore, dismissed him
very honorably, and among other gifts presented him with two hundred
and thirty talents of silver toward the charge of the war. But the
weather being tempestuous, his ships kept in shore, and passing along
the coast of Africa he reached an uninhabited spot called the Port of
Menelaus, and here, when his ships were just upon landing, he expired,
being eighty-four years old, and having reigned in Lacedaemon
forty-one. Thirty of which years he passed with the reputation of being
the greatest and most powerful man of all Greece, and was looked upon
as, in a manner, general and king of it, until the battle of Leuctra.
It was the custom of the Spartans to bury their common dead in the
place where they died, whatsoever country it was, but their kings they
carried home. The followers of Agesilaus, for want of honey, enclosed
his body in wax, and so conveyed him to Lacedaemon.
His son Archidamus succeeded him on his throne; so did his posterity
successively to Agis, the fifth from Agesilaus; who was slain by
Leonidas, while attempting to restore the ancient discipline of Sparta.
POMPEY
The people of Rome seem to have entertained for Pompey from his
childhood, the same affection that Prometheus in the tragedy of
Aeschylus expresses for Hercules, speaking of him as the author of his
deliverance, in these words,
Ah cruel Sire! how dear thy son to me!
The generous offspring of my enemy!
For on the one hand, never did the Romans give such demonstrations of a
vehement and fierce hatred against any of their generals, as they did
against Strabo, the father of Pompey; during whose lifetime, it is
true, they stood in awe of his military power, as indeed he was a
formidable warrior, but immediately upon his death, which happened by a
stroke of thunder, they treated him with the utmost contumely, dragging
his corpse from the bier, as it was carried to his funeral. On the
other side, never had any Roman the people's good-will and devotion
more zealous throughout all the changes of fortune, more early in its
first springing up, or more steadily rising with his prosperity, or
more constant in his adversity, than Pompey had. In Strabo, there was
one great cause of their hatred, his insatiable covetousness; in
Pompey, there were many that helped to make him the object of their
love; his temperance, his skill, and exercise in war, his eloquence of
speech, integrity of mind and affability in conversation and address;
insomuch that no man ever asked a favor with less offense, or conferred
one with a better grace. When he gave, it was without assumption, when
he received, it was with dignity and honor.
In his youth, his countenance pleaded for him, seeming to anticipate
his eloquence, and win upon the affections of the people before he
spoke. His beauty even in his bloom of youth had something in it at
once of gentleness and dignity; and when his prime of manhood came, the
majesty kingliness of his character at once became visible in it. His
hair sat somewhat hollow or rising a little; and this, with the
languishing motion of his eyes, seemed to form a resemblance in his
face, though perhaps more talked of than really apparent, to the
statues of king Alexander. And because many applied that name to him in
his youth, Pompey himself did not decline it, insomuch that some called
him so in derision. And Lucius Philippus, a man of consular dignity,
when he was pleading in favor of him, thought it not unfit to say, that
people could not be surprised if Philip was a lover of Alexander.
It is related of Flora, the courtesan, that when she was now pretty
old; she took great delight in speaking of her early familiarity with
Pompey, and was wont to say, that she could never part after being with
him without a bite. She would further tell, that Geminius, a companion
of Pompey's, fell in love with her, and made his court with great
importunity; and on her refusing, and telling him, however her
inclinations were, yet she could not gratify his desires for Pompey's
sake, he therefore made his request to Pompey, and Pompey frankly gave
his consent, but never afterwards would have any converse with her,
notwithstanding, that he seemed to have a great passion for her; and
Flora, on this occasion, showed none of the levity that might have been
expected of her, but languished for some time after under a sickness
brought on by grief and desire. This Flora, we are told, was such a
celebrated beauty, that Caecilius Metellus, when he adorned the temple
of Castor and Pollux with paintings and statues, among the rest
dedicated hers for her singular beauty. In his conduct also to the wife
of Demetrius, his freed servant, (who had great influence with him in
his lifetime, and left an estate of four thousand talents,) Pompey
acted contrary to his usual habits, not quite fairly or generously,
fearing lest he should fall under the common censure of being enamored
and charmed with her beauty, which was irresistible, and became famous
everywhere. Nevertheless, though he seemed to be so extremely
circumspect and cautious, yet even in matters of this nature, he could
not avoid the calumnies of his enemies, but upon the score of married
women, they accused him, as if he had connived at many things, and
embezzled the public revenue to gratify their luxury.
Of his easiness of temper and plainness, in what related to eating and
drinking, the story is told, that once in a sickness, when his stomach
nauseated common meats, his physician prescribed him a thrush to eat;
but upon search, there was none to be bought, for they were not then in
season, and one telling him they were to be had at Lucullus's, who kept
them all the year round, "So then," said he, "if it were not for
Lucullus's luxury, Pompey should not live;" and thereupon not minding
the prescription of the physician, he contented himself with such meat
as could easily be procured. But this was at a later time.
Being as yet a very young man, and upon an expedition in which his
father was commanding against Cinna, he had in his tent with him one
Lucius Terentius, as his companion and comrade, who, being corrupted by
Cinna, entered into an engagement to kill Pompey, as others had done,
to set the general's tent on fire. This conspiracy being discovered to
Pompey at supper, he showed no discomposure at it, but on the contrary
drank more liberally than usual, and expressed great kindness to
Terentius; but about bedtime, pretending to go to his repose, he stole
away secretly out of the tent, and setting a guard about his father,
quietly expected the event. Terentius, when he thought the proper time
come, rose with his naked sword, and coming to Pompey's bedside,
stabbed several strokes through the bedclothes, as if he were lying
there. Immediately after this there was a great uproar throughout all
the camp, arising from the hatred they bore to the general, and a
universal movement of the soldiers to revolt, all tearing down their
tents, and betaking themselves to their arms. The general himself all
this while durst not venture out because of the tumult; but Pompey,
going about in the midst of them, besought them with tears; and at last
threw himself prostrate upon his face before the gate of the camp, and
lay there in the passage at their feet, shedding tears, and bidding
those that were marching off, if they would go, trample upon him. Upon
which, none could help going back again, and all, except eight hundred,
either through shame or compassion, repented, and were reconciled to
the general.
Immediately upon the death of Strabo, there was an action commenced
against Pompey, as his heir, for that his father had embezzled the
public treasure. But Pompey, having traced the principal thefts,
charged them upon one Alexander, a freed slave of his father's, and
proved before the judges that he had been the appropriator. But he
himself was accused of having in his possession some hunting tackle,
and books, that were taken at Asculum. To this he confessed thus far,
that he received them from his father when he took Asculum, but pleaded
further, that he had lost them since, upon Cinna's return to Rome when
his home was broken open and plundered by Cinna's guards. In this cause
he had a great many preparatory pleadings against his accuser, in which
he showed an activity and steadfastness beyond his years, and gained
great reputation and favor; insomuch that Antistius, the praetor and
judge of the cause, took a great liking to him, and offered him his
daughter in marriage, having had some communications with his friends
about it. Pompey accepted the proposal, and they were privately
contracted; however, the secret was not so closely kept as to escape
the multitude, but it was discernible enough from the favor shown him
by Antistius in his cause. And at last, when Antistius pronounced the
absolutory sentence of the judges, the people, as if it had been upon a
signal given, made the acclamation used according to ancient custom, at
marriages, Talasio. The origin of which custom is related to be this.
At the time when the daughters of the Sabines came to Rome, to see the
shows and sports there, and were violently seized upon by the most
distinguished and bravest of the Romans for wives, it happened that
some goatswains and herdsmen of the meaner rank were carrying off a
beautiful and tall maiden; and lest any of their betters should meet
them, and take her away, as they ran, they cried out with one voice,
Talasio, Talasius being a well-known and popular person among them,
insomuch that all that heard the name, clapped their hands for joy, and
joined with them in the shout, as applauding and congratulating the
chance. Now, say they, because this proved a fortunate match to
Talasius, hence it is that this acclamation is sportively used as a
nuptial cry at all weddings. This is the most credible of the accounts
that are given of the Talasio. And some few days after this judgment,
Pompey married Antistia.
After this he went to Cinna's camp, where finding some false
suggestions and calumnies prevailing against him, he began to be afraid
and presently withdrew himself secretly; which sudden disappearance
occasioned great suspicion. And there went a rumor and speech through
all the camp, that Cinna had murdered the young man; upon which all
that had been anyways disobliged, and bore any malice to him, resolved
to make an assault upon him. He, endeavoring to make his escape, was
seized by a centurion, who pursued him with his naked sword. Cinna, in
this distress, fell upon his knees, and offered him his seal-ring, of
great value, for his ransom; but the centurion repulsed him insolently,
saying, "I did not come to seal a covenant, but to be revenged upon a
lawless and wicked tyrant;" and so dispatched him immediately.
Thus Cinna being slain, Carbo, a tyrant yet more senseless than he,
took the command and exercised it, while Sylla meantime was
approaching, much to the joy and satisfaction of most people, who in
their present evils were ready to find some comfort if it were but in
the exchange of a master. For the city was brought to that pass by
oppression and calamities, that being utterly in despair of liberty,
men were only anxious for the mildest and most tolerable bondage. At
that time Pompey was in Picenum in Italy, where he spent some time
amusing himself, as he had estates in the country there, though the
chief motive of his stay was the liking he felt for the towns of that
district, which all regarded him with hereditary feelings of kindness
and attachment. But when he now saw that the noblest and best of the
city began to forsake their homes and property, and fly from all
quarters to Sylla's camp, as to their haven, he likewise was desirous
to go; not, however, as a fugitive, alone and with nothing to offer,
but as a friend rather than a suppliant, in a way that would gain him
honor, bringing help along with him, and at the head of a body of
troops. Accordingly he solicited the Picentines for their assistance,
who as cordially embraced his motion, and rejected the messengers sent
from Carbo; insomuch that a certain Vindius taking upon him to say,
that Pompey was come from the school-room to put himself at the head of
the people, they were so incensed that they fell forthwith upon this
Vindius and killed him. From henceforward Pompey, finding a spirit of
government upon him, though not above twenty-three years of age, nor
deriving, an authority by commission from any man, took the privilege
to grant himself full power, and causing a tribunal to be erected in
the market-place of Auximum, a populous city, expelled two of their
principal men, brothers, of the name of Ventidius, who were acting
against him in Carbo's interest, commanding them by a public edict to
depart the city; and then proceeded to levy soldiers, issuing out
commissions to centurions, and other officers, according to the form of
military discipline. And in this manner he went round all the rest of
the cities in the district. So that those of Carbo's faction flying,
and all others cheerfully submitting to his command, in a little time
he mustered three entire legions, having supplied himself beside with
all manner of provisions, beasts of burden, carriages, and other
necessaries of war. And with this equipage he set forward on his march
towards Sylla, not as if he were in haste, or desirous of escaping
observation, but by small journeys, making several halts upon the road,
to distress and annoy the enemy, and exerting himself to detach from
Carbo's interest every part of Italy that he passed through.
Three commanders of the enemy encountered him at once, Carinna,
Cloelius, and Brutus, and drew up their forces, not all in the front,
nor yet together on any one part, but encamping three several armies in
a circle about him, they resolved to encompass and overpower him.
Pompey was no way alarmed at this, but collecting all his troops into
one body, and placing his horse in the front of the battle, where he
himself was in person, he singled out and bent all his forces against
Brutus, and when the Celtic horsemen from the enemy's side rode out to
meet him, Pompey himself encountering hand to hand with the foremost
and stoutest among them, killed him with his spear. The rest seeing
this turned their backs, and fled, and breaking the ranks of their own
foot, presently caused a general rout; whereupon the commanders fell
out among themselves, and marched off, some one way, some another, as
their fortunes led them, and the towns round about came in and
surrendered themselves to Pompey, concluding that the enemy was
dispersed for fear. Next after these, Scipio, the consul, came to
attack him, and with as little success; for before the armies could
join, or be within the throw of their javelins, Scipio's soldiers
saluted Pompey's, and came over to them, while Scipio made his escape
by flight. Last of all, Carbo himself sent down several troops of horse
against him by the river Arsis, which Pompey assailed with the same
courage and success as before; and having routed and put them to
flight, he forced them in the pursuit into difficult ground, unpassable
for horse, where seeing no hopes of escape, they yielded themselves
with their horses and armor, all to his mercy.
Sylla was hitherto unacquainted with all these actions; and on the
first intelligence he received of his movements was in great anxiety
about him, fearing lest he should be cut off among so many and such
experienced commanders of the enemy, and marched therefore with all
speed to his aid. Now Pompey, having advice of his approach, sent out
orders to his officers, to marshal and draw up all his forces in full
array, that they might make the finest and noblest appearance before
the commander-in-chief; for he expected indeed great honors from him,
but met with even greater. For as soon as Sylla saw him thus advancing,
his army so well appointed, his men so young and strong, and their
spirits so high and hopeful with their successes, he alighted from his
horse, and being first, as was his due, saluted by them with the title
of Imperator, he returned the salutation upon Pompey, in the same term
and style of Imperator, which might well cause surprise, as none could
have ever anticipated that he would have imparted, to one so young in
years and not yet a senator, a title which was the object of contention
between him and the Scipios and Marii. And indeed all the rest of his
deportment was agreeable to this first compliment; whenever Pompey came
into his presence, he paid some sort of respect to him, either in
rising and being uncovered, or the like, which he was rarely seen to do
to anyone else, notwithstanding that there were many about him of great
rank and honor. Yet Pompey was not puffed up at all, or exalted with
these favors. And when Sylla would have sent him with all expedition
into Gaul, a province in which it was thought Metellus who commanded in
it had done nothing worthy of the large forces at his disposal, Pompey
urged, that it could not be fair or honorable for him, to take a
province out of the hands of his senior in command and superior in
reputation; however, if Metellus were willing, and should request his
service, he should be very ready to accompany and assist him in the
war. Which when Metellus came to understand, he approved of the
proposal, and invited him over by letter. And on this Pompey fell
immediately into Gaul, where he not only achieved wonderful exploits of
himself, but also fired up and kindled again that bold and warlike
spirit, which old age had in a manner extinguished in Metellus, into a
new heat; just as molten copper, they say, when poured upon that which
is cold and solid, will dissolve and melt it faster than fire itself.
But as when a famous wrestler has gained the first place among men, and
borne away the prizes at all the games, it is not usual to take account
of his victories as a boy, or to enter them upon record among the rest;
so with the exploits of Pompey in his youth, though they were
extraordinary in themselves, yet because they were obscured and buried
in the multitude and greatness of his later wars and conquests, I dare
not be particular in them, lest, by trifling away time in the lesser
moments of his youth, we should be driven to omit those greater actions
and fortunes which best illustrate his character.
Now, when Sylla had brought all Italy under his dominion, and was
proclaimed dictator, he began to reward the rest of his followers, by
giving them wealth, appointing them to offices in the State, and
granting them freely and without restriction any favors they asked for.
But as for Pompey, admiring his valor and conduct, and thinking that he
might prove a great stay and support to him hereafter in his affairs,
he sought means to attach him to himself by some personal alliance, and
his wife Metella joining in his wishes, they two persuaded Pompey to
put away Antistia, and marry Aemilia, the step-daughter of Sylla, borne
by Metella to Scaurus her former husband, she being at that very time
the wife of another man, living with him, and with child by him. These
were the very tyrannies of marriage, and much more agreeable to the
times under Sylla, than to the nature and habits of Pompey; that
Aemilia great with child should be, as it were, ravished from the
embraces of another for him, and that Antistia should be divorced with
dishonor and misery by him, for whose sake she had been but just before
bereft of her father. For Antistius was murdered in the senate, because
he was suspected to be a favorer of Sylla for Pompey's sake; and her
mother, likewise, after she had seen all these indignities, made away
with herself; a new calamity to be added to the tragic accompaniments
of this marriage, and that there might be nothing wanting to complete
them, Aemilia herself died, almost immediately after entering Pompey's
house, in childbed.
About this time news came to Sylla, that Perpenna was fortifying
himself in Sicily, that the island was now become a refuge and
receptacle for the relics of the adverse party; that Carbo was hovering
about those seas with a navy, that Domitius had fallen in upon Africa
and that many of the exiled men of note who had escaped from the
proscriptions were daily flocking into those parts. Against these,
therefore, Pompey was sent with a large force; and no sooner was he
arrived in Sicily but Perpenna immediately departed, leaving the whole
island to him. Pompey received the distressed cities into favor, and
treated all with great humanity, except the Mamertines in Messena; for
when they protested against his court and jurisdiction, alleging their
privilege and exemption founded upon an ancient charter or grant of the
Romans, he replied sharply, "What! will you never cease prating of laws
to us that have swords by our sides?" It was thought, likewise, that he
showed some inhumanity to Carbo, seeming rather to insult over his
misfortunes, than to chastise his crimes. For if there had been a
necessity, as perhaps there was, that he should be taken off, that
might have been done at first, as soon as he was taken prisoner, for
then it would have been the act of him that commanded it. But here
Pompey commended a man that had been thrice consul of Rome, to be
brought in fetters to stand at the bar, he himself sitting upon the
bench in judgment, examining the cause with the formalities of law, to
the offense and indignation of all that were present, and afterwards
ordered him to be taken away and put to death. It is related, by the
way, of Carbo, that as soon as he was brought to the place, and saw the
sword drawn for execution, he was suddenly seized with a looseness or
pain in his bowels, and desired a little respite of the executioner,
and a convenient place to relieve himself. And yet further, Caius
Oppius, the friend of Caesar, tells us, that Pompey dealt cruelly with
Quintus Valerius, a man of singular learning and science. For when he
was brought to him, he walked aside, and drew him into conversation,
and after putting a variety of questions to him, and receiving answers
from him, he ordered his officers to take him away, and put him to
death. But we must not be too credulous in the case of narratives told
by Oppius, especially when he undertakes to relate anything touching
the friends or foes of Caesar. This is certain, that there lay a
necessity upon Pompey to be severe upon many of Sylla's enemies, those
at least that were eminent persons in themselves, and notoriously known
to be taken; but for the rest, he acted with all the clemency possible
for him, conniving at the concealment of some, and himself being the
instrument in the escape of others. So in the case of the Himeraeans;
for when Pompey had determined on severely punishing their city, as
they had been abettors of the enemy, Sthenis, the leader of the people
there, craving liberty of speech, told him, that what he was about to
do was not at all consistent with justice, for that he would pass by
the guilty, and destroy the innocent; and on Pompey demanding, who that
guilty person was that would assume the offenses of them all, Sthenis
replied, it was himself, who had engaged his friends by persuasion to
what they had done, and his enemies by force; whereupon Pompey being
much taken with the frank speech and noble spirit of the man, first
forgave his crime, and then pardoned all the rest of the Himeraeans.
Hearing, likewise, that his soldiers were very disorderly their march,
doing violence upon the roads, he ordered their swords to be sealed up
in their scabbards, and whosoever kept them not so, were severely
punished.
Whilst Pompey was thus busy in the affairs and government of Sicily, he
received a decree of the senate, and a commission from Sylla,
commanding him forthwith to sail into Africa, and make war upon
Domitius with all his forces: for Domitius had rallied up a far greater
army than Marius had had not long since, when he sailed out of Africa
into Italy, and caused a revolution in Rome, and himself, of a fugitive
outlaw, became a tyrant. Pompey, therefore, having prepared everything
with the utmost speed, left Memmius, his sister's husband, governor of
Sicily, and set sail with one hundred and twenty galleys, and eight
hundred other vessels laden with provisions, money, ammunition, and
engines of battery. He arrived with his fleet, part at the port of
Utica, part at Carthage; and no sooner was he landed, but seven
thousand of the enemy revolted and came over to him, while his own
forces that he brought with him consisted of six entire legions. Here
they tell us of a pleasant incident that happened to him at his first
arrival. For some of his soldiers having by accident stumbled upon a
treasure, by which they got a good sum of money, the rest of the army
hearing this, began to fancy that the field was full of gold and
silver, which had been hid there of old by the Carthaginians in the
time of their calamities, and thereupon fell to work, so that the army
was useless to Pompey for many days, being totally engaged in digging
for the fancied treasure, he himself all the while walking up and down
only, and laughing to see so many thousands together, digging and
turning up the earth. Until at last, growing weary and hopeless, they
came to themselves, and returned to their general, begging him to lead
them where he pleased, for that they had already received the
punishment of their folly. By this time Domitius had prepared himself;
and drawn out his army in array against Pompey; but there was a
watercourse betwixt them, craggy, and difficult to pass over; and this,
together with a great storm of wind and rain pouring down even from
break of day, seemed to leave but little possibility of their coming
together, so that Domitius, not expecting any engagement that day,
commanded his forces to draw off and retire to the camp. Now Pompey,
who was watchful upon every occasion, making use of the opportunity,
ordered a march forthwith, and having passed over the torrent, fell in
immediately upon their quarters. The enemy was in a great disorder and
tumult, and in that confusion attempted a resistance; but they neither
were all there, nor supported one another; besides, the wind having
veered about, beat the rain full in their faces. Neither indeed was the
storm less troublesome to the Romans, for that they could not clearly
discern one another, insomuch that even Pompey himself, being unknown,
escaped narrowly; for when one of his soldiers demanded of him the word
of battle, it happened that he was somewhat slow in his answer, which
might have cost him his life.
The enemy being routed with a great slaughter, (for it is said, that of
twenty thousand there escaped but three thousand,) the army saluted
Pompey by the name of Imperator; but he declined it, telling them, that
he could not by any means accept of that title, as long as he saw the
camp of the enemy standing; but if they designed to make him worthy of
the honor, they must first demolish that. The soldiers on hearing this,
went at once and made an assault upon the works and trenches, and there
Pompey fought without his helmet, in memory of his former danger, and
to avoid the like. The camp was thus taken by storm, and among the
rest, Domitius was slain. After that overthrow, the cities of the
country thereabouts were all either secured by surrender, or taken by
storm. King Iarbas, likewise, a confederate and auxiliary of Domitius,
was taken prisoner, and his kingdom was given to Hiempsal.
Pompey could not rest here, but being ambitious to follow the good
fortune and use the valor of his army, entered Numidia; and marching
forward many days' journey up into the country, he conquered all
wherever he came. And having revived the terror of the Roman power,
which was now almost obliterated among the barbarous nations, he said
likewise, that the wild beasts of Africa ought not to be left without
some experience of the courage and success of the Romans; and therefore
he bestowed some few days in hunting lions and elephants. And it is
said, that it was not above the space of forty days at the utmost, in
which he gave a total overthrow to the enemy, reduced Africa, and
established the affairs of the kings and kingdoms of all that country,
being then in the twenty-fourth year of his age.
When Pompey returned back to the city of Utica, there were presented to
him letters and orders from Sylla, commanding him to disband the rest
of his army, and himself with one legion only to wait there the coming
of another general, to succeed him in the government. This, inwardly,
was extremely grievous to Pompey, though he made no show of it. But the
army resented it openly, and when Pompey besought them to depart and go
home before him, they began to revile Sylla, and declared broadly, that
they were resolved not to forsake him, neither did they think it safe
for him to trust the tyrant. Pompey at first endeavored to appease and
pacify them by fair speeches; but when he saw that his persuasions were
vain, he left the bench, and retired to his tent with tears in his
eyes. But the soldiers followed him, and seizing upon him, by force
brought him again, and placed him in his tribunal; where great part of
that day was spent in dispute, they on their part persuading him to
stay and command them, he, on the other side, pressing upon them
obedience, and the danger of mutiny. At last, when they grew yet more
importunate and clamorous, he swore that he would kill himself if they
attempted to force him; and scarcely even thus appeased them.
Nevertheless, the first tidings brought to Sylla were, that Pompey was
up in rebellion; on which he remarked to some of his friends, "I see,
then, it is my destiny to contend with children in my old age;"
alluding at the same time to Marius, who, being but a mere youth, had
given him great trouble, and brought him into extreme danger. But being
undeceived afterwards by better intelligence, and finding the whole
city prepared to meet Pompey, and receive him with every display of
kindness and honor, he resolved to exceed them all. And, therefore,
going out foremost to meet him, and embracing him with great
cordiality, he gave him his welcome aloud in the title of Magnus, or
the Great, and bade all that were present call him by that name. Others
say that he had this title first given him by a general acclamation of
all the army in Africa, but that it was fixed upon him by this
ratification of Sylla. It is certain that he himself was the last that
owned the title; for it was a long time after, when he was sent
proconsul into Spain against Sertorius, that he began to write himself
in his letters and commissions by the name of Pompeius Magnus; common
and familiar use having then worn off the invidiousness of the title.
And one cannot but accord respect and admiration to the ancient Romans,
who did not reward the successes of action and conduct in war alone
with such honorable titles, but adorned likewise the virtues and
services of eminent men in civil government with the same distinctions
and marks of honor. Two persons received from the people the name of
Maximus, or the Greatest, Valerius, for reconciling the senate and
people, and Fabius Rullus, because he put out of the senate certain
sons of freed slaves who had been admitted into it because of their
wealth.
Pompey now desired the honor of a triumph, which Sylla opposed,
alleging that the law allowed that honor to none but consuls and
praetors, and therefore Scipio the elder, who subdued the Carthaginians
in Spain in far greater and nobler conflicts, never petitioned for a
triumph, because he had never been consul or praetor; and if Pompey,
who had scarcely yet fully grown a beard, and was not of age to be a
senator, should enter the city in triumph, what a weight of envy would
it bring, he said, at once upon his government and Pompey's honor. This
was his language to Pompey, intimating that he could not by any means
yield to his request, but if he would persist in his ambition, that he
was resolved to interpose his power to humble him. Pompey, however, was
not daunted; but bade Sylla recollect, that more worshiped the rising
than the setting sun; as if to tell him that his power was increasing,
and Sylla's in the wane. Sylla did not perfectly hear the words, but
observing a sort of amazement and wonder in the looks and gestures of
those that did hear them, he asked what it was that he said. When it
was told him, he seemed astounded at Pompey's boldness, and cried out
twice together, "Let him triumph," and when others began to show their
disapprobation and offense at it, Pompey, it is said, to gall and vex
them the more, designed to have his triumphant chariot drawn with four
elephants, (having brought over several which belonged to the African
kings,) but the gates of the city being too narrow, he was forced to
desist from that project, and be content with horses. And when his
soldiers, who had not received as large rewards as they had expected,
began to clamor, and interrupt the triumph, Pompey regarded these as
little as the rest, and plainly told them that he had rather lose the
honor of his triumph, than flatter them. Upon which Servilius, a man of
great distinction, and at first one of the chief opposers of Pompey's
triumph, said, he now perceived that Pompey was truly great and worthy
of a triumph. It is clear that he might easily have been a senator,
also, if he had wished, but he did not sue for that, being ambitious,
it seems, only of unusual honors. For what wonder had it been for
Pompey, to sit in the senate before his time? But to triumph before he
was in the senate, was really an excess of glory.
And moreover, it did not a little ingratiate him with the people; who
were much pleased to see him after his triumph take his place again
among the Roman knights. On the other side, it was no less distasteful
to Sylla to see how fast he came on, and to what a height of glory and
power he was advancing; yet being ashamed to hinder him, he kept quiet.
But when, against his direct wishes, Pompey got Lepidus made consul,
having openly joined in the canvass and, by the good-will the people
felt for himself, conciliated their favor for Lepidus, Sylla could
forbear no longer; but when he saw him coming away from the election
through the forum with a great train after him, cried out to him,
"Well, young man, I see you rejoice in your victory. And, indeed, is it
not a most generous and worthy act, that the consulship should be given
to Lepidus, the vilest of men, in preference to Catulus, the best and
most deserving in the city, and all by your influence with the people?
It will be well, however, for you to be wakeful and look to your
interests; as you have been making your enemy stronger than yourself."
But that which gave the clearest demonstration of Sylla's ill-will to
Pompey, was his last will and testament; for whereas he had bequeathed
several legacies to all the rest of his friends, and appointed some of
them guardians to his eon, he passed by Pompey without the least
remembrance. However, Pompey bore this with great moderation and
temper; and when Lepidus and others were disposed to obstruct his
interment in the Campus Martius, and to prevent any public funeral
taking place, came forward in support of it, and saw his obsequies
performed with all honor and security.
Shortly after the death of Sylla, his prophetic words were fulfilled;
and Lepidus proposing to be the successor to all his power and
authority, without any ambiguities or pretences, immediately appeared
in arms, rousing once more and gathering about him all the long
dangerous remains of the old factions, which had escaped the hand of
Sylla. Catulus, his colleague, who was followed by the sounder part of
the senate and people, was a man of the greatest esteem among the
Romans for wisdom and justice; but his talent lay in the government of
the city rather than the camp, whereas the exigency required the skill
of Pompey. Pompey, therefore, was not long in suspense which way to
dispose of himself, but joining with the nobility, was presently
appointed general of the army against Lepidus, who had already raised
up war in great part of Italy, and held Cisalpine Gaul in subjection
with an army under Brutus. As for the rest of his garrisons, Pompey
subdued them with ease in his march, but Mutina in Gaul resisted in a
formal siege, and he lay here a long time encamped against Brutus. In
the meantime Lepidus marched in all haste against Rome, and sitting
down before it with a crowd of followers, to the terror of those
within, demanded a second consulship. But that fear quickly vanished
upon letters sent from Pompey, announcing that he had ended the war
without a battle; for Brutus, either betraying his army, or being
betrayed by their revolt, surrendered himself to Pompey, and receiving
a guard of horse, was conducted to a little town upon the river Po;
where he was slain the next day by Geminius, in execution of Pompey's
commands. And for this Pompey was much censured; for, having at the
beginning of the revolt written to the senate that Brutus had
voluntarily surrendered himself, immediately afterward he sent other
letters, with matter of accusation against the man, after he was taken
off. Brutus, who with Cassius slew Caesar, was son to this Brutus;
neither in war nor in his death like his father, as appears at large in
his life. Lepidus upon this being driven out of Italy, fled to
Sardinia, where he fell sick and died of sorrow, not for his public
misfortunes, as they say, but, upon the discovery of a letter, proving
his wife to have been unfaithful to him.
There yet remained Sertorius, a very different general from Lepidus, in
possession of Spain, and making himself formidable to Rome; the final
disease, as it were, in which the scattered evils of the civil wars had
now collected. He had already cut off various inferior commanders, and
was at this time coping with Metellus Pius, a man of repute and a good
soldier, though perhaps he might now seem too slow, by reason of his
age, to second and improve the happier moments of war, and might be
sometimes wanting to those advantages which Sertorius by his quickness
and dexterity would wrest out of his hands. For Sertorius was always
hovering about, and coming upon him unawares, like a captain of thieves
rather than soldiers, disturbing him perpetually with ambuscades and
light skirmishes; whereas Metellus was accustomed to regular conduct,
and fighting in battle array with full-armed soldiers. Pompey,
therefore, keeping his army in readiness, made it his object to be sent
in aid to Metellus; neither would he be induced to disband his forces,
notwithstanding that Catulus called upon him to do so, but by some
colorable device or other he still kept them in arms about the city,
until the senate at last thought fit, upon the report of Lucius
Philippus, to decree him that government. At that time, they say, one
of the senators there expressing his wonder and demanding of Philippus
whether his meaning was that Pompey should be sent into Spain as
proconsul, "No," replied Philippus, "but as proconsuls," as if both
consuls for that year were in his opinion wholly useless.
When Pompey was arrived in Spain, as is usual upon the fame of a new
leader, men began to be inspired with new hopes, and those nations that
had not entered into a very strict alliance with Sertorius, began to
waver and revolt; whereupon Sertorius uttered various arrogant and
scornful speeches against Pompey, saying in derision, that he should
want no other weapon but a ferula and rod to chastise this boy with, if
he were not afraid of that old woman, meaning Metellus. Yet in deed and
reality he stood in awe of Pompey, and kept on his guard against him,
as appeared by his whole management of the war, which he was observed
to conduct much more warily than before; for Metellus, which one would
not have imagined, was grown excessively luxurious in his habits having
given himself over to self-indulgence and pleasure, and from a moderate
and temperate, became suddenly a sumptuous and ostentatious liver, so
that this very thing gained Pompey great reputation and goodwill, as he
made himself somewhat specially an example of frugality, although that
virtue was habitual in him, and required no great industry to exercise
it, as he was naturally inclined to temperance, and no ways inordinate
in his desires. The fortune of the war was very various; nothing
however annoyed Pompey so much as the taking of the town of Lauron by
Sertorius. For when Pompey thought he had him safe inclosed, and had
boasted somewhat largely of raising the siege, he found himself all of
a sudden encompassed; insomuch that he durst not move out of his camp,
but was forced to sit still whilst the city was taken and burnt before
his face. However, afterwards in a battle near Valentia, he gave great
defeat to Herennius and Perpenna, two commanders among the refugees who
had fled to Sertorius, and now lieutenants under him, in which he slew
above ten thousand men.
Pompey, being elated and filled with confidence by this victory, made
all haste to engage Sertorius himself, and the rather lest Metellus
should come in for a share in the honor of the victory. Late in the
day, towards sunset, they joined battle near the river Sucro, both
being in fear lest Metellus should come; Pompey, that he might engage
alone, Sertorius, that he might have one alone to engage with. The
issue of the battle proved doubtful, for a wing of each side had the
better; but of the generals, Sertorius had the greater honor, for that
he maintained his post, having put to flight the entire division that
was opposed to him, whereas Pompey was himself almost made a prisoner;
for being set upon by a strong man at arms that fought on foot, (he
being on horseback,) as they were closely engaged hand to hand, the
strokes of their swords chanced to light upon their hands, but with a
different success; for Pompey's was a slight wound only, whereas he cut
off the other's hand. However, it happened so, that many now falling
upon Pompey together, and his own forces there being put to the rout,
he made his escape beyond expectation, by quitting his horse, and
turning him out among the enemy. For the horse being richly adorned
with golden trappings, and having a caparison of great value, the
soldiers quarreled among themselves for the booty, so that while they
were fighting with one another, and dividing the spoil, Pompey made his
escape. By break of day the next morning, each drew out his forces into
the field to claim the victory; but Metellus coming up, Sertorius
vanished, having broken up and dispersed his army. For this was the way
in which he used to raise and disband his armies, so that sometimes he
would be wandering up and down all alone, and at other times again he
would come pouring into the field at the head of no less than one
hundred and fifty thousand fighting-men, swelling of a sudden like a
winter torrent.
When Pompey was going after the battle to meet and welcome Metellus,
and when they were near one another, he commanded his attendants to
lower their rods in honor of Metellus, as his senior and superior. But
Metellus on the other side forbade it, and behaved himself in general
very obligingly to him, not claiming any prerogative either in respect
of his consular rank or seniority; excepting only that when they
encamped together, the watchword was given to the whole camp by
Metellus. But generally they had their camps asunder, being divided and
distracted by the enemy, who took all shapes, and being always in
motion, would by some skillful artifice appear in a variety of places
almost in the same instant, drawing them from one attack to another,
and at last keeping them from foraging, wasting the country, and
holding the dominion of the sea, Sertorius drove them both out of that
part of Spain which was under his control, and forced them for want of
necessaries to retreat into provinces that did not belong to them.
Pompey, having made use of and expended the greatest part of his own
private revenues upon the war, sent and demanded moneys of the senate,
adding, that in case they did not furnish him speedily, he should be
forced to return into Italy with his army. Lucullus being consul at
that time, though at variance with Pompey, yet in consideration that he
himself was a candidate for the command against Mithridates, procured
and hastened these supplies, fearing lest there should be any presence
or occasion given to Pompey of returning home, who of himself was no
less desirous of leaving Sertorius, and of undertaking the war against
Mithridates, as an enterprise which by all appearance would prove much
more honorable and not so dangerous. In the meantime Sertorius died,
being treacherously murdered by some of his own party; and Perpenna,
the chief among them, took the command, and attempted to carry on the
same enterprises with Sertorius, having indeed the same forces and the
same means, only wanting the same skill and conduct in the use of them.
Pompey therefore marched directly against, Perpenna, and finding him
acting merely at random in his affairs, had a decoy ready for him, and
sent out a detachment of ten cohorts into the level country with orders
to range up and down and disperse themselves abroad. The bait took
accordingly, and no sooner had Perpenna turned upon the prey and had
them in chase, but Pompey appeared suddenly with all his army and
joining battle, gave him a total overthrow. Most of his officers were
slain in the field, and he himself being brought prisoner to Pompey,
was by his order put to death. Neither was Pompey guilty in this of
ingratitude or unmindfulness of what had occurred in Sicily, which some
have laid to his charge, but was guided by a high minded policy and a
deliberate counsel for the security of his country. For Perpenna,
having in his custody all Sertorius's papers, offered to produce
several letters from the greatest men in Rome, who, desirous of a
change and subversion of the government, had invited Sertorius into
Italy. And Pompey, fearing that these might be the occasion of worse
wars than those which were now ended, thought it advisable to put
Perpenna to death, and burnt the letters without reading them.
Pompey continued in Spain after this so long a time as was necessary
for the suppression of all the greatest disorders in the province; and
after moderating and allaying the more violent heats of affairs there,
returned with his army into Italy, where he arrived, as chance would
have it, in the height of the servile war. Accordingly, upon his
arrival, Crassus, the commander in that war, at some hazard
precipitated a battle, in which he had great success, and slew upon the
place twelve thousand three hundred of the insurgents. Nor yet was he
so quick, but that fortune reserved to Pompey some share of honor in
the success of this war, for five thousand of those that had escaped
out of the battle fell into his hands; and when he had totally cut them
off, he wrote to the senate, that Crassus had overthrown the slaves in
battle, but that he had plucked up the whole war by the roots. And it
was agreeable to the people in Rome both thus to say, and thus to hear
said, because of the general favor of Pompey. But of the Spanish war
and the conquest of Sertorius, no one, even in jest, could have
ascribed the honor to anyone else. Nevertheless, all this high respect
for him, and this desire to see him come home, were not unmixed with
apprehensions and suspicions that he might perhaps not disband his
army, but take his way by the force of arms and a supreme command to
the seat of Sylla. And so in the number of all those that ran out to
meet him and congratulate his return, as many went out of fear as
affection. But after Pompey had removed this alarm, by declaring
beforehand that he would discharge the army after his triumph, those
that envied him could now only complain that he affected popularity,
courting the common people more than the nobility, and that whereas
Sylla had abolished the tribuneship of the people, he designed to
gratify the people by restoring that office, which was indeed the fact.
For there was not any one thing that the people of Rome were more
wildly eager for, or more passionately desired, than the restoration of
that office, insomuch that Pompey thought himself extremely fortunate
in this opportunity, despairing (if he were anticipated by someone else
in this) of ever meeting with any other sufficient means of expressing
his gratitude for the favors which he had received from the people.
Though a second triumph was decreed him, and he was declared consul,
yet all these honors did not seem so great an evidence of his power and
glory, as the ascendant which he had over Crassus; for he, the
wealthiest among all the statesmen of his time, and the most eloquent
and greatest too, who had looked down on Pompey himself, and on all
others as beneath him, durst not appear a candidate for the consulship
before he had applied to Pompey. The request was made accordingly, and
was eagerly embraced by Pompey, who had long sought an occasion to
oblige him in some friendly office; so that he solicited for Crassus,
and entreated the people heartily, declaring, that their favor would be
no less to him in choosing Crassus his colleague, than in making
himself consul. Yet for all this, when they were created consuls, they
were always at variance, and opposing one another. Crassus prevailed
most in the senate, and Pompey's power was no less with the people, he
having restored to them the office of tribune, and having allowed the
courts of judicature to be transferred back to the knights by a new
law. He himself in person, too, afforded them a most grateful
spectacle, when he appeared and craved his discharge from the military
service. For it is an ancient custom among the Romans, that the
knights, when they had served out their legal time in the wars, should
lead their horses into the market-place before the two officers, called
censors, and having given an account of the commanders and generals
under whom they served, as also of the places and actions of their
service, should be discharged, every man with honor or disgrace,
according to his deserts. There were then sitting in state upon the
bench two censors, Gellius and Lentulus, inspecting the knights, who
were passing by in muster before them, when Pompey was seen coming down
into the forum, with all the ensigns of a consul, but leading his horse
in his hand. When he came up, he bade his lictors make way for him, and
so he led his horse to the bench; the people being all this while in a
sort of amaze, and all in silence, and the censors themselves regarding
the sight with a mixture of respect and gratification. Then the senior
censor examined him: "Pompeius Magnus, I demand of you whether you have
served the full time in the wars that is prescribed by the law?" "Yes,"
replied Pompey with a loud voice, "I have served all, and all under
myself as general." The people hearing this gave a great shout, and
made such an outcry for delight, that there was no appeasing it; and
the censors rising from their judgment-seat, accompanied him home to
gratify the multitude, who followed after, clapping their hands and
shouting.
Pompey's consulship was now expiring, and yet his difference with
Crassus increasing, when one Caius Aurelius, a knight, a man who had
declined public business all his lifetime, mounted the hustings, and
addressed himself in an oration to the assembly, declaring that Jupiter
had appeared to him in a dream, commanding him to tell the consuls,
that they should not give up office until they were friends. After this
was said, Pompey stood silent, but Crassus took him by the hand, and
spoke in this manner: "I do not think, fellow-citizens, that I shall do
anything mean or dishonorable, in yielding first to Pompey, whom you
were pleased to ennoble with the title of Great, when as yet he scarce
had a hair on his face; and granted the honor of two triumphs, before
he had a place in the senate." Hereupon they were reconciled and laid
down their office. Crassus resumed the manner of life which he had
always pursued before; but Pompey in the great generality of causes for
judgment declined appearing on either side, and by degrees withdrew
himself totally from the forum, showing himself but seldom in public;
and whenever he did, it was with a great train after him. Neither was
it easy to meet or visit him without a crowd of people about him; he
was most pleased to make his appearance before large numbers at once,
as though he wished to maintain in this way his state and majesty, and
as if he held himself bound to preserve his dignity from contact with
the addresses and conversation of common people. And life in the robe
of peace is only too apt to lower the reputation of men that have grown
great by arms, who naturally find difficulty in adapting themselves to
the habits of civil equality. They expect to be treated as the first in
the city, even as they were in the camp; and on the other hand, men who
in war were nobody, think it intolerable if in the city at any rate
they are not to take the lead. And so, when a warrior renowned for
victories and triumphs shall turn advocate and appear among them in the
forum, they endeavor their utmost to obscure and depress him; whereas,
if he gives up any pretensions here and retires, they will maintain his
military honor and authority beyond the reach of envy. Events
themselves not long after showed the truth of this.
The power of the pirates first commenced in Cilicia, having in truth
but a precarious and obscure beginning, but gained life and boldness
afterwards in the wars of Mithridates, where they hired themselves out,
and took employment in the king's service. Afterwards, whilst the
Romans were embroiled in their civil wars, being engaged against one
another even before the very gates of Rome, the seas lay waste and
unguarded, and by degrees enticed and drew them on not only to seize
upon and spoil the merchants and ships upon the seas, but also to lay
waste the islands and seaport towns. So that now there embarked with
these pirates men of wealth and noble birth and superior abilities, as
if it had been a natural occupation to gain distinction in. They had
divers arsenals, or piratic harbors, as likewise watch towers and
beacons, all along the sea-coast; and fleets were here received that
were well manned with the finest mariners, and well served with the
expertest pilots, and composed of swift sailing and light-built vessels
adapted for their special purpose. Nor was it merely their being thus
formidable that excited indignation; they were even more odious for
their ostentation than they were feared for their force. Their ships
had gilded masts at their stems; the sails woven of purple, and the
oars plated with silver, as if their delight were to glory in their
iniquity. There was nothing but music and dancing, banqueting and
revels, all along the shore. Officers in command were taken prisoners,
and cities put under contribution, to the reproach and dishonor of the
Roman supremacy. There were of these corsairs above one thousand sail,
and they had taken no less than four hundred cities, committing
sacrilege upon the temples of the gods, and enriching themselves with
the spoils of many never violated before, such as were those of Claros,
Didyma, and Samothrace; and the temple of the Earth in Hermione, and
that of Aesculapius in Epidaurus, those of Neptune at the Isthmus, at
Taenarus, and at Calauria; those of Apollo at Actium and Leucas, and
those of Juno, in Samos, at Argos, and at Lacinium. They themselves
offered strange sacrifices upon Mount Olympus, and performed certain
secret rites or religious mysteries, among which those of Mithras have
been preserved to our own time, having received their previous
institution from them. But besides these insolencies by sea, they were
also injurious to the Romans by land; for they would often go inland up
the roads, plundering and destroying their villages and country-houses.
And once they seized upon two Roman praetors, Sextilius and Bellinus,
in their purple-edged robes, and carried them off together with their
officers and lictors. The daughter also of Antonius, a man that had had
the honor of a triumph, taking a journey into the country, was seized,
and redeemed upon payment of a large ransom. But it was most abusive of
all, that when any of the captives declared himself to be a Roman and
told his name, they affected to be surprised, and feigning fear, smote
their thighs and fell down at his feet, humbly beseeching him to be
gracious and forgive them. The captive seeing them so humble and
suppliant, believed them to be in earnest; and some of them now would
proceed to put Roman shoes on his feet, and to dress him in a Roman
gown, to prevent, they said, his being mistaken another time. After all
this pageantry, when they had thus deluded and mocked him long enough,
at last putting out a ship's ladder, when they were in the midst of the
sea, they told him he was free to go, and wished him a pleasant
journey; and if he resisted, they themselves threw him overboard, and
drowned him.
This piratic power having got the dominion and control of all the
Mediterranean, there was left no place for navigation or commerce. And
this it was which most of all made the Romans, finding themselves to be
extremely straitened in their markets, and considering that if it
should continue, there would be a dearth and famine in the land,
determine at last to send out Pompey to recover the seas from the
pirates. Gabinius, one of Pompey's friends, preferred a law, whereby
there was granted to him, not only the government of the seas as
admiral, but in direct words, sole and irresponsible sovereignty over
all men. For the decree gave him absolute power and authority in all
the seas within the pillars of Hercules, and in the adjacent mainland
for the space of four hundred furlongs from the sea. Now there were but
few regions in the Roman empire out of that compass; and the greatest
of the nations and most powerful of the kings were included in the
limit. Moreover by this decree he had a power of selecting fifteen
lieutenants out of the senate, and of assigning to each his province in
charge; then he might take likewise out of the treasury and out of the
hands of the revenue-farmers what moneys he pleased; as also two
hundred sail of ships, with a power to press and levy what soldiers and
seamen he thought fit. When this law was read, the common people
approved of it exceedingly, but the chief men and most important among
the senators looked upon it as an exorbitant power, even beyond the
reach of envy, but well deserving their fears. Therefore concluding
with themselves that such unlimited authority was dangerous, they
agreed unanimously to oppose the bill, and all went against it, except
Caesar, who gave his vote for the law, not to gratify Pompey, but the
people, whose favor he had courted underhand from the beginning, and
hoped to compass for himself. The rest inveighed bitterly against
Pompey, insomuch that one of the consuls told him, that if he was
ambitious of the place of Romulus, he would scarce avoid his end, but
he was in danger of being torn in pieces by the multitude for his
speech. Yet when Catulus stood up to speak against the law, the people
in reverence to him were silent and attentive. And when, after saying
much in the most honorable terms in favor of Pompey, he proceeded to
advise the people in kindness to spare him, and not to expose a man of
his value to such a succession of dangers and wars, "For," said he,
"where could you find another Pompey, or whom would you have in case
you should chance to lose him?" they all cried out with one voice,
"Yourself." And so Catulus, finding all his rhetoric ineffectual,
desisted. Then Roscius attempted to speak, but could obtain no hearing,
and made signs with his fingers, intimating, "Not him alone," but that
there might be a second Pompey or colleague in authority with him. Upon
this, it is said, the multitude being extremely incensed, made such a
loud outcry, that a crow flying over the market-place at that instant
was struck, and drops down among the crowd; whence it would appear that
the cause of birds falling down to the ground, is not any rupture or
division of the air causing a vacuum, but purely the actual stroke of
the voice, which when carried up in a great mass and with violence,
raises a sort of tempest and billow, as it were, in the air.
The assembly broke up for that day; and when the day was come, on which
the bill was to pass by suffrage into a decree, Pompey went privately
into the country; but hearing that it was passed and confirmed, he
resumed again into the city by night, to avoid the envy that might be
occasioned by the concourse of people that would meet and congratulate
him. The next morning he came abroad and sacrificed to the gods, and
having audience at an open assembly, so handled the matter that they
enlarged his power, giving him many things besides what was already
granted, and almost doubling the preparation appointed in the former
decree. Five hundred ships were manned for him, and an army raised of
one hundred and twenty thousand foot, and five thousand horse.
Twenty-four senators that had been generals of armies were appointed to
serve as lieutenants under him, and to these were added two quaestors.
Now it happened within this time that the prices of provisions were
much reduced, which gave an occasion to the joyful people of saying,
that the very name of Pompey had ended the war. However, Pompey in
pursuance of his charge divided all the seas, and the whole
Mediterranean into thirteen parts, allotting a squadron to each, under
the command of his officers; and having thus dispersed his power into
all quarters, and encompassed the pirates everywhere, they began to
fall into his hands by whole shoals, which he seized and brought into
his harbors. As for those that withdrew themselves betimes, or
otherwise escaped his general chase, they all made to Cilicia, where
they hid themselves as in their hive; against whom Pompey now proceeded
in person with sixty of his best ships, not however until he had first
scoured and cleared all the seas near Rome, the Tyrrhenian, and the
African, and all the waters of Sardinia, Corsica, and Sicily; all which
he performed in the space of forty days, by his own indefatigable
industry and the zeal of his lieutenants.
Pompey met with some interruption in Rome, through the malice and envy
of Piso, the consul, who had given some check to his proceedings, by
withholding his stores and discharging his seamen; whereupon he sent
his fleet round to Brundusium, himself going the nearest way by land
through Tuscany to Rome; which was no sooner known by the people, than
they all flocked out to meet him upon the way, as if they had not sent
him out but few days before. What chiefly excited their joy, was the
unexpectedly rapid change in the markets, which abounded now with the
greatest plenty, so that Piso was in great danger to have been deprived
of his consulship, Gabinius having a law ready prepared for that
purpose; but Pompey forbade it, behaving himself as in that, so in all
things else, with great moderation, and when he had made sure of all
that he wanted or desired, he departed for Brundusium, whence he set
sail in pursuit of the pirates. And though he was straitened in time,
and his hasty voyage forced him to sail by several cities without
touching, yet he would not pass by the city of Athens unsaluted; but
landing there, after he had sacrificed to the gods, and made an address
to the people, as he was returning out of the city, he read at the
gates two epigrams, each in a single line, written in his own praise;
one within the gate: --
Thy humbler thoughts make thee a god the more;
the other without: --
Adieu we bid, who welcome bade before.
Now because Pompey had shown himself merciful to some of these pirates
that were yet roving in bodies about the seas, having upon their
supplication ordered a seizure of their ships and persons only, without
any further process or severity, therefore the rest of their comrades
in hopes of mercy too, made their escape from his other commanders, and
surrendered themselves with their wives and children into his
protection. He continued to pardon all that came in, and the rather
because by them he might make discovery of those who fled from his
justice, as conscious that their crimes were beyond an act of
indemnity. The most numerous and important part of these conveyed their
families and treasures, with all their people that were unfit for war,
into castles and strong forts about Mount Taurus; but they themselves
having well manned their galleys, embarked for Coracesium in Cilicia,
where they received Pompey and gave him battle. Here they had a final
overthrow, and retired to the land, where they were besieged. At last,
having dispatched their heralds to him with a submission, they
delivered up to his mercy themselves, their towns, islands, and
strong-holds, all which they had so fortified that they were almost
impregnable, and scarcely even accessible.
Thus was this war ended, and the whole power of the pirates at sea
dissolved everywhere in the space of three months, wherein, besides a
great number of other vessels, he took ninety men-of-war with brazen
beaks; and likewise prisoners of war to the number of no less than
twenty thousand.
As regarded the disposal of these prisoners, he never so much as
entertained the thought of putting them to death; and yet it might be
no less dangerous on the other hand to disperse them, as they might
reunite and make head again, being numerous, poor, and warlike.
Therefore wisely weighing with himself, that man by nature is not a
wild or unsocial creature, neither was he born so, but makes himself
what he naturally is not, by vicious habit; and that again on the other
side, he is civilized and grows gentle by a change of place,
occupation, and manner of life, as beasts themselves that are wild by
nature, become tame and tractable by housing and gentler usage, upon
this consideration he determined to translate these pirates from sea to
land, and give them a taste of an honest and innocent course of life,
by living in towns, and tilling the ground. Some therefore were
admitted into the small and half-peopled towns of the Cilicians, who
for an enlargement of their territories, were willing to receive them.
Others he planted in the city of the Solians, which had been lately
laid waste by Tigranes, king of Armenia, and which he now restored. But
the largest number were settled in Dyme, the town of Achaea, at that
time extremely depopulated, and possessing an abundance of good land.
However, these proceedings could not escape the envy and censure of his
enemies; and the course he took against Metellus in Crete was
disapproved of even by the chiefest of his friends. For Metellus, a
relation of Pompey's former colleague in Spain, had been sent praetor
into Crete, before this province of the seas was assigned to Pompey.
Now Crete was the second source of pirates next to Cilicia, and
Metellus having shut up a number of them in their strong-holds there,
was engaged in reducing and extirpating them. Those that were yet
remaining and besieged sent their supplications to Pompey, and invited
him into the island as a part of his province, alleging it to fall,
every part of it, within the distance from the sea specified in his
commission, and so within the precincts of his charge. Pompey receiving
the submission, sent letters to Metellus, commanding him to leave off
the war; and others in like manner to the cities, in which he charged
them not to yield any obedience to the commands of Metellus. And after
these, he sent Lucius Octavius, one of his lieutenants, to act as
general, who entering the besieged fortifications, and fighting in
defense of the pirates, rendered Pompey not odious only, but even
ridiculous too; that he should lend his name as a guard to a nest of
thieves, that knew neither god nor law, and make his reputation serve
as a sanctuary to them, only out of pure envy and emulation to
Metellus. For neither was Achilles thought to act the part of a man,
but rather of a mere boy, mad after glory, when by signs he forbade the
rest of the Greeks to strike at Hector: --
"for fear
Some other hand should give the blow, and he
Lose the first honor of the victory."
Whereas Pompey even sought to preserve the common enemies of the world,
only that he might deprive a Roman praetor, after all his labors, of
the honor of a triumph. Metellus however was not daunted, but
prosecuted the war against the pirates, expelled them from their
strongholds and punished them; and dismissed Octavius with the insults
and reproaches of the whole camp.
When the news came to Rome that the war with the pirates was at an end,
and that Pompey was unoccupied, diverting himself in visits to the
cities for want of employment, one Manlius, a tribune of the people,
preferred a law that Pompey should have all the forces of Lucullus, and
the provinces under his government, together with Bithynia, which was
under the command of Glabrio; and that he should forthwith conduct the
war against the two kings, Mithridates and Tigranes, retaining still
the same naval forces and the sovereignty of the seas as before. But
this was nothing less than to constitute one absolute monarch of all
the Roman empire. For the provinces which seemed to be exempt from his
commission by the former decree, such as were Phrygia, Lycaonia,
Galatia, Cappadocia, Cilicia, the upper Colchis, and Armenia, were all
added in by this latter law, together with all the troops and forces
with which Lucullus had defeated Mithridates and Tigranes. And though
Lucullus was thus simply robbed of the glory of his achievements in
having a successor assigned him, rather to the honor of his triumph,
than the danger of the war; yet this was of less moment in the eyes of
the aristocratical party, though they could not but admit the injustice
and ingratitude to Lucullus. But their great grievance was, that the
power of Pompey should be converted into a manifest tyranny; and they
therefore exhorted and encouraged one another privately to bend all
their forces in opposition to this law, and not tamely to cast away
their liberty; yet when the day came on which it was to pass into a
decree, their hearts failed them for fear of the people, and all were
silent except Catulus, who boldly inveighed against the law and its
proposer, and when he found that he could do nothing with the people,
turned to the senate, crying out and bidding them seek out some
mountain as their forefathers had done, and fly to the rocks where they
might preserve their liberty. The law passed into a decree, as it is
said, by the suffrages of all the tribes. And Pompey in his absence was
made lord of almost all that power, which Sylla only obtained by force
of arms, after a conquest of the very city itself. When Pompey had
advice by letters of the decree, it is said that in the presence of his
friends, who came to give him joy of his honor, he seemed displeased,
frowning and smiting his thigh, and exclaimed as one overburdened, and
weary of government, "Alas, what a series of labors upon labors! If I
am never to end my service as a soldier, nor to escape from this
invidious greatness, and live at home in the country with my wife, I
had better have been an unknown man." But all this was looked upon as
mere trifling, neither indeed could the best of his friends call it
anything else, well knowing that his enmity with Lucullus, setting a
flame just now to his natural passion for glory and empire, made him
feel more than usually gratified.
As indeed appeared not long afterwards by his actions, which clearly
unmasked him; for in the first place, he sent out his proclamations
into all quarters, commanding the soldiers to join him, and summoned
all the tributary kings and princes within his charge; and in short, as
soon as he had entered upon his province, he left nothing unaltered
that had been done and established by Lucullus. To some he remitted
their penalties, and deprived others of their rewards, and acted in all
respects as if with the express design that the admirers of Lucullus
might know that all his authority was at an end. Lucullus expostulated
by friends, and it was thought fitting that there should be a meeting
betwixt them; and accordingly they met in the country of Galatia. As
they were both great and successful generals, their officers bore their
rods before them all wreathed with branches of laurel; Lucullus came
through a country full of green trees and shady woods, but Pompey's
march was through a cold and barren district. Therefore the lictors of
Lucullus, perceiving that Pompey's laurels were withered and dry,
helped him to some of their own, and adorned and crowned his rods with
fresh laurels. This was thought ominous, and looked as if Pompey came
to take away the reward and honor of Lucullus's victories. Lucullus had
the priority in the order of consulships, and also in age; but Pompey's
two triumphs made him the greater man. Their first addresses in this
interview were dignified and friendly, each magnifying the other's
actions, and offering congratulations upon his success. But when they
came to the matter of their conference or treaty, they could agree on
no fair or equitable terms of any kind, but even came to harsh words
against each other, Pompey upbraiding Lucullus with avarice, and
Lucullus retorting ambition upon Pompey, so that their friends could
hardly part them. Lucullus, remaining in Galatia, made a distribution
of the lands within his conquests, and gave presents to whom he
pleased; and Pompey encamping not far distant from him, sent out his
prohibitions, forbidding the execution of any of the orders of
Lucullus, and commanded away all his soldiers, except sixteen hundred,
whom he thought likely to be unserviceable to himself, being disorderly
and mutinous, and whom he knew to be hostile to Lucullus; and to these
acts he added satirical speeches, detracting openly from the glory of
his actions, and giving out, that the battles of Lucullus had been but
with the mere stage-shows and idle pictures of royal pomp, whereas the
real war against a genuine army, disciplined by defeat, was reserved to
him, Mithridates having now begun to be in earnest, and having betaken
himself to his shields, swords, and horses. Lucullus, on the other
side, to be even with him, replied, that Pompey came to fight with the
mere image and shadow of war, it being his usual practice, like a lazy
bird of prey, to come upon the carcass, when others had slain the dead,
and to tear in pieces the relics of a war. Thus he had appropriated to
himself the victories over Sertorius, over Lepidus, and over the
insurgents under Spartacus; whereas this last had been achieved by
Crassus, that obtained by Catulus, and the first won by Metellus. And
therefore it was no great wonder, that the glory of the Pontic and
Armenian war should be usurped by a man who had condescended to any
artifices to work himself into the honor of a triumph over a few
runaway slaves.
After this Lucullus went away, and Pompey having placed his whole navy
in guard upon the seas betwixt Phoenicia and Bosporus, himself marched
against Mithridates, who had a phalanx of thirty thousand foot, with
two thousand horse, yet durst not bid him battle. He had encamped upon
a strong mountain where it would have been hard to attack him, but
abandoned it in no long time, as destitute of water. No sooner was he
gone but Pompey occupied it, and observing the plants that were
thriving there, together with the hollows which he found in several
places, conjectured that such a plot could not be without springs, and
therefore ordered his men to sink wells in every corner. After which
there was, in a little time, great plenty of water throughout all the
camp, insomuch that he wondered how it was possible for Mithridates to
be ignorant of this, during all that time of his encampment there.
After this Pompey followed him to his next camp, and there drawing
lines round about him, shut him in. But he, after having endured a
siege of forty-five days, made his escape secretly, and fled away with
all the best part of his army, having first put to death all the sick
and unserviceable. Not long after Pompey overtook him again near the
banks of the river Euphrates, and encamped close by him; but fearing
lest he should pass over the river and give him the slip there too, he
drew up his army to attack him at midnight. And at that very time
Mithridates, it is said, saw a vision in his dream foreshowing what
should come to pass. For he seemed to be under sail in the Euxine Sea
with a prosperous gale, and just in view of Bosporus, discoursing
pleasantly with the ship's company, as one overjoyed for his past
danger and present security, when on a sudden he found himself deserted
of all, and floating upon a broken plank of the ship at the mercy of
the sea. Whilst he was thus laboring under these passions and
phantasms, his friends came and awaked him with the news of Pompey's
approach; who was now indeed so near at hand, that the fight must be
for the camp itself, and the commanders accordingly drew up the forces
in battle array. Pompey perceiving how ready they were and well
prepared for defense, began to doubt with himself whether he should put
it to the hazard of a fight in the dark, judging it more prudent to
encompass them only at present, lest they should fly, and to give them
battle with the advantage of numbers the next day. But his oldest
officers were of another opinion, and by entreaties and encouragements
obtained permission that they might charge them immediately. Neither
was the night so very dark, but that, though the moon was going down,
it yet gave light enough to discern a body. And indeed this was one
especial disadvantage to the king's army. For the Romans coming upon
them with the moon on their backs, the moon, being very low, and just
upon setting, cast the shadows a long way before their bodies, reaching
almost to the enemy, whose eyes were thus so much deceived that not
exactly discerning the distance, but imagining them to be near at hand,
they threw their darts at the shadows, without the least execution. The
Romans therefore perceiving this, ran in upon them with a great shout;
but the barbarians, all in a panic, unable to endure the charge, turned
and fled, and were put to great slaughter, above ten thousand being
slain; the camp also was taken. As for Mithridates himself, he at the
beginning of the onset, with a body of eight hundred horse charged
through the Roman army, and made his escape. But before long all the
rest dispersed, some one way, some another, and he was left only with
three persons, among whom was his concubine, Hypsicratia, a girl always
of a manly and daring spirit, and the king called her on that account
Hypsicrates. She being attired and mounted like a Persian horseman,
accompanied the king in all his flight, never weary even in the longest
journey, nor ever failing to attend the king in person, and look after
his horse too, until they came to Inora, a castle of the king's, well
stored with gold and treasure. From thence Mithridates took his richest
apparel, and gave it among those that had resorted to him in their
flight; and to every one of his friends he gave a deadly poison, that
they might not fall into the power of the enemy against their wills.
From thence he designed to have gone to Tigranes in Armenia, but being
prohibited by Tigranes, who put out a proclamation with a reward of one
hundred talents to any one that should apprehend him, he passed by the
head-waters of the river Euphrates, and fled through the country of
Colchis.
Pompey in the meantime made an invasion into Armenia, upon the
invitation of young Tigranes, who was now in rebellion against his
father, and gave Pompey a meeting about the river Araxes, which rises
near the head of Euphrates, but turning its course and bending towards
the east, falls into the Caspian Sea. They two, therefore, marched
together through the country, taking in all the cities by the way, and
receiving their submission. But king Tigranes, having lately suffered
much in the war with Lucullus, and understanding that Pompey was of a
kind and gentle disposition, admitted Roman troops into his royal
palaces, and taking along with him his friends and relations, went in
person to surrender himself into the hands of Pompey. He came as far as
the trenches on horseback, but there he was met by two of Pompey's
lictors, who commanded him to alight and walk on foot, for no man ever
was seen on horseback within a Roman camp. Tigranes submitted to this
immediately, and not only so, but loosing his sword, delivered up that
too; and last of all, as soon as he appeared before Pompey, he pulled
off his royal turban, and attempted to have laid it at his feet. Nay,
worst of all, even he himself had fallen prostrate as an humble
suppliant at his knees, had not Pompey prevented it, taking him by the
hand and placing him near him, Tigranes himself on one side of him and
his son upon the other. Pompey now told him that the rest of his losses
were chargeable upon Lucullus, by whom he had been dispossessed of
Syria, Phoenicia, Cilicia, Galatia, and Sophene; but all that he had
preserved to himself entire till that time he should peaceably enjoy,
paying the sum of six thousand talents as a fine or penalty for
injuries done to the Romans, and that his son should have the kingdom
of Sophene. Tigranes himself was well pleased with these conditions of
peace, and when the Romans saluted him king, seemed to be overjoyed,
and promised to every common soldier half a mina of silver, to every
centurion ten minas, and to every tribune a talent; but the son was
displeased, insomuch that when he was invited to supper, he replied,
that he did not stand in need of Pompey for that sort of honor, for he
would find out some other Roman to sup with. Upon this he was put into
close arrest, and reserved for the triumph.
Not long after this Phraates, king of Parthia, sent to Pompey, and
demanded to have young Tigranes, as his son-in-law, given up to him,
and that the river Euphrates should be the boundary of the empires.
Pompey replied, that for Tigranes, he belonged more to his own natural
father than his father-in-law, and for the boundaries, he would take
care that they should be according to right and justice.
So Pompey, leaving Armenia in the custody of Afranius, went himself in
chase of Mithridates; to do which he was forced of necessity to march
through several nations inhabiting about Mount Caucasus. Of these the
Albanians and Iberians were the two chiefest. The Iberians stretch out
as far as the Moschian mountains and the Pontus; the Albanians lie more
eastwardly, and towards the Caspian Sea. These Albanians at first
permitted Pompey, upon his request, to pass through the country; but
when winter had stolen upon the Romans whilst they were still in the
country, and they were busy celebrating the festival of Saturn, they
mustered a body of no less than forty thousand fighting men, and set
upon them, having passed over the river Cyrnus, which rising from the
mountains of Iberia, and receiving the river Araxes in its course from
Armenia, discharges itself by twelve mouths into the Caspian. Or,
according to others, the Araxes does not fall into it, but they flow
near one another, and so discharge themselves as neighbors into the
same sea. It was in the power of Pompey to have obstructed the enemy's
passage over the river, but he suffered them to pass over quietly; and
then leading on his forces and giving battle, he routed them, and slew
great numbers of them in the field. The king sent ambassadors with his
submission, and Pompey upon his supplication pardoned the offense, and
making a treaty with him, he marched directly against the Iberians, a
nation no less in number than the other, but much more warlike, and
extremely desirous of gratifying Mithridates, and driving out Pompey.
These Iberians were never subject to the Medes or Persians, and they
happened likewise to escape the dominion of the Macedonians, because
Alexander was so quick in his march through Hyrcania. But these also
Pompey subdued in a great battle, where there were slain nine thousand
upon the spot, and more than ten thousand taken prisoners. From thence
he entered into the country of Colchis, where Servilius met him by the
river Phasis, bringing the fleet with which he was guarding the Pontus.
The pursuit of Mithridates, who had thrown himself among the tribes
inhabiting Bosporus and the shores of the Maeotian Sea, presented great
difficulties. News was also brought to Pompey that the Albanians had
again revolted. This made him turn back, out of anger and determination
not to be beaten by them, and with difficulty and great danger he
passed back over the Cyrnus, which the barbarous people had fortified a
great way down the banks with palisadoes. And after this, having a
tedious march to make through a waterless and difficult country, he
ordered ten thousand skins to be filled with water, and so advanced
towards the enemy; whom he found drawn up in order of battle near the
river Abas, to the number of sixty thousand horse, and twelve thousand
foot, ill armed generally, and most of them covered only with the skins
of wild beasts. Their general was Cosis, the king's brother, who as
soon as the battle was begun, singled out Pompey, and rushing in upon
him, darted his javelin into the joints of his breastplate; while
Pompey, in return, struck him through the body with his lance, and slew
him. It is related that in this battle there were Amazons fighting as
auxiliaries with the barbarians, and that they came down from the
mountains by the river Thermodon. For that after the battle, when the
Romans were taking the spoil and plunder of the field, they met with
several targets and buskins of the Amazons; but no woman's body was
found among the dead. They inhabit the parts of Mount Caucasus that
reach down to the Hyrcanian Sea, not immediately bordering upon the
Albanians, for the Gelae and the Leges lie betwixt; and they keep
company with these people yearly, for two months only, near the river
Thermodon; after which they retire to their own habitations, and live
alone all the rest of the year.
After this engagement, Pompey was eager to advance with his forces upon
the Hyrcanian and Caspian Sea, but was forced to retreat at a distance
of three days' march from it, by the number of venomous serpents, and
so he retreated into Armenia the Less. Whilst he was there, kings of
the Elymaeans and Medes sent ambassadors to him, to whom he gave
friendly answer by letter; and sent against the king of Parthia, who
had made incursions upon Gordyene, and despoiled the subjects of
Tigranes, an army under the command of Afranius, who put him to the
rout, and followed him in chase as far as the district of Arbela.
Of the concubines of king Mithridates that were brought before Pompey,
he took none to himself, but sent them all away to their parents and
relations; most of them being either the daughters or wives of princes
and great commanders. Stratonice, however, who had the greatest power
and influence with him, and to whom he had committed the custody of his
best and richest fortress, had been, it seems, the daughter of a
musician, an old man, and of no great fortune, and happening to sing
one night before Mithridates at a banquet, she struck his fancy so,
that immediately he took her with him, and sent away the old man much
dissatisfied, the king having not so much as said one kind word to
himself. But when he rose in the morning, and saw tables in his house
richly covered with gold and silver plate, a great retinue of servants,
eunuchs, and pages, bringing him rich garments, and a horse standing
before the door richly caparisoned, in all respects as was usual with
the king's favorites, he looked upon it all as a piece of mockery, and
thinking himself trifled with, attempted to make off and run away. But
the servants laying hold upon him, and informing him really that the
king had bestowed on him the house and furniture of a rich man lately
deceased, and that these were but the first-fruits or earnests of
greater riches and possessions that were to come, he was persuaded at
last with much difficulty to believe them. And so putting on his purple
robes, and mounting his horse, he rode through the city, crying out,
"All this is mine;" and to those that laughed at him, he said, there
was no such wonder in this, but it was a wonder rather that he did not
throw stones at all he met, he was so transported with joy. Such was
the parentage and blood of Stratonice. She now delivered up this castle
into the hands of Pompey, and offered him many presents of great value,
of which he accepted only such as he thought might serve to adorn the
temples of the gods, and add to the splendor of his triumph; the rest
he left to Stratonice's disposal, bidding her please herself in the
enjoyment of them.
And in the same manner he dealt with the presents offered him by the
king of Iberia, who sent him a bedstead, table, and a chair of state,
all of gold, desiring him to accept of them; but he delivered them all
into the custody of the public treasurers, for the use of the
Commonwealth.
In another castle called Caenum, Pompey found and read with pleasure
several secret writings of Mithridates, containing much that threw
light on his character. For there were memoirs by which it appeared
that besides others, he had made away with his son Ariarathes by
poison, as also with Alcaeus the Sardian, for having robbed him of the
first honors in a horse-race. There were several judgments upon the
interpretation of dreams, which either he himself or some of his
mistresses had had; and besides these, there was a series of wanton
letters to and from his concubine Monime. Theophanes tells us that
there was found also an address by Rutilius, in which he attempted to
exasperate him to the laughter of all the Romans in Asia; though most
men justly conjecture this to be a malicious invention of Theophanes,
who probably hated Rutilius because he was a man in nothing like
himself; or perhaps it might be to gratify Pompey, whose father is
described by Rutilius in his history, as the vilest man alive.
From thence Pompey came to the city of Amisus, where his passion for
glory put him into a position which might be called a punishment on
himself. For whereas he had often sharply reproached Lucullus, in that
while the enemy was still living, he had taken upon him to issue
decrees, and distribute rewards and honors, as conquerors usually do
only when the war is brought to an end, yet now was he himself, while
Mithridates was paramount in the kingdom of Bosporus, and at the head
of a powerful army, as if all were ended, just doing the same thing,
regulating the provinces, and distributing rewards, many great
commanders and princes having flocked to him, together with no less
than twelve barbarian kings; insomuch that to gratify these other
kings, when he wrote to the king of Parthia, he would not condescend,
as others used to do, in the superscription of his letter, to give him
his title of king of kings.
Moreover, he had a great desire and emulation to occupy Syria, and to
march through Arabia to the Red Sea, that he might thus extend his
conquests every way to the great ocean that encompasses the habitable
earth; as in Africa he was the first Roman that advanced his victories
to the ocean; and again in Spain he made the Atlantic Sea the limit of
the empire; and then thirdly, in his late pursuit of the Albanians, he
had wanted but little of reaching the Hyrcanian Sea. Accordingly he
raised his camp, designing to bring the Red Sea within the circuit of
his expedition, especially as he saw how difficult it was to hunt after
Mithridates with an army, and that he would prove a worse enemy flying
than fighting. But yet he declared, that he would leave a sharper enemy
behind him than himself, namely, famine; and therefore he appointed a
guard of ships to lie in wait for the merchants that sailed to
Bosporus, death being the penalty for any who should attempt to carry
provisions thither.
Then he set forward with the greatest part of his army, and in his
march casually fell in with several dead bodies still uninterred, of
those soldiers who were slain with Triarius in his unfortunate
engagement with Mithridates; these he buried splendidly and honorably.
The neglect of whom, it is thought, caused, as much as anything, the
hatred that was felt against Lucullus, and alienated the affections of
the soldiers from him. Pompey having now by his forces under the
command of Afranius, subdued the Arabians about the mountain Amanus,
himself entered Syria, and finding it destitute of any natural and
lawful prince, reduced it into the form of a province, as a possession
of the people of Rome. He conquered also Judaea, and took its king,
Aristobulus, captive. Some cities he built anew, and to others he gave
their liberty, chastising their tyrants. Most part of the time that he
spent there was employed in the administration of justice, In deciding
controversies of kings and States; and where he himself could not be
present in person, he gave commissions to his friends, and sent them.
Thus when there arose a difference betwixt the Armenians and Parthians
about some territory, and the judgment was referred to him, he gave a
power by commission to three judges and arbiters to hear and determine
the controversy. For the reputation of his power was great; nor was the
fame of his justice and clemency inferior to that of his power, and
served indeed as a veil for a multitude of faults committed by his
friends and familiars. For although it was not in his nature to check
or chastise wrongdoers, yet he himself always treated those that had to
do with him in such a manner, that they submitted to endure with
patience the acts of covetousness and oppression done by others.
Among these friends of his, there was one Demetrius who had the
greatest influence with him of all; he was a freed slave, a youth of
good understanding, but somewhat too insolent in his good fortune, of
whom there goes this story. Cato, the philosopher, being as yet a very
young man, but of great repute and a noble mind, took a journey of
pleasure to Antioch, at a time when Pompey was not there, having a
great desire to see the city. He, as his custom was, walked on foot,
and his friends accompanied him on horseback; and seeing before the
gates of the city a multitude dressed in white, the young men on one
side of the road, and the boys on the other, he was somewhat offended
at it, imagining that it was officiously done in honor of him, which
was more than he had any wish for. However, he desired his companions
to alight and walk with him; but when they drew near, the master of the
ceremonies in this procession came out with a garland and a rod in his
hand, and met them, inquiring, where they had left Demetrius, and when
he would come? Upon which Cato's companions burst out into laughter,
but Cato said only, "Alas, poor city!" and passed by without any other
answer. However, Pompey rendered Demetrius less odious to others by
enduring his presumption and impertinence to himself. For it is
reported how that Pompey, when he had invited his friends to an
entertainment, would be very ceremonious in waiting, till they all came
and were placed, while Demetrius would be already stretched upon the
couch as if he cared for no one, with his dress over his ears, hanging
down from his head. Before his return into Italy, he had purchased the
pleasantest country-seat about Rome, with the finest walks and places
for exercise, and there were sumptuous gardens, called by the name of
Demetrius, while Pompey his master, up to his third triumph, was
contented with an ordinary and simple habitation. Afterwards, it is
true, when he had erected his famous and stately theater for the people
of Rome, he built as a sort of appendix to it, a house for himself,
much more splendid than his former, and yet no object even this to
excite men's envy, since he who came to be master of it after Pompey
could not but express wonder and inquire where Pompey the Great used to
sup. Such is the story told us.
The king of the Arabs near Petra, who had hitherto despised the power
of the Romans, now began to be in great alarm at it, and sent letters
to him promising to be at his commands, and to do whatever he should
see fit to order. However, Pompey having a desire to confirm and keep
him in the same mind, marched forwards for Petra, an expedition not
altogether irreprehensible in the opinion of many; who thought it a
mere running away from their proper duty, the pursuit of Mithridates,
Rome's ancient and inveterate enemy, who was now rekindling the war
once more, and making preparations, it was reported, to lead his army
through Scythia and Paeonia, into Italy. Pompey, on the other side,
judging it easier to destroy his forces in battle, than to seize his
person in flight, resolved not to tire himself out in a vain pursuit,
but rather to spend his leisure upon another enemy, as a sort of
digression in the meanwhile. But fortune resolved the doubt; for when
he was now not far from Petra, and had pitched his tents and encamped
for that day, as he was talking exercise with his horse outside the
camp, couriers came riding up from Pontus, bringing good news, as was
known at once by the heads of their javelins, which it is the custom to
carry crowned with branches of laurel. The soldiers, as soon as they
saw them, flocked immediately to Pompey, who notwithstanding was minded
to finish his exercise; but when they began to be clamorous and
importunate, he alighted from his horse, and taking the letters went
before them into the camp. Now there being no tribunal erected there,
not even that military substitute for one which they make by cutting up
thick turfs of earth and piling them one upon another, they, through
eagerness and impatience, heaped up a pile of pack-saddles, and Pompey
standing upon that, told them the news of Mithridates's death, how that
he had himself put an end to his life upon the revolt of his son
Pharnaces, and that Pharnaces had taken all things there into his hands
and possession, which he did, his letters said, in right of himself and
the Romans. Upon this news, the whole army expressing their joy, as was
to be expected, fell to sacrificing to the gods, and feasting, as if in
the person of Mithridates alone there had died many thousands of their
enemies.
Pompey by this event having brought this war to its completion, with
much more ease than was expected, departed forthwith out of Arabia, and
passing rapidly through the intermediate provinces, he came at length
to the city Amisus. There he received many presents brought from
Pharnaces, with several dead bodies of the royal blood, and the corpse
of Mithridates himself, which was not easy to be known by the face, for
the physicians that embalmed him had not dried up his brain, but those
who were curious to see him knew him by the scars there. Pompey himself
would not endure to see him, but to deprecate the divine jealousy, sent
it away to the city of Sinope. He admired the richness of his robes, no
less than the size and splendor of his armor. His swordbelt, however,
which had cost four hundred talents, was stolen by Publius, and sold to
Ariarathes; his tiara also, a piece of admirable workmanship, Gaius,
the roster brother of Mithridates, gave secretly to Faustus, the son of
Sylla, at his request. All which Pompey was ignorant of, but
afterwards, when Pharnaces came to understand it, he severely punished
those that embezzled them.
Pompey now having ordered all things, and established that province,
took his journey homewards in greater pomp and with more festivity. For
when he came to Mitylene, he gave the city their freedom upon the
intercession of Theophanes, and was present at the contest, there
periodically held, of the poets, who took at that time no other theme
or subject than the actions of Pompey. He was extremely pleased with
the theater itself, and had a model of it taken, intending to erect one
in Rome on the same design, but larger and more magnificent. When he
came to Rhodes, he attended the lectures of all the philosophers there,
and gave to every one of them a talent. Posidonius has published the
disputation which he held before him against Hermagoras the
rhetorician, upon the subject of Invention in general. At Athens, also,
he showed similar, munificence to the philosophers, and gave fifty
talents towards the repairing and beautifying the city. So that now by
all these acts he well hoped to return into Italy in the greatest
splendor and glory possible to man, and find his family as desirous to
see him, as he felt himself to come home to them. But that supernatural
agency, whose province and charge it is always to mix some ingredient
of evil with the greatest and most glorious goods of fortune, had for
some time back been busy in his household, preparing him a sad welcome.
For Mucia during his absence had dishonored his bed. Whilst he was
abroad at a distance, he had refused all credence to the report; but
when he drew nearer to Italy, where his thoughts were more at leisure
to give consideration to the charge, he sent her a bill of divorce; but
neither then in writing, nor afterwards by word of mouth, did he ever
give a reason why he discharged her; the cause of it is mentioned in
Cicero's epistles.
Rumors of every kind were scattered abroad about Pompey, and were
carried to Rome before him, so that there was a great tumult and stir,
as if he designed forthwith to march with his army into the city, and
establish himself securely as sole ruler. Crassus withdrew himself,
together with his children and property, out of the city, either that
he was really afraid, or that he counterfeited rather, as is most
probable, to give credit to the calumny and exasperate the jealousy of
the people. Pompey, therefore, as soon as he entered Italy, called a
general muster of the army; and having made a suitable address and
exchanged a kind farewell with his soldiers, he commanded them to
depart every man to his country and place of habitation, only taking
care that they should not fail to meet again at his triumph. Thus the
army being disbanded, and the news commonly reported, a wonderful
result ensued. For when the cities saw Pompey the Great passing through
the country unarmed, and with a small train of familiar friends only,
as if he was returning from a journey of pleasure, not from his
conquests, they came pouring out to display their affection for him,
attending and conducting him to Rome with far greater forces than he
disbanded; insomuch that if he had designed any movement or innovation
in the State, he might have done it without his army.
Now, because the law permitted no commander to enter into the city
before his triumph, he sent to the senate, entreating them as a favor
to him to prorogue the election of consuls, that thus he might be able
to attend and give countenance to Piso, one of the candidates. The
request was resisted by Cato, and met with a refusal. However, Pompey
could not but admire the liberty and boldness of speech which Cato
alone had dared to use in the maintenance of law and justice. He
therefore had a great desire to win him over, and purchase his
friendship at any rate; and to that end, Cato having two nieces, Pompey
asked for one in marriage for himself, the other for his son. But Cato
looked unfavorably on the proposal, regarding it as a design for
undermining his honesty, and in a manner bribing him by a family
alliance; much to the displeasure of his wife and sister, who were
indignant that he should reject a connection with Pompey the Great.
About that time Pompey having a design of setting up Afranius for the
consulship, gave a sum of money among the tribes for their votes, and
people came and received it in his own gardens a proceeding which, when
it came to be generally known, excited great disapprobation, that he
should thus for the sake of men who could not obtain the honor by their
own merits, make merchandise of an office which had been given to
himself as the highest reward of his services. "Now," said Cato to his
wife and sister, "had we contracted an alliance with Pompey, we had
been allied to this dishonor too;" and this they could not but
acknowledge, and allow his judgment of what was right and fitting to
have been wiser and better than theirs.
The splendor and magnificence of Pompey's triumph was such that though
it took up the space of two days, yet they were extremely straitened in
time, so that of what was prepared for that pageantry, there was as
much withdrawn as would have set out and adorned another triumph. In
the first place, there were tables carried, inscribed with the names
and titles of the nations over whom he triumphed, Pontus, Armenia,
Cappadocia, Paphlagonia, Media, Colchis, the Iberians, the Albanians,
Syria, Cilicia, and Mesopotamia, together with Phoenicia and Palestine,
Judaea, Arabia, and all the power of the pirates subdued by sea and
land. And in these different countries there appeared the capture of no
less than one thousand fortified places, nor much less than nine
hundred cities, together with eight hundred ships of the pirates, and
the foundation of thirty-nine towns. Besides, there was set forth in
these tables an account of all the tributes throughout the empire, and
how that before these conquests the revenue amounted but to fifty
millions, whereas from his acquisitions they had a revenue of
eighty-five millions; and that in present payment he was bringing into
the common treasury ready money, and gold and silver plate, and
ornaments, to the value of twenty thousand talents, over and above what
had been distributed among the soldiers, of whom he that had least had
fifteen hundred drachmas for his share. The prisoners of war that were
led in triumph, besides the chief pirates, were the son of Tigranes,
king of Armenia, with his wife and daughter; as also Zosime, wife of
king Tigranes himself, and Aristobulus, king of Judaea, the sister of
king Mithridates and her five sons, and some Scythian women. There were
likewise the hostages of the Albanians and Iberians, and of the king of
Commagene, besides a vast number of trophies, one for every battle in
which he was conqueror, either himself in person, or by his
lieutenants. But that which seemed to be his greatest glory, being one
which no other Roman ever attained to, was this, that he made his third
triumph over the third division of the world. For others among the
Romans had the honor of triumphing thrice, but his first triumph was
over Africa, his second, over Europe, and this last, over Asia; so that
he seemed in these three triumphs to have led the whole world captive.
As for his age, those who affect to make the parallel exact in all
things betwixt him and Alexander the Great, do not allow him to have
been quite thirty-four, whereas in truth at that time he was near
forty. And well had it been for him had he terminated his life at this
date, while he still enjoyed Alexander's fortune, since all his
aftertime served only either to bring him prosperity that made him
odious, or calamities too great to be retrieved. For that great
authority which he had gained in the city by his merits, he made use of
only in patronizing the iniquities of others, so that by advancing
their fortunes, he detracted from his own glory, till at last he was
overthrown even by the force and greatness of his own power. And as the
strongest citadel or fort in a town, when it is taken by an enemy, does
then afford the same strength to the foe, as it had done to friends
before; so Caesar, after Pompey's aid had made him strong enough to
defy his country, ruined and overthrew at last the power which had
availed him against the rest. The course of things was as follows.
Lucullus, when he returned out of Asia, where he had been treated with
insult by Pompey, was received by the senate with great honor, which
was yet increased when Pompey came home; to check whose ambition they
encouraged him to assume the administration of the government, whereas
he was now grown cold and disinclined to business, having given himself
over to the pleasures of ease and the enjoyment of a splendid fortune.
However, he began for the time to exert himself against Pompey,
attacked him sharply, and succeeded in having his own acts and decrees,
which were repealed by Pompey, reestablished, and with the assistance
of Cato, gained the superiority in the senate. Pompey having fallen
from his hopes in such an unworthy repulse, was forced to fly to the
tribunes of the people for refuge, and to attach himself to the young
men, among whom was Clodius, the vilest and most impudent wretch alive,
who took him about, and exposed him as a tool to the people, carrying
him up and down among the throngs in the market-place, to countenance
those laws and speeches which he made to cajole the people and
ingratiate himself. And at last for his reward, he demanded of Pompey,
as if he had not disgraced, but done him great kindness, that he should
forsake (as in the end he did forsake) Cicero, his friend, who on many
public occasions had done him the greatest service. And so when Cicero
was in danger, and implored his aid, he would not admit him into his
presence, but shutting up his gates against those that came to mediate
for him, slips out at a back door, whereupon Cicero fearing the result
of his trial, departed privately from Rome.
About that time Caesar, returning from military service, started a
course of policy which brought him great present favor, and much
increased his power for the future, and proved extremely destructive
both to Pompey and the commonwealth. For now he stood candidate for his
first consulship, and well observing the enmity betwixt Pompey and
Crassus, and finding that by joining with one he should make the other
his enemy, he endeavored by all means to reconcile them, an object in
itself honorable and tending to the public good, but as he undertook
it, a mischievous and subtle intrigue. For he well knew that opposite
parties or factions in a commonwealth, like passengers in a boat, serve
to trim and balance the unready motions of power there; whereas if they
combine and come all over to one side, they cause a shock which will be
sure to overset the vessel and carry down everything. And therefore
Cato wisely told those who charged all the calamities of Rome upon the
disagreement betwixt Pompey and Caesar, that they were in error in
charging all the crime upon the last cause; for it was not their
discord and enmity, but their unanimity and I friendship, that gave the
first and greatest blow to the commonwealth.
Caesar being thus elected consul, began at once to make an interest
with the poor and meaner sort, by preferring and establishing laws for
planting colonies and dividing lands, lowering the dignity of his
office, and turning his consulship into a sort of tribuneship rather.
And when Bibulus, his colleague, opposed him, and Cato was prepared to
second Bibulus, and assist him vigorously, Caesar brought Pompey upon
the hustings, and addressing him in the sight of the people, demanded
his opinion upon the laws that were proposed. Pompey gave his
approbation. "Then," said Caesar, "in case any man should offer
violence to these laws, will you be reedy to give assistance to the
people?" "Yes," replied Pompey, "I shall be ready, and against those
that threaten the sword, I will appear with sword and buckler." Nothing
ever was said or done by Pompey up to that day, that seemed more
insolent or overbearing; so that his friends endeavored to apologize
for it as a word spoken inadvertently; but by his actions afterwards it
appeared plainly that he was totally devoted to Caesar's service. For
on a sudden, contrary to all expectation, he married Julia, the
daughter of Caesar, who had been affianced before and was to be married
within a few days to Caepio. And to appease Caepio's wrath, he gave him
his own daughter in marriage, who had been espoused before to Faustus,
the son of Sylla. Caesar himself married Calpurnia, the daughter of
Piso.
Upon this Pompey, filling the city with soldiers, carried all things by
force as he pleased. As Bibulus, the consul, was going to the forum,
accompanied by Lucullus and Cato, they fell upon him on a sudden and
broke his rods; and somebody threw a vessel of ordure upon the head of
Bibulus himself; and two tribunes of the people, who escorted him, were
desperately wounded in the fray. And thus having cleared the forum of
all their adversaries, they got their bill for the division of lands
established and passed into an act; and not only so, but the whole
populace being taken with this bait, became totally at their devotion,
inquiring into nothing and without a word giving their suffrages to
whatever they propounded. Thus they confirmed all those acts and
decrees of Pompey, which were questioned and contested by Lucullus; and
to Caesar they granted the provinces of Gaul, both within and without
the Alps, together with Illyricum, for five years, and likewise an army
of four entire legions; then they created consuls for the year ensuing,
Piso, the father-in-law of Caesar, and Gabinius, the most extravagant
of Pompey's flatterers.
During all these transactions, Bibulus kept close within doors, nor did
he appear publicly in person for the space of eight months together,
notwithstanding he was consul, but sent out proclamations full of
bitter invectives and accusations against them both. Cato turned
prophet, and, as if he had been possessed with a spirit of divination,
did nothing else in the senate but foretell what evils should befall
the Commonwealth and Pompey. Lucullus pleaded old age, and retired to
take his ease, as superannuated for affairs of State; which gave
occasion to the saying of Pompey, that the fatigues of luxury were not
more seasonable for an old man than those of government. Which in truth
proved a reflection upon himself; for he not long after let his
fondness for his young wife seduce him also into effeminate habits. He
gave all his time to her, and passed his days in her company in
country-houses and gardens, paying no heed to what was going on in the
forum. Insomuch that Clodius, who was then tribune of the people, began
to despise him, and engage in the most audacious attempts. For when he
had banished Cicero, and sent away Cato into Cyprus under pretence of
military duty, and when Caesar was gone upon his expedition to Gaul,
finding the populace now looking to him as the leader who did
everything according to their pleasure, he attempted forthwith to
repeal some of Pompey's decrees; he took Tigranes, the captive, out of
prison, and kept him about him as his companion; and commenced actions
against several of Pompey's friends, thus designing to try the extent
of his power. At last, upon a time when Pompey was present at the
hearing of a certain cause, Clodius, accompanied with a crowd of
profligate and impudent ruffians, standing up in a place above the
rest, put questions to the populace as follows: "Who is the dissolute
general? who is the man that seeks another man? who scratches his head
with one finger?" and the rabble, upon the signal of his shaking his
gown, with a great shout to every question, like singers making,
responses in a chorus, made answer, "Pompey."
This indeed was no small annoyance to Pompey, who was quite
unaccustomed to hear anything ill of himself, and unexperienced
altogether in such encounters; and he was yet more vexed, when he saw
that the senate rejoiced at this foul usage, and regarded it as a just
punishment upon him for his treachery to Cicero. But when it came even
to blows and wounds in the forum, and that one of Clodius's bondslaves
was apprehended, creeping through the crowd towards Pompey with a sword
in his hand, Pompey laid hold of this pretence, though perhaps
otherwise apprehensive of Clodius's insolence and bad language, and
never appeared again in the forum during all the time he was tribune,
but kept close at home, and passed his time in consulting with his
friends, by what means he might best allay the displeasure of the
senate and nobles against him. Among other expedients, Culleo advised
the divorce of Julia, and to abandon Caesar's friendship to gain that
of the senate; this he would not hearken to. Others again advised him
to call home Cicero from banishment, a man who was always the great
adversary of Clodius, and as great a favorite of the senate; to this he
was easily persuaded. And therefore he brought Cicero's brother into
the forum, attended with a strong party, to petition for his return;
where, after a warm dispute, in which several were wounded and some
slain, he got the victory over Clodius. No sooner was Cicero returned
home upon this decree, but immediately he used his efforts to reconcile
the senate to Pompey; and by speaking in favor of the law upon the
importation of corn, did again, in effect, make Pompey sovereign lord
of all the Roman possessions by sea and land. For by that law, there
were placed under his control all ports, markets, and storehouses, and
in short, all the concerns both of the merchants and the husbandmen;
which gave occasion to the charge brought against it by Clodius, that
the law was not made because of the scarcity of corn, but the scarcity
of corn was made, that they might pass a law, whereby that power of
his, which was now grown feeble and consumptive, might be revived
again, and Pompey reinstated in a new empire. Others look upon it as a
politic device of Spinther, the consul, whose design it was to secure
Pompey in a greater authority, that he himself might be sent in
assistance to king Ptolemy. However, it is certain that Canidius, the
tribune, preferred a law to dispatch Pompey in the character of an
ambassador, without an army, attended only with two lictors, as a
mediator betwixt the king and his subjects of Alexandria. Neither did
this proposal seem unacceptable to Pompey, though the senate cast it
out upon the specious pretence, that they were unwilling to hazard his
person. However, there were found several writings scattered about the
forum and near the senate-house, intimating how grateful it would be to
Ptolemy to have Pompey appointed for his general instead of Spinther.
And Timagenes even asserts that Ptolemy went away and left Egypt, not
out of necessity, but purely upon the persuasion of Theophanes, who was
anxious to give Pompey the opportunity for holding a new command, and
gaining further wealth. But Theophanes's want of honesty does not go so
far to make this story credible as does Pompey's own nature, which was
averse, with all its ambition, to such base and disingenuous acts, to
render it improbable.
Thus Pompey being appointed chief purveyor, and having within his
administration and management all the corn trade, sent abroad his
factors and agents into all quarters, and he himself sailing into
Sicily, Sardinia, and Africa, collected vast stores of corn. He was
just ready to set sail upon his voyage home, when a great storm arose
upon the sea, and the ships' commanders doubted whether it were safe.
Upon which Pompey himself went first aboard, and bid the mariners weigh
anchor, declaring with a loud voice, that there was a necessity to
sail, but no necessity to live. So that with this spirit and courage,
and having met with favorable fortune, he made a prosperous return, and
filled the markets with corn, and the sea with ships. So much so that
this great plenty and abundance of provisions yielded a sufficient
supply, not only to the city of Rome, but even to other places too,
dispersing itself; like waters from a spring, into all quarters.
Meantime Caesar grew great and famous with his wars in Gaul, and while
in appearance he seemed far distant from Rome, entangled in the affairs
of the Belgians, Suevians, and Britons, in truth he was working
craftily by secret practices in the midst of the people, and
countermining Pompey in all political matters of most importance. He
himself with his army close about him, as if it had been his own body,
not with mere views of conquest over the barbarians, but as though his
contests with them were but mere sports and exercises of the chase, did
his utmost with this training and discipline to make it invincible and
alarming. And in the meantime his gold and silver and other spoils and
treasure which he took from the enemy in his conquests, he sent to Rome
in presents, tempting people with his gifts, and aiding aediles,
praetors, and consuls, as also their wives, in their expenses, and thus
purchasing himself numerous friends. Insomuch, that when he passed back
again over the Alps, and took up his winter quarters in the city of
Luca, there flocked to him an infinite number of men and women,
striving who should get first to him, two hundred senators included,
among whom were Pompey and Crassus; so that there were to be seen at
once before Caesar's door no less than six score rods of proconsuls and
praetors. The rest of his addressers he sent all away full fraught with
hopes and money; but with Crassus and Pompey, he entered into special
articles of agreement, that they should stand candidates for the
consulship next year; that Caesar on his part should send a number of
his soldiers to give their votes at the election; that as soon as they
were elected, they should use their interest to have the command of
some provinces and legions assigned to themselves, and that Caesar
should have his present charge confirmed to him for five years more.
When these arrangements came to be generally known, great indignation
was excited among the chief men in Rome; and Marcellinus, in an open
assembly of the people, demanded of them both, whether they designed to
sue for the consulship or no. And being urged by the people for their
answer, Pompey spoke first, and told them, perhaps he would sue for it,
perhaps he would not. Crassus was more temperate, and said, that he
would do what should be judged most agreeable with the interest of the
Commonwealth; and when Marcellinus persisted in his attack on Pompey,
and spoke, as it was thought, with some vehemence, Pompey remarked that
Marcellinus was certainly the unfairest of men, to show him no
gratitude for having thus made him an orator out of a mute, and
converted him from a hungry starveling into a man so full-fed that he
could not contain himself.
Most of the candidates nevertheless abandoned their canvass for the
consulship; Cato alone persuaded and encouraged Lucius Domitius not to
desist, "since," said he, "the contest now is not for office, but for
liberty against tyrants and usurpers." Therefore those of Pompey's
party, fearing this inflexible constancy in Cato, by which he kept with
him the whole senate, lest by this he should likewise pervert and draw
after him all the well-affected part of the commonalty, resolved to
withstand Domitius at once, and to prevent his entrance into the forum.
To this end, therefore, they sent in a band of armed men, who slew the
torchbearer of Domitius, as he was leading the way before him, and put
all the rest to flight; last of all, Cato himself retired, having
received a wound in his right arm while defending Domitius. Thus by
these means and practices they obtained the consulship; neither did
they behave themselves with more decency in their further proceedings;
but in the first place, when the people were choosing Cato praetor, and
just ready with their votes for the poll, Pompey broke up the assembly,
upon a pretext of some inauspicious appearance, and having gained the
tribes by money, they publicly proclaimed Vatinius praetor. Then, in
pursuance of their covenants with Caesar, they introduced several laws
by Trebonius, the tribune, continuing Caesar's commission to another
five years' charge of his province; to Crassus there were appointed
Syria, and the Parthian war; and to Pompey himself, all Africa,
together with both Spains, and four legions of soldiers, two of which
he lent to Caesar upon his request, for the wars in Gaul.
Crassus, upon the expiration of his consulship, departed forthwith into
his province; but Pompey spent some time in Rome, upon the opening or
dedication of his theater, where he treated the people with all sorts
of games, shows, and exercises, in gymnastics alike and in music. There
was likewise the hunting or baiting of wild beasts, and combats with
them, in which five hundred lions were slain; but above all, the battle
of elephants was a spectacle full of horror and amazement.
These entertainments brought him great honor and popularity; but on the
other side he created no less envy to himself, in that he committed the
government of his provinces and legions into the hands of friends as
his lieutenants, whilst he himself was going about and spending his
time with his wife in all the places of amusement in Italy; whether it
were he was so fond of her himself, or she so fond of him, and he
unable to distress her by going away, for this also is stated. And the
love displayed by this young wife for her elderly husband was a matter
of general note, to be attributed, it would seem, to his constancy in
married life, and to his dignity of manner, which in familiar
intercourse was tempered with grace and gentleness, and was
particularly attractive to women, as even Flora, the courtesan, may be
thought good enough evidence to prove. It once happened in a public
assembly, as they were at an election of the aediles, that the people
came to blows, and several about Pompey were slain, so that he, finding
himself all bloody, ordered a change of apparel; but the servants who
brought home his clothes, making a great bustle and hurry about the
house, it chanced that the young lady, who was then with child, saw his
gown all stained with blood; upon which she dropped immediately into a
swoon, and was hardly brought to life again; however, what with her
fright and suffering, she fell into labor and miscarried; even those
who chiefly censured Pompey for his friendship to Caesar, could not
reprove him for his affection to so attached a wife. Afterwards she was
great again, and brought to bed of a daughter, but died in childbed;
neither did the infant outlive her mother many days. Pompey had
prepared all things for the interment of her corpse at his house near
Alba, but the people seized upon it by force, and performed the
solemnities in the field of Mars, rather in compassion for the young
lady, than in favor either for Pompey or Caesar; and yet of these two,
the people seemed at that time to pay Caesar a greater share of honor
in his absence, than to Pompey, though he was present.
For the city now at once began to roll and swell, so to say, with the
stir of the coming storm. Things everywhere were in a state of
agitation, and everybody's discourse tended to division, now that death
had put an end to that relation which hitherto had been a disguise
rather than restraint to the ambition of these men. Besides, not long
after came messengers from Parthia with intelligence of the death of
Crassus there, by which another safeguard against civil war was
removed, since both Caesar and Pompey kept their eyes on Crassus, and
awe of him held them together more or less within the bounds of
fair-dealing all his lifetime. But when fortune had taken away this
second, whose province it might have been to revenge the quarrel of the
conquered, you might then say with the comic poet,
The combatants are waiting to begin,
Smearing their hands with dust and oiling each his skin.
So inconsiderable a thing is fortune in respect of human nature, and so
insufficient to give content to a covetous mind, that an empire of that
mighty extent and sway could not satisfy the ambition of two men; and
though they knew and had read, that
The gods, when they divided out 'twixt three,
This massive universe, heaven, hell, and sea,
Each one sat down contented on his throne,
And undisturbed each god enjoys his own,
yet they thought the whole Roman empire not sufficient to contain them,
though they were but two.
Pompey once in an oration to the people, told them, that he had always
come into office before he expected he should, and that he had always
left it sooner than they expected he would; and, indeed, the disbanding
of all his armies witnessed as much. Yet when he perceived that Caesar
would not so willingly discharge his forces, he endeavored to
strengthen himself against him by offices and commands in the city; but
beyond this he showed no desire for any change, and would not seem to
distrust, but rather to disregard and contemn him. And when he saw how
they bestowed the places of government quite contrary to his wishes,
because the citizens were bribed in their elections, he let things take
their course, and allowed the city to be left without any government at
all. Hereupon there was mention straightaway made of appointing a
dictator. Lucilius, a tribune of the people, was the man who first
adventured to propose it, urging the people to make Pompey dictator.
But the tribune was in danger of being turned out of his office, by the
opposition that Cato made against it. And for Pompey, many of his
friends appeared and excused him, alleging that he never was desirous
of that government, neither would he accept of it. And when Cato
therefore made a speech in commendation of Pompey, and exhorted him to
support the cause of good order in the Commonwealth, he could not for
shame but yield to it, and so for the present Domitius and Messala were
elected consuls. But shortly afterwards, when there was another
anarchy, or vacancy in the government, and the talk of a dictator was
much louder and more general than before, those of Cato's party,
fearing lest they should be forced to appoint Pompey, thought it policy
to keep him from that arbitrary and tyrannical power, by giving him an
office of more legal authority. Bibulus himself, who was Pompey's
enemy, first gave his vote in the senate, that Pompey should be created
consul alone; alleging, that by these means either the Commonwealth
would be freed from its present confusion, or that its bondage should
be lessened by serving the worthiest. This was looked upon as a very
strange opinion, considering the man that spoke it; and therefore on
Cato's standing up, everybody expected that he would have opposed it;
but after silence made, he said that he would never have been the
author of that advice himself, but since it was propounded by another,
his advice was to follow it, adding, that any form of government was
better than none at all; and that in a time so full of distraction, he
thought no man fitter to govern than Pompey. This counsel was
unanimously approved of, and a decree passed that Pompey should be made
sole consul, with this clause, that if he thought it necessary to have
a colleague, he might choose whom he pleased, provided it were not till
after two months expired.
Thus was Pompey created and declared sole consul by Sulpicius, regent
in this vacancy; upon which he made very cordial acknowledgments to
Cato, professing himself much his debtor, and requesting his good
advice in conducting the government; to this Cato replied, that Pompey
had no reason to thank him, for all that he had said was for the
service of the commonwealth, not of Pompey; but that he would be always
ready to give his advice privately, if he were asked for it; and if
not, he should not fail to say what he thought in public. Such was
Cato's conduct on all occasions.
On his return into the city Pompey married Cornelia, the daughter of
Metellus Scipio, not a maiden, but lately left a widow by Publius, the
son of Crassus, her first husband, who had been killed in Parthia. The
young lady had other attractions besides those of youth and beauty; for
she was highly educated, played well upon the lute, understood
geometry, and had been accustomed to listen with profit to lectures on
philosophy; all this, too, without in any degree becoming unamiable or
pretentious, as sometimes young women do when they pursue such studies.
Nor could any fault be found either with her father's family or
reputation. The disparity of their ages was however not liked by
everybody; Cornelia being in this respect a fitter match for Pompey's
son. And wiser judges thought it rather a slight upon the commonwealth
when he, to whom alone they had committed their broken fortunes, and
from whom alone, as from their physician, they expected a cure to these
distractions, went about crowned with garlands and celebrating his
nuptial feasts; never considering, that his very consulship was a
public calamity, which would never have been given him, contrary to the
rules of law, had his country been in a flourishing state. Afterwards,
however, he took cognizance of the cases of those that had obtained
offices by gifts and bribery, and enacted laws and ordinances, setting
forth the rules of judgment by which they should be arraigned; and
regulating all things with gravity and justice, he restored security,
order, and silence to their courts of judicature, himself giving his
presence there with a band of soldiers. But when his father-in-law
Scipio was accused, he sent for the three hundred and sixty judges to
his house, and entreated them to be favorable to him; whereupon his
accuser, seeing Scipio come into the court, accompanied by the judges
themselves, withdrew the prosecution. Upon this Pompey was very ill
spoken of, and much worse in the case of Plancus; for whereas he
himself had made a law, putting a stop to the practice of making
speeches in praise of persons under trial, yet notwithstanding this
prohibition, he came into court, and spoke openly in commendation of
Plancus, insomuch that Cato, who happened to be one of the judges at
that time, stopping his ears with his hands, told him, he could not in
conscience listen to commendations contrary to law. Cato upon this was
refused, and set aside from being a judge, before sentence was given,
but Plancus was condemned by the rest of the judges, to Pompey's
dishonor. Shortly after, Hypsaeus, a man of consular dignity, who was
under accusation, waited for Pompey's return from his bath to his
supper, and falling down at his feet, implored his favor; but he
disdainfully passed him by, saying, that he did nothing else but spoil
his supper. Such partiality was looked upon as a great fault in Pompey,
and highly condemned; however, he managed all things else discreetly,
and having put the government in very good order, he chose his
father-in-law to be his colleague in the consulship for the last five
months. His provinces were continued to him for the term of four years
longer, with a commission to take one thousand talents yearly out of
the treasury for the payment of his army.
This gave occasion to some of Caesar's friends to think it reasonable,
that some consideration should be had of him too, who had done such
signal services in war, and fought so many battles for the empire,
alleging, that he deserved at least a second consulship, or to have the
government of his province continued, that so he might command and
enjoy in peace what he had obtained in war, and no successor come in to
reap the fruits of his labor, and carry off the glory of his actions.
There arising some debate about this matter, Pompey took upon him, as
it were out of kindness to Caesar, to plead his cause, and allay any
jealousy that was conceived against him, telling them, that he had
letters from Caesar, expressing his desire for a successor, and his own
discharge from the command; but it would be only right that they should
give him leave to stand for the consulship though in his absence. But
those of Cato's party withstood this, saying, that if he expected any
favor from the citizens, he ought to leave his army, and come in a
private capacity to canvas for it. And Pompey's making no rejoinder,
but letting it pass as a matter in which he was overruled, increased
the suspicion of his real feelings towards Caesar. Presently, also,
under presence of a war with Parthia, he sent for his two legions which
he had lent him. However, Caesar, though he well knew why they were
asked for, sent them home very liberally rewarded.
About that time Pompey recovered of a dangerous fit of sickness which
seized him at Naples, where the whole city, upon the suggestion of
Praxagoras, made sacrifices of thanksgiving to the gods for his
recovery. The neighboring towns likewise happening to follow their
example, the thing then went its course throughout all Italy, so that
there was not a city either great or small, that did not feast and
rejoice for many days together. And the company of those that came from
all parts to meet him was so numerous, that no place was able to
contain them, but the villages, seaport towns, and the very highways,
were all full of people, feasting and sacrificing to the gods. Nay,
many went to meet him with garlands on their heads, and flambeaux in
their hands, casting flowers and nosegays upon him as he went along; so
that this progress of his, and reception, was one of the noblest and
most glorious sights imaginable. And yet it is thought that this very
thing was not one of the least causes and occasions of the civil war.
For Pompey, yielding to a feeling of exultation, which in the greatness
of the present display of joy lost sight of more solid grounds of
consideration, and abandoning that prudent temper which had guided him
hitherto to a safe use of all his good fortune and his successes, gave
himself up to an extravagant confidence in his own, and contempt of
Caesar's power; insomuch that he thought neither force of arms nor care
necessary against him, but that he could pull him down much easier than
he had set him up. Besides this, Appius, under whose command those
legions which Pompey lent to Caesar were returned, coming lately out of
Gaul, spoke slightingly of Caesar's actions there, and spread
scandalous reports about him, at the same time telling Pompey, that he
was unacquainted with his own strength and reputation, if he made use
of any other forces against Caesar than Caesar's own; for such was the
soldiers' hatred to Caesar, and their love to Pompey so great, that
they would all come over to him upon his first appearance. By these
flatteries Pompey was so puffed up, and led on into such a careless
security, that he could not choose but laugh at those who seemed to
fear a war; and when some were saying, that if Caesar should march
against the city, they could not see what forces there were to resist
him, he replied with a smile, bidding them be in no concern, "for,"
said he, "whenever I stamp with my foot in any part of Italy, there
will rise up forces enough in an instant, both horse and foot."
Caesar, on the other side, was more and more vigorous in his
proceedings, himself always at hand about the frontiers of Italy, and
sending his soldiers continually into the city to attend all elections
with their votes. Besides, he corrupted several of the magistrates, and
kept them in his pay; among others, Paulus, the consul, who was brought
over by a bribe of one thousand and five hundred talents; and Curio,
tribune of the people, by a discharge of the debts with which he was
overwhelmed; together with Mark Antony, who, out of friendship to
Curio, had become bound with him in the same obligations for them all.
And it was stated as a fact, that a centurion of Caesar's waiting at
the senate-house, and hearing that the senate refused to give him a
longer term of his government, clapped his hand upon his sword, and
said, "But this shall give it." And indeed all his practices and
preparations seemed to bear this appearance. Curio's demands, however,
and requests in favor of Caesar, were more popular in appearance; for
he desired one of these two things, either that Pompey also should be
called upon to resign his army, or that Caesar's should not be taken
away from him; for if both of them became private persons, both would
be satisfied with simple justice; or if both retained their present
power, each being a match for the other, they would be contented with
what they already had; but he that weakens one, does at the same time
strengthen the other, and so doubles that very strength and power which
he stood in fear of before. Marcellus, the consul, replied nothing to
all this, but that Caesar was a robber, and should be proclaimed an
enemy to the state, if he did not disband his army. However, Curio,
with the assistance of Antony and Piso, prevailed, that the matter in
debate should be put to the question, and decided by vote in the
senate. So that it being ordered upon the question for those to
withdraw, who were of opinion that Caesar only should lay down his army
and Pompey command, the majority withdrew. But when it was ordered
again for those to withdraw, whose vote was that both should lay down
their arms and neither command, there were but twenty-two for Pompey,
all the rest remained on Curio's side. Whereupon he, as one proud of
his conquest, leaped out in triumph among the people, who received him
with as great tokens of joy, clapping their hands, and crowning him
with garlands and flowers. Pompey was not then present in the senate,
because it is not lawful for generals in command of an army to come
into the city. But Marcellus rising up, said, that he would not sit
there hearing speeches, when he saw ten legions already passing the
Alps on their march toward the city, but on his own authority would
send someone to oppose them in defense of the country.
Upon this the city went into mourning, as in a public calamity, and
Marcellus, accompanied by the senate, went solemnly through the forum
to meet Pompey, and made him this address. "I hereby give you orders, O
Pompey, to defend your country, to employ the troops you now command,
and to levy more." Lentulus, consul elect for the year following, spoke
to the same purpose. Antony, however, contrary to the will of the
senate, having in a public assembly read a letter of Caesar's,
containing various plausible overtures such as were likely to gain the
common people, proposing, namely, that both Pompey and he quitting
their governments, and dismissing their armies, should submit to the
judgment of the people, and give an account of their actions before
them, the consequence was that when Pompey began to make his levies, he
found himself disappointed in his expectations. Some few, indeed, came
in, but those very unwillingly; others would not answer to their names,
and the generality cried out for peace. Lentulus, notwithstanding he
was now entered upon his consulship, would not assemble the senate; but
Cicero, who was lately returned from Cilicia, labored for a
reconciliation, proposing that Caesar should leave his province of Gaul
and army, reserving two legions only, together with the government of
Illyricum, and should thus be put in nomination for a second
consulship. Pompey disliking this motion, Caesar's friends were
contented that he should surrender one of the two; but Lentulus still
opposing, and Cato crying out that Pompey did ill to be deceived again,
the reconciliation did not take effect.
In the meantime, news was brought that Caesar had occupied Ariminum, a
great city in Italy, and was marching directly towards Rome with all
his forces. But this latter was altogether false, for he had no more
with him at that time than three hundred horse and five thousand foot;
and he did not mean to tarry for the body of his army, which lay beyond
the Alps, choosing rather to fall in on a sudden upon his enemies,
while they were in confusion, and did not expect him, than to give them
time, and fight them after they had made preparations. For when he came
to the banks of the Rubicon, a river that made the bounds of his
province, there he made a halt, pausing a little, and considering, we
may suppose, with himself the greatness of the enterprise which he had
undertaken; then, at last, like men that are throwing themselves
headlong from some precipice into a vast abyss, having shut, as it
were, his mind's eyes and put away from his sight the idea of danger,
he merely uttered to those near him in Greek the words, "Anerriphtho
kubos," (let the die be cast,) and led his army through it. No sooner
was the news arrived, but there was an uproar throughout all the city,
and a consternation in the people even to astonishment, such as never
was known in Rome before; all the senate ran immediately to Pompey, and
the magistrates followed. And when Tullus made inquiry about his
legions and forces, Pompey seemed to pause a little, and answered with
some hesitation, that he had those two legions ready that Caesar sent
back, and that out of the men who had been previously enrolled he
believed he could shortly make up a body of thirty thousand men. On
which Tullus crying out aloud, "O Pompey, you have deceived us," gave
his advice to send off a deputation to Caesar. Favonius, a man of fair
character, except that he used to suppose his own petulance and abusive
talking a copy of Cato's straight-forwardness, bade Pompey stamp upon
the ground, and call forth the forces he had promised. But Pompey bore
patiently with this unseasonable raillery; and on Cato putting him in
mind of what he had foretold from the very beginning about Caesar, made
this answer only, that Cato indeed had spoken more like a prophet, but
he had acted more like a friend. Cato then advised them to choose
Pompey general with absolute power and authority, saying that the same
men who do great evils, know best how to cure them. He himself went his
way forthwith into Sicily, the province that was allotted him, and all
the rest of the senators likewise departed every one to his respective
government.
Thus all Italy in a manner being up in arms, no one could say what was
best to be done. For those that were without, came from all parts
flocking into the city; and they who were within, seeing the confusion
and disorder so great there, all good things impotent, and disobedience
and insubordination grown too strong to be controlled by the
magistrates, were quitting it as fast as the others came in. Nay, it
was so far from being possible to allay their fears, that they would
not suffer Pompey to follow out his own judgment, but every man pressed
and urged him according to his particular fancy, whether it proceeded
from doubt, fear, grief, or any meaner passion; so that even in the
same day quite contrary counsels were acted upon. Then, again, it was
as impossible to have any good intelligence of the enemy; for what each
man heard by chance upon a flying rumor, he would report for truth, and
exclaim against Pompey if he did not believe it. Pompey, at length,
seeing such a confusion in Rome, determined with himself to put an end
to their clamors by his departure, and therefore commanding all the
senate to follow him, and declaring, that whosoever tarried behind,
should be judged a confederate of Caesar's, about the dusk of the
evening he went out and left the city. The consuls also followed after
in a hurry, without offering the sacrifices to the gods, usual before a
war. But in all this, Pompey himself had the glory, that in the midst
of such calamities, he had so much of men's love and good-will. For
though many found fault with the conduct of the war, yet no man hated
the general; and there were more to be found of those that went out of
Rome, because that they could not forsake Pompey, than of those that
fled for love of liberty.
Some few days after Pompey was gone out, Caesar came into the city, and
made himself master of it, treating everyone with a great deal of
courtesy, and appeasing their fears, except only Metellus, one of the
tribunes; on whose refusing to let him take any money out of the
treasury, Caesar threatened him with death, adding words yet harsher
than the threat, that it was far easier for him to do it than say it.
By this means removing Metellus, and taking what moneys were of use for
his occasions, he set forwards in pursuit of Pompey, endeavoring with
all speed to drive him out of Italy before his army, that was in Spain,
could join him.
But Pompey arriving at Brundusium, and having plenty of ships there,
bade the two consuls embark immediately, and with them shipped thirty
cohorts of foot, bound before him for Dyrrhachium. He sent likewise his
father-in-law Scipio, and Cnaeus his son, into Syria, to provide and
fit out a fleet there; himself in the meantime having blocked up the
gates, placed his lightest soldiers as guards upon the walls; and
giving express orders that the citizens should keep within doors, he
dug up all the ground inside the city, cutting trenches, and fixing
stakes and palisades throughout all the streets of the city, except
only two that led down to the sea-side. Thus in three days space having
with ease put all the rest of his army on shipboard, he suddenly gave
the signal to those that guarded the walls, who nimbly repairing to the
ships, were received on board and carried off. Caesar meantime
perceiving their departure by seeing the walls unguarded, hastened
after, and in the heat of pursuit was all but entangled himself among
the stakes and trenches. But the Brundusians discovering the danger to
him, and showing him the way, he wheeled about, and taking a circuit
round the city, made towards the haven, where he found all the ships on
their way, excepting only two vessels that had but a few soldiers
aboard.
Most are of opinion, that this departure of Pompey's is to be counted
among the best of his military performances, but Caesar himself could
not but wonder that he, who was thus ingarrisoned in a city well
fortified, who was in expectation of his forces from Spain, and was
master of the sea besides, should leave and abandon Italy. Cicero
accuses him of imitating the conduct of Themistocles, rather than of
Pericles, when the circumstances were more like those of Pericles than
they were like those of Themistocles. However, it appeared plainly, and
Caesar showed it by his actions, that he was in great fear of delay,
for when he had taken Numerius, a friend of Pompey's, prisoner, he sent
him as an ambassador to Brundusium, with offers of peace and
reconciliation upon equal terms; but Numerius sailed away with Pompey.
And now Caesar having become master of all Italy in sixty days, without
a drop of blood shed, had a great desire forthwith to follow Pompey;
but being destitute of shipping, he was forced to divert his course,
and march into Spain, designing to bring over Pompey's forces there to
his own.
In the meantime Pompey raised a mighty army both by sea and land. As
for his navy, it was irresistible. For there were five hundred men of
war, besides an infinite company of light vessels, Liburnians, and
others; and for his land forces, the cavalry made up a body of seven
thousand horse, the very flower of Rome and Italy, men of family,
wealth, and high spirit; but the infantry was a mixture of
unexperienced soldiers drawn from different quarters, and these he
exercised and trained near Beroea, where he quartered his army; himself
noways slothful, but performing all his exercises as if he had been in
the flower of his youth, conduct which raised the spirits of his
soldiers extremely. For it was no small encouragement for them to see
Pompey the Great, sixty years of age wanting two, at one time handling
his arms among the foot, then again mounted among the horse, drawing
out his sword with ease in full career, and sheathing it up as easily;
and in darting the javelin, showing not only skill and dexterity in
hitting the mark, but also strength and activity in throwing it so far
that few of the young men went beyond him.
Several kings and princes of nations came thither to him, and there was
a concourse of Roman citizens who had held the magistracies, so
numerous that they made up a complete senate. Labienus forsook his old
friend Caesar, whom he had served throughout all his wars in Gaul, and
came over to Pompey; and Brutus, son to that Brutus that was put to
death in Gaul, a man of a high spirit, and one that to that day had
never so much as saluted or spoke to Pompey, looking upon him as the
murderer of his father, came then and submitted himself to him as the
defender of their liberty. Cicero likewise, though he had written and
advised otherwise, yet was ashamed not to be accounted in the number of
those that would hazard their lives and fortunes for the safeguard of
their country. There came to him also into Macedonia, Tidius Sextius, a
man extremely old, and lame of one leg; so that others indeed mocked
and laughed at the spectacle, but Pompey, as soon as he saw him, rose
and ran to meet him, esteeming it no small testimony in his favor, when
men of such age and infirmities should rather choose to be with him in
danger, than in safety at home. Afterwards in a meeting of their senate
they passed a decree, on the motion of Cato, that no Roman citizen
should be put to death but in battle, and that they should not sack or
plunder any city that was subject to the Roman empire, a resolution
which gained Pompey's party still greater reputation, insomuch that
those who were noways at all concerned in the war, either because they
dwelt afar off, or were thought incapable of giving help, were yet, in
their good wishes, upon his side, and in all their words, so far as
that went, supported the good or just cause, as they called it;
esteeming those as enemies to the gods and men, that wished not victory
to Pompey.
Neither was Pompey's clemency such, but that Caesar likewise showed
himself as merciful a conqueror; for when he had taken and overthrown
all Pompey's forces in Spain, he gave them easy terms, leaving the
commanders at their liberty, and taking the common soldiers into his
own pay. Then repassing the Alps, and making a running march through
Italy, he came to Brundusium about the winter solstice, and crossing
the sea there, landed at the port of Oricum. And having Jubius, an
intimate friend of Pompey's, with him as his prisoner, he dispatched
him to Pompey with an invitation, that they, meeting together in a
conference, should disband both their armies within three days, and
renewing their former friendship with solemn oaths, should return
together into Italy. Pompey looked upon this again as some new
stratagem, and therefore marching down in all haste to the sea-coast,
possessed himself of all forts and places of strength suitable to
encamp in, and to secure his laud forces, as likewise of all ports and
harbors commodious to receive any that came by sea, so that what wind
soever blew, it must needs in some way or other be favorable to him,
bringing in either provision, men, or money; while Caesar, on the
contrary, was so hemmed in both by sea and land, that he was forced to
desire battle, daily provoking the enemy, and assailing them in their
very forts; and in these light skirmishes for the most part had the
better. Once only he was dangerously overthrown, and was within a
little of losing his whole army, Pompey having fought nobly, routing
the whole force, and killing two thousand on the spot. But either he
was not able, or was afraid, to go on and force his way into their camp
with them, so that Caesar made the remark, that "Today the victory had
been the enemy's, had there been anyone among them to gain it."
Pompey's soldiers were so encouraged by this victory that they were
eager now to have all put to the decision of a battle; but Pompey
himself, though he wrote to distant kings, generals, and states in
confederacy with him, as a conqueror, yet was afraid to hazard the
success of a battle, choosing rather by delays, and distress of
provisions, to tire out a body of men, who had never yet been conquered
by force of arms, and had long been used to fight and conquer together;
while their time of life, now an advanced one, which made them quickly
weary of those other hardships of war, such as were long marches, and
frequent decampings, making trenches, and building fortifications, made
them eager to come to close combat and venture a battle with all speed.
Pompey had all along hitherto by his persuasions pretty well quieted
his soldiers; but after this last engagement, when Caesar for want of
provisions was forced to raise his camp, and passed through Athamania
into Thessaly, it was impossible to curb or allay the heat of their
spirits any longer. For all crying out with a general voice, that
Caesar was fled, some were for pursuing and pressing upon him, others
for returning into Italy; some there were that sent their friends and
servants beforehand to Rome, to hire houses near the forum, that they
might be in readiness to sue for offices; several of their own motion
sailed off at once to Lesbos to carry to Cornelia, (whom Pompey had
conveyed thither to be in safety,) the joyful news, that the war was
ended. And a senate being called, and the matter being under debate,
Afranius was of opinion, that Italy should first be regained, for that
it was the grand prize and crown of all the war; and they who were
masters of that, would quickly have at their devotion all the provinces
of Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, Spain, and Gaul; but what was of greatest
weight and moment to Pompey, it was his own native country that lay
near, reaching out her hand for his help; and certainly it could not be
consistent with his honor to leave her thus exposed to all indignities,
and in bondage under slaves and the flatterers of a tyrant. But Pompey
himself, on the contrary, thought it neither honorable to fly a second
time before Caesar, and be pursued, when fortune had given him the
advantage of a pursuit; nor indeed lawful before the gods to forsake
Scipio and divers other men of consular dignity dispersed throughout
Greece and Thessaly, who must necessarily fall into Caesar's hands,
together with large sums of money and numerous forces; and as to his
care for the city of Rome, that would most eminently appear, by
removing the scene of war to a greater distance, and leaving her,
without feeling the distress or even hearing the sound of these evils,
to await in peace the return of whichever should be the victor.
With this determination, Pompey marched forwards in pursuit of Caesar,
firmly resolved with himself not to give him battle, but rather to
besiege and distress him, by keeping close at his heels, and cutting
him short. There were other reasons that made him continue this
resolution, but especially because a saying that was current among the
Romans serving in the cavalry came to his ear, to the effect, that they
ought to beat Caesar as soon as possible, and then humble Pompey too.
And some report, it was for this reason that Pompey never employed Cato
in any matter of consequence during the whole war, but now when he
pursued Caesar, left him to guard his baggage by sea, fearing lest, if
Caesar should be taken off, he himself also by Cato's means not long
after should be forced to give up his power.
Whilst he was thus slowly attending the motions of the enemy, he was
exposed on all sides to outcries, and imputations of using his
generalship to defeat, not Caesar, but his country and the senate, that
he might always continue in authority, and never cease to keep those
for his guards and servants, who themselves claimed to govern the
world. Domitius Aenobarbus, continually calling him Agamemnon, and king
of kings, excited jealousy against him; and Favonius, by his
unseasonable raillery, did him no less injury than those who openly
attacked him, as when he cried out, "Good friends, you must not expect
to gather any figs in Tusculum this year." But Lucius Afranius, who had
lain under an imputation of treachery for the loss of the army in
Spain, when he saw Pompey purposely declining an engagement, declared
openly, that he could not but admire, why those who were so ready to
accuse him, did not go themselves and fight this buyer and seller of
their provinces.
With these and many such speeches they wrought upon Pompey, who never
could bear reproach, or resist the expectations of his friends; and
thus they forced him to break his measures, so that he forsook his own
prudent resolution to follow their vain hopes and desires: weakness
that would have been blamable ill the pilot of a ship, how much more in
the sovereign commander of such an army, and so many nations. But he,
though he had often commended those physicians who did not comply with
the capricious appetites of their patients, yet himself could not but
yield to the malady and disease of his companions and advisers in the
war, rather than use some severity in their cure. Truly who could have
said that health was not disordered and a cure not required in the case
of men who went up and down the camp, suing already for the consulship
and office of praetor, while Spinther, Domitius, and Scipio made
friends, raised factions, and quarrelled among themselves, who should
succeed Caesar in the dignity of his high-priesthood, esteeming all as
lightly, as if they were to engage only with Tigranes, king of Armenia,
or some petty Nabathaean king, not with that Caesar and his army that
had stormed a thousand towns, and subdued more than three hundred
several nations; that had fought innumerable battles with the Germans
and Gauls, and always carried the victory; that had taken a million of
men prisoners, and slain as many upon the spot in pitched battles?
But they went on soliciting and clamoring, and on reaching the plain of
Pharsalia, they forced Pompey by their pressure and importunities to
call a council of war, where Labienus, general of the horse, stood up
first and swore that he would not return out of the battle if he did
not rout the enemies; and a]l the rest took the same oath. That night
Pompey dreamed that as he went into the theater, the people received
him with great applause, and that he himself adorned the temple of
Venus the Victorious, with many spoils. This vision partly encouraged,
but partly also disheartened him, fearing lest that splendor and
ornament to Venus should be made with spoils furnished by himself to
Caesar, who derived his family from that goddess. Besides there were
some panic fears and alarms that ran through the camp, with such a
noise that it awaked him out of his sleep. And about the time of
renewing the watch towards morning, there appeared a great light over
Caesar's camp, whilst they were all at rest, and from thence a ball of
flaming fire was carried into Pompey's camp, which Caesar himself says
he saw, as he was walking his rounds.
Now Caesar having designed to raise his camp with the morning and move
to Scotussa, whilst the soldiers were busy in pulling down their tents,
and sending on their cattle and servants before them with their
baggage, there came in scouts who brought word that they saw arms
carried to and fro in the enemy's camp, and heard a noise and running
up and down, as of men preparing for battle; not long after there came
in other scouts with further intelligence, that the first ranks were
already set in battle array. Thereupon Caesar, when he had told them
that the wished for day was come at last, when they should fight with
men, not with hunger and famine, instantly gave orders for the red
colors to be set up before his tent, that being the ordinary signal of
battle among the Romans. As soon as the soldiers saw that, they left
their tents, and with great shouts of joy ran to their arms; the
officers, likewise, on their parts drawing up their companies in order
of battle, every man fell into his proper rank without any trouble or
noise, as quietly and orderly as if they had been in a dance.
Pompey himself led the right wing of his army against Antony, and
placed his father-in-law Scipio in the middle against Lucius Calvinus.
The left wing was commanded by Lucius Domitius; and supported by the
great mass of the horse. For almost the whole cavalry was posted there,
in the hope of crushing Caesar, and cutting off the tenth legion, which
was spoken of as the stoutest in all the army, and in which Caesar
himself usually fought in person. Caesar observing the left wing of the
enemy to be lined and fortified with such a mighty guard of horse, and
alarmed at the gallantry of their appearance, sent for a detachment of
six cohorts out of the reserves, and placed them in the rear of the
tenth legion, commanding them not to stir, lest they should be
discovered by the enemy; but when the enemy's horse should begin to
charge, and press upon them, that they should make up with all speed to
the front through the foremost ranks, and not throw their javelins at a
distance, as is usual with brave soldiers, that they may come to a
close fight with their swords the sooner, but that they should strike
them upwards into the eyes and faces of the enemy; telling them that
those fine young dancers would never endure the steel shining in their
eyes, but would fly to save their handsome faces. This was Caesar's
employment at that time. But while he was thus instructing his
soldiers, Pompey on horseback was viewing the order of both armies, and
when he saw how well the enemy kept their ranks, expecting quietly the
signal of battle; and, on the contrary, how impatient and unsteady his
own men were, waving up and down in disorder for want of experience, he
was very much afraid that their ranks would be broken upon the first
onset; and therefore he gave out orders that the van should make a
stand, and keeping close in their ranks, should receive the enemy's
charge. Caesar much condemns this command; which he says not only took
off from the strength of the blows, which would otherwise have been
made with a spring; but also lost the men the impetus, which, more than
anything, in the moment of their coming upon the enemy, fills soldiers
with impulse and inspiration, the very shouts and rapid pace adding to
their fury; of which Pompey deprived his men, arresting them in their
course and cooling down their heat.
Caesar's army consisted of twenty-two thousand, and Pompey's of
somewhat above twice as many. When the signal of battle was given on
both sides, and the trumpets began to sound a charge, most men of
course were fully occupied with their own matters; only some few of the
noblest Romans, together with certain Greeks there present, standing as
spectators without the battle, seeing the armies now ready to join,
could not but consider in themselves to what a pass private ambition
and emulation had brought the empire. Common arms, and kindred ranks
drawn up under the self-same standards, the whole flower and strength
of the same single city here meeting in collision with itself, offered
plain proof how blind and how mad a thing human nature is, when once
possessed with any passion; for if they had been desirous only to rule,
and enjoy in peace what they had conquered in war, the greatest and
best part of the world was subject to them both by sea and land. But if
there was yet a thirst in their ambition, that must still be fed with
new trophies and triumphs, the Parthian and German wars would yield
matter enough to satisfy the most covetous of honor. Scythia, moreover,
was yet unconquered, and the Indians too, where their ambition might be
colored over with the specious pretext of civilizing barbarous nations.
And what Scythian horse, Parthian arrows, or Indian riches, could be
able to resist seventy thousand Roman soldiers, well appointed in arms,
under the command of two such generals as Pompey and Caesar, whose
names they had heard of before that of the Romans, and whose prowess,
by their conquests of such wild, remote, savage, and brutish nations,
was spread further than the fame of the Romans themselves? Today they
met in conflict, and could no longer be induced to spare their country,
even out of regard for their own glory or the fear of losing the name
which till this day both had held, of having never yet been defeated.
As for their former private ties, and the charms of Julia, and the
marriage that had made them near connections, these could now only be
looked upon as tricks of state, the mere securities of a treaty made to
serve the needs of an occasion, not the pledges of any real friendship.
Now, therefore, as soon as the plains of Pharsalia were covered with
men, horse, and armor, and that the signal of battle was raised on
either side, Caius Crassianus, a centurion, who commanded a company of
one hundred and twenty men, was the first that advanced out of Caesar's
army, to give the charge, and acquit himself of a solemn engagement
that he had made to Caesar. He had been the first man that Caesar had
seen going out of the camp in the morning, and Caesar, after saluting
him, had asked him what he thought of the coming battle. To which he,
stretching out his right hand, replied aloud, "Thine is the victory, O
Caesar, thou shalt conquer gloriously, and I myself this day will be
the subject of thy praise either alive or dead." In pursuance of this
promise he hastened forward, and being followed by many more, charged
into the midst of the enemy. There they came at once to a close fight
with their swords, and made a great slaughter; but as he was still
pressing forward, and breaking the ranks of the vanguard, one of
Pompey's soldiers ran him in at the mouth, so that the point of the
sword came out behind at his neck; and Crassianus being thus slain, the
fight became doubtful, and continued equal on that part of the battle.
Pompey had not yet brought on the right wing, but stayed and looked
about, waiting to see what execution his cavalry would do on the left.
They had already drawn out their squadrons in form, designing to turn
Caesar's flank, and force those few horse, which he had placed in the
front, to give back upon the battalion of foot. But Caesar, on the
other side, having given the signal, his horse retreated back a little,
and gave way to those six subsidiary cohorts, which had been posted in
the rear, as a reserve to cover the flank; and which now came out,
three thousand men in number, and met the enemy; and when they came up,
standing by the horses, struck their javelins upwards, according to
their instructions, and hit the horsemen full in their faces. They,
unskillful in any manner of fight, and least of all expecting or
understanding such a kind as this, had not courage enough to endure the
blows upon their faces, but turning their backs, and covering their
eyes with their hands, shamefully took to flight. Caesar's men,
however, did not follow them, but marched upon the foot, and attacked
the wing, which the flight of the cavalry had left unprotected, and
liable to be turned and taken in the rear, so that this wing now being
attacked in the flank by these, and charged in the front by the tenth
legion, was not able to abide the charge, or make any longer
resistance, especially when they saw themselves surrounded and
circumvented in the very way in which they had designed to invest the
enemy. Thus these being likewise routed and put to flight, when Pompey,
by the dust flying in the air, conjectured the fate of his horse, it
were very hard to say what his thoughts or intentions were, but looking
like one distracted and beside himself, and without any recollection or
reflection that he was Pompey the Great, he retired slowly towards his
camp, without speaking a word to any man, exactly according to the
description in the verses,
But Jove from heaven struck Ajax with a fear;
Ajax the bold then stood astonished there,
Flung o'er his back the mighty sevenfold shield,
And trembling gazed and spied about the field.
In this state and condition he went into his own tent, and sat down,
speechless still, until some of the enemy fell in together with his men
that were flying into the camp, and then he let fall only this one
word, "What? into the very camp?" and said no more; but rose up, and
putting on a dress suitable to his present fortune, made his way
secretly out.
By this time the rest of the army was put to flight, and there was a
great slaughter in the camp among the servants and those that guarded
the tents, but of the soldiers themselves there were not above six
thousand slain, as is stated by Asinius Pollio, who himself fought in
this battle on Caesar's side. When Caesar's soldiers had taken the
camp, they saw clearly the folly and vanity of the enemy; for all their
tents and pavilions were richly set out with garlands of myrtle,
embroidered carpets and hangings, and tables laid and covered with
goblets. There were large bowls of wine ready, and everything prepared
and put in array, in the manner rather of people who had offered
sacrifice and were going to celebrate a holiday, than of soldiers who
had armed themselves to go out to battle, so possessed with the
expectation of success and so full of empty confidence had they gone
out that morning.
When Pompey had got a little way from the camp, he dismounted and
forsook his horse, having but a small retinue with him; and finding
that no man pursued him, walked on softly afoot, taken up altogether
with thoughts, such as probably might possess a man that for the space
of thirty-four years together had been accustomed to conquest and
victory, and was then at last, in his old age, learning for the first
time what defeat and flight were. And it was no small affliction to
consider, that he had lost in one hour all that glory and power, which
he had been getting in so many wars, and bloody battles; and that he
who but a little before was guarded with such an army of foot, so many
squadrons of horse, and such a mighty fleet, was now flying in so mean
a condition, and with such a slender retinue, that his very enemies who
fought him could not know him. Thus, when he had passed by the city of
Larissa, and came into the pass of Tempe, being very thirsty, he
kneeled down and drank out of the river; then rising up again, he
passed through Tempe, until he came to the seaside, and there he betook
himself to a poor fisherman's cottage, where he rested the remainder of
the night. The next morning about break of day he went into one of the
river boats, and taking none of those that followed him except such as
were free, dismissed his servants, advising them to go boldly to
Caesar, and not be afraid. As he was rowing up and down near the shore,
he chanced to spy a large merchant-ship, lying off, just ready to set
sail; the master of which was a Roman citizen, named Peticius, who,
though he was not familiarly acquainted with Pompey, yet knew him well
by sight. Now it happened that this Peticius dreamed, the night before,
that he saw Pompey, not like the man he had often seen him, but in a
humble and dejected condition, and in that posture discoursing with
him. He was then telling his dream to the people on board, as men do
when at leisure, and especially dreams of that consequence, when of a
sudden one of the mariners told him, he saw a river boat with oars
putting off from shore, and that some of the men there shook their
garments, and held out their hands, with signs to take them in;
thereupon Peticius looking attentively, at once recognized Pompey, just
as he appeared in his dream, and smiting his hand on his head, ordered
the mariners to let down the ship's boat, he himself waving his hand,
and calling to him by his name, already assured of his change and the
change of his fortune by that of his garb. So that without waiting for
any further entreaty or discourse, he took him into his ship, together
with as many of his company as he thought fit, and hoisted sail. There
were with him the two Lentuli, and Favonius; and a little after they
spied king Deiotarus, making up towards them from the shore; so they
stayed and took him in along with them. At supper time, the master of
the ship having made ready such provisions as he had aboard, Pompey,
for want of his servants, began to undo his shoes himself; which
Favonius noticing ran to him and undid them, and helped him to anoint
himself, and always after continued to wait upon, and attend him in all
things, as servants do their masters, even to the washing of his feet,
and preparing his supper. Insomuch that anyone there present, observing
the free and unaffected courtesy of these services, might have well
exclaimed,
O heavens, in those that noble are,
Whate'er they do is fit and fair.
Pompey, sailing by the city of Amphipolis, crossed over from thence to
Mitylene, with a design to take in Cornelia and his son; and as soon as
he arrived at the port in that island, he dispatched a messenger into
the city, with news very different from Cornelia's expectation. For
she, by all the former messages and letters sent to please her, had
been put in hopes that the war was ended at Dyrrhachium, and that there
was nothing more remaining for Pompey, but the pursuit of Caesar. The
messenger finding her in the same hopes still, was not able to salute
or speak to her, but declaring the greatness of her misfortune by his
tears rather than by his words, desired her to make haste if she would
see Pompey, with one ship only, and that not of his own. The young lady
hearing this, fell down in a swoon, and continued a long time senseless
and speechless. And when with some trouble she was brought to her
senses again, being conscious to herself that this was no time for
lamentation and tears, she started up and ran through the city towards
the seaside, where Pompey meeting and embracing her, as she sank down,
supported by his arms, "This, sir," she exclaimed, "is the effect of my
fortune, not of yours, that I see you thus reduced to one poor vessel,
who before your marriage with Cornelia, were wont to sail in these seas
with a fleet of five hundred ships. Why therefore should you come to
see me, or why not rather have left to her evil genius one who has
brought upon you her own ill-fortune? How happy a woman had I been, if
I had breathed out my last, before the news came from Parthia of the
death of Publius, the husband of my youth, and how prudent if I had
followed his destiny, as I designed! But I was reserved for a greater
mischief, even the ruin of Pompey the Great."
Thus, they say, Cornelia spoke to him, and this was Pompey's reply:
"You have had, Cornelia, but one season of a better fortune, which it
may be, gave you unfounded hopes, by attending me a longer time than is
usual. It behoves us, who are mortals born, to endure these events, and
to try fortune yet again; neither is it any less possible to recover
our former state, than it was to fall from that into this." Thereupon
Cornelia sent for her servants and baggage out of the city. The
citizens also of Mitylene came out to salute and invite Pompey into the
city, but he refused, advising them to be obedient to the conqueror,
and fear not, for that Caesar was a man of great goodness and clemency.
Then turning to Cratippus, the philosopher, who came among the rest out
of the city to visit him, he began to find some fault, and briefly
argued with him upon Providence, but Cratippus modestly declined the
dispute, putting him in better hopes only, lest by opposing, he might
seem too austere or unseasonable. For he might have put Pompey a
question in his turn, in defense of Providence; and might have
demonstrated the necessity there was that the commonwealth should be
turned into a monarchy, because of their ill government in the state;
and could have asked, "How, O Pompey, and by what token or assurance
can we ascertain, that if the victory had been yours, you would have
used your fortune better than Caesar? We must leave the divine power to
act as we find it do."
Pompey having taken his wife and friends aboard, set sail, making no
port, nor touching anywhere, but when he was necessitated to take in
provisions, or fresh water. The first city he entered was Attalia, in
Pamphylia, and whilst he was there, there came some galleys thither to
him out of Cilicia, together with a small body of soldiers, and he had
almost sixty senators with him again; then hearing that his navy was
safe too, and that Cato had rallied a considerable body of soldiers
after their overthrow, and was crossing with them over into Africa, he
began to complain and blame himself to his friends that he had allowed
himself to be driven into engaging by land, without making use of his
other forces, in which he was irresistibly the stronger, and had not
kept near enough to his fleet, that failing by land, he might have
reinforced himself from the sea, and would have been again at the head
of a power quite sufficient to encounter the enemy on equal terms. And
in truth, neither did Pompey during all the war commit a greater
oversight, nor Caesar use a more subtle stratagem, than in drawing the
fight so far off from the naval forces.
As it now was, however, since he must come to some decision, and try
some plan within his present ability, he dispatched his agents to the
neighboring cities, and himself sailed about in person to others,
requiring their aid in money and men for his ships. But, fearing lest
the rapid approach of the enemy might cut off all his preparations, he
began to consider what place would yield him the safest refuge and
retreat at present. A consultation was held, and it was generally
agreed that no province of the Romans was secure enough. As for foreign
kingdoms, he himself was of opinion, that Parthia would be the fittest
to receive and defend them in their present weakness, and best able to
furnish them with new means and send them out again with large forces.
Others of the council were for going into Africa, and to king Juba. But
Theophanes the Lesbian, thought it madness to leave Egypt, that was but
at a distance of three days' sailing, and make no use of Ptolemy, who
was still a boy, and was highly indebted to Pompey for the friendship
and favor he had shown to his father, only to put himself under the
Parthian, and trust the most treacherous nation in the world; and
rather than make any trial of the clemency of a Roman, and his own near
connection, to whom if he would but yield to be second, he might be the
first and chief over all the rest, to go and place himself at the mercy
of Arsaces, which even Crassus had not submitted to, while alive; and,
moreover, to expose his young wife, of the family of the Scipios, among
a barbarous people, who govern by their lusts, and measure their
greatness by their power to commit affronts and insolencies; from whom,
though she suffered no dishonor, yet it might be thought she did, being
in the hands of those who had the power to do it. This argument alone,
they say, was persuasive enough to divert his course, that was designed
towards Euphrates, if it were so indeed that any counsel of Pompey's,
and not some superior power, made him take this other way.
As soon, therefore, as it was resolved upon, that he should fly into
Egypt, setting sail from Cyprus in a galley of Seleucia, together with
Cornelia, while the rest of his company sailed along near him, some in
ships of war, and others in merchant vessels, he passed over sea
without danger. But on hearing that king Ptolemy was posted with his
army at the city of Pelusium, making war against his sister, he steered
his course that way, and sent a messenger before to acquaint the king
with his arrival, and to crave his protection. Ptolemy himself was
quite young, and therefore Pothinus, who had the principal
administration of all affairs, called a council of the chief men, those
being the greatest whom he pleased to make so, and commanded them every
man to deliver his opinion touching the reception of Pompey. It was,
indeed, a miserable thing, that the fate of the great Pompey should be
left to the determinations of Pothinus the eunuch, Theodotus of Chios,
the paid rhetoric master, and Achillas the Egyptian. For these, among
the chamberlains and menial domestics, that made up the rest of the
council, were the chief and leading men. Pompey, who thought it
dishonorable for him to owe his safety to Caesar, riding at anchor at a
distance from shore, was forced to wait the sentence of this tribunal.
It seems they were so far different in their opinions that some were
for sending the man away, and others again for inviting and receiving
him; but Theodotus, to show his cleverness and the cogency of his
rhetoric, undertook to demonstrate, that neither the one nor the other
was safe in that juncture of affairs. For if they entertained him, they
would be sure to make Caesar their enemy, and Pompey their master; or
if they dismissed him, they might render themselves hereafter obnoxious
to Pompey, for that inhospitable expulsion, and to Caesar, for the
escape; so that the most expedient course would be to send for him and
take away his life, for by that means they would ingratiate themselves
with the one, and have no reason to fear the other; adding, it is
related, with a smile, that "a dead man cannot bite."
This advice being approved of, they committed the execution of it to
Achillas. He, therefore, taking with him as his accomplices one
Septimius, a man that had formerly held a command under Pompey, and
Salvius, another centurion, with three or four attendants, made up
towards Pompey's galley. In the meantime, all the chiefest of those who
accompanied Pompey in this voyage, were come into his ship to learn the
event of their embassy. But when they saw the manner of their
reception, that in appearance it was neither princely nor honorable,
nor indeed in any way answerable to the hopes of Theophanes, or their
expectation, (for there came but a few men in a fisherman's boat to
meet them,) they began to suspect the meanness of their entertainment,
and gave warning to Pompey that he should row back his galley, whilst
he was out of their reach, and make for the sea. By this time, the
Egyptian boat drew near, and Septimius standing up first, saluted
Pompey in the Latin tongue, by the title of imperator. Then Achillas,
saluting him in the Greek language, desired him to come aboard his
vessel, telling him, that the sea was very shallow towards the shore,
and that a galley of that burden could not avoid striking upon the
sands. At the same time they saw several of the king's galleys getting
their men on board, and all the shore covered with soldiers; so that
even if they changed their minds, it seemed impossible for them to
escape, and besides, their distrust would have given the assassins a
pretence for their cruelty. Pompey, therefore, taking his leave of
Cornelia, who was already lamenting his death before it came, bade two
centurions, with Philip, one of his freedmen, and a slave called
Scythes, go on board the boat before him. And as some of the crew with
Achillas were reaching out their hands to help him, he turned about
towards his wife and son, and repeated those iambics of Sophocles,
He that once enters at a tyrant's door,
Becomes a slave, though he were free before.
These were the last words he spoke to his friends, and so he went
aboard. Observing presently that notwithstanding there was a
considerable distance betwixt his galley and the shore, yet none of the
company addressed any words of friendliness or welcome to him all the
way, he looked earnestly upon Septimius, and said, "I am not mistaken,
surely, in believing you to have been formerly my fellow-soldier." But
he only nodded with his head, making no reply at all, nor showing any
other courtesy. Since, therefore, they continued silent, Pompey took a
little book in his hand, in which was written out an address in Greek,
which he intended to make to king Ptolemy, and began to read it. When
they drew near to the shore, Cornelia, together with the rest of his
friends in the galley, was very impatient to see the event, and began
to take courage at last, when she saw several of the royal escort
coming to meet him, apparently to give him a more honorable reception;
but in the meantime, as Pompey took Philip by the hand to rise up more
easily, Septimius first stabbed him from behind with his sword; and
after him likewise Salvius and Achillas drew out their swords. He,
therefore, taking up his gown with both hands, drew it over his face,
and neither saying nor doing anything unworthy of himself, only
groaning a little, endured the wounds they gave him, and so ended his
life, in the fifty-ninth year of his age, the very next day after the
day of his birth.
Cornelia, with her company from the galley, seeing him murdered, gave
such a cry that it was heard to the shore, and weighing anchor with all
speed, they hoisted sail, and fled. A strong breeze from the shore
assisted their flight into the open sea, so that the Egyptians, though
desirous to overtake them, desisted from the pursuit. But they cut off
Pompey's head, and threw the rest of his body overboard, leaving it
naked upon the shore, to be viewed by any that had the curiosity to see
so sad a spectacle. Philip stayed by and watched till they had glutted
their eyes in viewing it; and then washing it with sea-water, having
nothing else, he wrapped it up in a shirt of his own for a
winding-sheet. Then seeking up and down about the sands, at last he
found some rotten planks of a little fisher-boat, not much, but yet
enough to make up a funeral pile for a naked body, and that not quite
entire. As Philip was busy in gathering and putting these old planks
together, an old Roman citizen, who in his youth had served in the wars
under Pompey, came up to him and demanded, who he was that was
preparing the funeral of Pompey the Great. And Philip making answer,
that he was his freedman, "Nay, then," said he, "you shall not have
this honor alone; let even me, too, I pray you, have my share in such a
pious office. that I may not altogether repent me of this pilgrimage in
a strange land, but in compensation of many misfortunes, may obtain
this happiness at last, even with mine own hands to touch the body of
Pompey, and do the last duties to the greatest general among the
Romans." And in this manner were the obsequies of Pompey performed. The
next day Lucius Lentulus, not knowing what had passed, came sailing
from Cyprus along the shore of that coast, and seeing a funeral pile,
and Philip standing by, exclaimed, before he was yet seen by any one,
"Who is this that has found his end here?" adding, after a short pause,
with a sigh, "Possibly even thou, Pompeius Magnus!" and so going
ashore, he was presently apprehended and slain. This was the end of
Pompey.
Not long after, Caesar arrived in the country that was polluted with
this foul act, and when one of the Egyptians was sent to present him
with Pompey's head, he turned away from him with abhorrence as from a
murderer; and on receiving his seal, on which was engraved a lion
holding a sword in his paw, he burst into tears. Achillas and Pothinus
he put to death; and king Ptolemy himself, being overthrown in battle
upon the banks of the Nile, fled away and was never heard of
afterwards. Theodotus, the rhetorician, flying out of Egypt, escaped
the hands of Caesar's justice, but lived a vagabond in banishment;
wandering up and down, despised and hated of all men, till at last
Marcus Brutus, after he had killed Caesar, finding him in his province
of Asia, put him to death, with every kind of ignominy. The ashes of
Pompey were carried to his wife Cornelia, who deposited them at his
country house near Alba.
COMPARISON OF POMPEY AND AGESILAUS
Thus having drawn out the history of the lives of Agesilaus and Pompey,
the next thing is to compare them; and in order to this, to take a
cursory view, and bring together the points in which they chiefly
disagree; which are these. In the first place, Pompey attained to all
his greatness and glory by the fairest and justest means, owing his
advancement to his own efforts, and to the frequent and important aid
which he rendered Sylla, in delivering Italy from its tyrants. But
Agesilaus appears to have obtained his kingdom, not without offense
both towards gods and towards men, towards these, by procuring judgment
of bastardy against Leotychides, whom his brother had declared his
lawful son, and towards those, by putting a false gloss upon the
oracle, and eluding its sentence against his lameness. Secondly, Pompey
never ceased to display his respect for Sylla during his lifetime, and
expressed it also after his death, by enforcing the honorable interment
of his corpse, in despite of Lepidus, and by giving his daughter in
marriage to his son Faustus. But Agesilaus, upon a slight presence,
cast off Lysander with reproach and dishonor. Yet Sylla in fact had
owed to Pompey's services, as much as Pompey ever received from him,
whereas Lysander made Agesilaus king of Sparta, and general of all
Greece. Thirdly, Pompey's transgressions of right and justice in his
political life were occasioned chiefly by his relations with other
people, and most of his errors had some affinity, as well as himself,
to Caesar and Scipio, his fathers-in-law. But Agesilaus, to gratify the
fondness of his son, saved the life of Sphodrias by a sort of violence,
when he deserved death for the wrong he had done to the Athenians; and
when Phoebidas treacherously broke the peace with Thebes, zealously
abetted him for the sake, it was clear, of the unjust act itself. In
short, what mischief soever Pompey might be said to have brought on
Rome through compliance with the wishes of his friends or through
inadvertency, Agesilaus may be said to have brought on Sparta out of
obstinacy and malice, by kindling the Boeotian war. And if, moreover,
we are to attribute any part of these disasters to some personal
ill-fortune attaching to the men themselves, in the case of Pompey,
certainly, the Romans had no reason to anticipate it. Whereas Agesilaus
would not suffer the Lacedaemonians to avoid what they foresaw and were
forewarned must attend the "lame sovereignty." For had Leotychides been
chargeable ten thousand times as foreign and spurious, yet the race of
the Eurypontidae was still in being, and could easily have furnished
Sparta with a lawful king, that was sound in his limbs, had not
Lysander darkened and disguised the true sense of the oracle in favor
of Agesilaus.
Such a politic piece of sophistry as was devised by Agesilaus, in that
great perplexity of the people as to the treatment to be given to those
who had played the coward at the battle of Leuctra, when after that
unhappy defeat, he decreed, that the laws should sleep for that day, it
would be hard to find any parallel to; neither indeed have we the
fellow of it in all Pompey's story. But on the contrary, Pompey for a
friend thought it no sin to break those very laws which he himself had
made; as if to show at once the force of his friendship, and the
greatness of his power; whereas Agesilaus, under the necessity, as it
seemed, of either rescinding the laws, or not saving the citizens,
contrived an expedient by the help of which the laws should not touch
these citizens, and yet should not, to avoid it, be overthrown. Then I
must commend it as an incomparable act of civil virtue and obedience in
Agesilaus, that immediately upon the receipt of the scytala, he left
the wars in Asia, and returned into his country. For he did not like
Pompey merely advance his country's interest by acts that contributed
at the same time to promote his own greatness, but looking to his
country's good, for its sake laid aside as great authority and honor as
ever any man had before or since, except Alexander the Great.
But now to take another point of view, if we sum up Pompey's military
expeditions and exploits of war, the number of his trophies, and the
greatness of the powers which he subdued, and the multitude of battles
in which he triumphed, I am persuaded even Xenophon himself would not
put the victories of Agesilaus in balance with his, though Xenophon has
this privilege allowed him, as a sort of special reward for his other
excellences, that he may write and speak, in favor of his hero,
whatever he pleases. Methinks, too, there is a great deal of difference
betwixt these men, in their clemency and moderation towards their
enemies. For Agesilaus, while attempting to enslave Thebes and
exterminate Messene, the latter, his country's ancient associate, and
Thebes, the mother-city of his own royal house, almost lost Sparta
itself, and did really lose the government of Greece; whereas Pompey
gave cities to those of the pirates who were willing to change their
manner of life; and when it was in his power to lead Tigranes, king of
Armenia, in triumph, he chose rather to make him a confederate of the
Romans, saying, that a single day was worth less than all future time.
But if the preeminence in that which relates to the office and virtues
of a general, should be determined by the greatest and most important
acts and counsels of war, the Lacedaemonian would not a little exceed
the Roman. For Agesilaus never deserted his city, though it was
besieged by an army of seventy thousand men, when there were very few
soldiers within to defend it, and those had been defeated too, but a
little before, at the battle of Leuctra. But Pompey, when Caesar with a
body only of fifty-three hundred men, had taken but one town in Italy,
departed in a panic out of Rome, either through cowardice, when there
were so few, or at least through a false and mistaken belief that there
were more; and having conveyed away his wife and children, he left all
the rest of the citizens defenseless, and fled; whereas he ought either
to have conquered in fight for the defense of his country, or yielded
upon terms to the conqueror, who was moreover his fellow-citizen, and
allied to him; but now to the same man to whom he refused a
prolongation of the term of his government, and thought it intolerable
to grant another consulship, to him he gave the power, by letting him
take the city, to tell Metellus, together with all the rest, that they
were his prisoners.
That which is chiefly the office of a general, to force the enemy into
fighting when he finds himself the stronger, and to avoid being driven
into it himself when he is the weaker, this excellence Agesilaus always
displayed, and by it kept himself invincible; whereas in contending
with Pompey, Caesar, who was the weaker, successfully declined the
danger, and his own strength being in his land forces. drove him into
putting the conflict to issue with these, and thus made himself master
of the treasure, stores, and the sea too, which were all in his enemy's
hands, and by the help of which the victory could have been secured
without fighting. And what is alleged as an apology in vindication of
Pompey, is to a general of his age and standing the greatest of
disgraces. For, granting that a young commander might by clamor and
outcry be deprived of his fortitude and strength of mind, and weakly
forsake his better judgment, and the thing be neither strange nor
altogether unpardonable, yet for Pompey the Great, whose camp the
Romans called their country, and his tent the senate, styling the
consuls, praetors, and all other magistrates who were conducting, the
government at Rome, by no better title than that of rebels and
traitors, for him, whom they well knew never to have been under the
command of any but himself, having served all his campaigns under
himself as sole general, for him upon so small a provocation as the
scoffs of Favonius and Domitius, and lest he should bear the nickname
of Agamemnon, to be wrought upon, and even forced to hazard the whole
empire and liberty of Rome upon the cast of a die, was surely indeed
intolerable. Who, if he had so much regarded a present infamy, should
have guarded the city at first with his arms, and fought the battle in
defense of Rome, not have left it as he did; nor while declaring his
flight from Italy an artifice in the manner of Themistocles,
nevertheless be ashamed in Thessaly of a prudent delay before engaging.
Heaven had not appointed the Pharsalian fields to be the stage and
theater upon which they should contend for the empire of Rome, neither
was he summoned thither by any herald upon challenge, with intimation
that he must either undergo the combat, or surrender the prize to
another. There were many other fields, thousands of cities, and even
the whole earth placed at his command, by the advantage of his fleet,
and his superiority at sea, if he would but have followed the examples
of Maximus, Marius, Lucullus, and even Agesilaus himself, who endured
no less tumults within the city of Sparta, when the Thebans provoked
him to come out and fight in defense of the land, and sustained in
Egypt also numerous calumnies, slanders, and suspicions on the part of
the king, whom he counseled to abstain from a battle. And thus
following always what he had determined in his own judgment upon mature
advice, by that means he not only preserved the Egyptians, against
their wills, not only kept Sparta, in those desperate convulsions, by
his sole act, safe from overthrow, but even was able to set up trophies
likewise in the city over the Thebans, having given his countrymen an
occasion of being victorious afterwards by not at first leading them
out, as they tried to force him to do to their own destruction. The
consequence was that in the end Agesilaus was commended by the very
men, when they found themselves saved, upon whom he had put this
compulsion, whereas Pompey, whose error had been occasioned by others,
found those his accusers whose advice had misled him. Some indeed
profess that he was deceived by his father-in-law Scipio, who,
designing to conceal and keep to himself the greatest part of that
treasure which he had brought out of Asia, pressed Pompey to battle,
upon the pretence that there would be a want of money. Yet admitting he
was deceived, one in his place ought not to have been so, nor should
have allowed so slight an artifice to cause the hazard of such mighty
interests. And thus we have taken a view of each, by comparing together
their conduct, and actions in war.
As to their voyages into Egypt, one steered his course thither out of
necessity in flight; the other neither honorably, nor of necessity, but
as a mercenary soldier, having enlisted himself into the service of a
barbarous nation for pay, that he might be able afterwards to wage war
upon the Greeks. And secondly, what we charge upon the Egyptians in the
name of Pompey, the Egyptians lay to the charge of Agesilaus. Pompey
trusted them and was betrayed and murdered by them; Agesilaus accepted
their confidence and deserted them, transferring his aid to the very
enemies who were now attacking those whom be had been brought over to
assist.
ALEXANDER
It being my purpose to write the lives of Alexander the king, and of
Caesar, by whom Pompey was destroyed, the multitude of their great
actions affords so large a field that I were to blame if I should not
by way of apology forewarn my reader that I have chosen rather to
epitomize the most celebrated parts of their story, than to insist at
large on every particular circumstance of it. It must be borne in mind
that my design is not to write histories, but lives. And the most
glorious exploits do not always furnish us with the clearest
discoveries of virtue or vice in men; sometimes a matter of less
moment, an expression or a jest, informs us better of their characters
and inclinations, than the most famous sieges, the greatest armaments,
or the bloodiest battles whatsoever. Therefore as portrait-painters are
more exact in the lines and features of the face in which the character
is seen, than in the other parts of the body, so I must be allowed to
give my more particular attention to the marks and indications of the
souls of men, and while I endeavor by these to portray their lives, may
be free to leave more weighty matters and great battles to be treated
of by others.
It is agreed on by all hands, that on the father's side, Alexander
descended from Hercules by Caranus, and from Aeacus by Neoptolemus on
the mother's side. His father Philip, being in Samothrace, when he was
quite young, fell in love there with Olympias, in company with whom he
was initiated in the religious ceremonies of the country, and her
father and mother being both dead, soon after, with the consent of her
brother Arymbas, he married her. The night before the consummation of
their marriage, she dreamed that a thunderbolt fell upon her body,
which kindled a great fire, whose divided flames dispersed themselves
all about, and then were extinguished. And Philip some time after he
was married, dreamt that he sealed up his wife's body with a seal,
whose impression, as he fancied, was the figure of a lion. Some of the
diviners interpreted this as a warning to Philip to look narrowly to
his wife; but Aristander of Telmessus, considering how unusual it was
to seal up anything that was empty, assured him the meaning of his
dream was, that the queen was with child of a boy, who would one day
prove as stout and courageous as a lion. Once, moreover, a serpent was
found lying by Olympias as she slept, which more than anything else, it
is said, abated Philip's passion for her; and whether he feared her as
an enchantress, or thought she had commerce with some god, and so
looked on himself as excluded, he was ever after less fond of her
conversation. Others say, that the women of this country having always
been extremely addicted to the enthusiastic Orphic rites, and the wild
worship of Bacchus, (upon which account they were called Clodones, and
Mimallones,) imitated in many things the practices of the Edonian and
Thracian women about Mount Haemus, from whom the word threskeuein,
seems to have been derived, as a special term for superfluous and
over-curious forms of adoration; and that Olympias, zealously affecting
these fanatical and enthusiastic inspirations, to perform them with
more barbaric dread, was wont in the dances proper to these ceremonies
to have great tame serpents about her, which sometimes creeping out of
the ivy and the mystic fans, sometimes winding themselves about the
sacred spears, and the women's chaplets, made a spectacle which the men
could not look upon without terror.
Philip, after this vision, sent Chaeron of Megalopolis to consult the
oracle of Apollo at Delphi, by which he was commanded to perform
sacrifice, and henceforth pay particular honor, above all other gods,
to Ammon; and was told he should one day lose that eye with which he
presumed to peep through the chink of the door, when he saw the god,
under the form of a serpent, in the company of his wife. Eratosthenes
says that Olympias, when she attended Alexander on his way to the army
in his first expedition, told him the secret of his birth, and bade him
behave himself with courage suitable to his divine extraction. Others
again affirm that she wholly disclaimed any pretensions of the kind,
and was wont to say, "When will Alexander leave off slandering me to
Juno?"
Alexander was born the sixth of Hecatombaeon, which month the
Macedonians call Lous, the same day that the temple of Diana at Ephesus
was burnt; which Hegesias of Magnesia makes the occasion of a conceit,
frigid enough to have stopped the conflagration. The temple, he says,
took fire and was burnt while its mistress was absent, assisting at the
birth of Alexander. And all the Eastern soothsayers who happened to be
then at Ephesus, looking upon the ruin of this temple to be the
forerunner of some other calamity, ran about the town, beating their
faces, and crying, that this day had brought forth something that would
prove fatal and destructive to all Asia.
Just after Philip had taken Potidaea, he received these three messages
at one time, that Parmenio had overthrown the Illyrians in a great
battle, that his race-horse had won the course at the Olympic games,
and that his wife had given birth to Alexander; with which being
naturally well pleased, as an addition to his satisfaction, he was
assured by the diviners that a son, whose birth was accompanied with
three such successes, could not fail of being invincible.
The statues that gave the best representation of Alexander's person,
were those of Lysippus, (by whom alone he would suffer his image to be
made,) those peculiarities which many of his successors afterwards and
his friends used to affect to imitate, the inclination of his head a
little on one side towards his left shoulder, and his melting eye,
having been expressed by this artist with great exactness. But Apelles,
who drew him with thunderbolts in his hand, made his complexion browner
and darker than it was naturally; for he was fair and of a light color,
passing into ruddiness in his face and upon his breast. Aristoxenus in
his Memoirs tells us that a most agreeable odor exhaled from his skin,
and that his breath and body all over was so fragrant as to perfume the
clothes which he wore next him; the cause of which might probably be
the hot and adjust temperament of his body. For sweet smells,
Theophrastus conceives, are produced by the concoction of moist humors
by heat, which is the reason that those parts of the world which are
driest and most burnt up, afford spices of the best kind, and in the
greatest quantity; for the heat of the sun exhausts all the superfluous
moisture which lies in the surface of bodies, ready to generate
putrefaction. And this hot constitution, it may be, rendered Alexander
so addicted to drinking, and so choleric. His temperance, as to the
pleasures of the body, was apparent in him in his very childhood, as he
was with much difficulty incited to them, and always used them with
great moderation; though in other things he was extremely eager and
vehement, and in his love of glory, and the pursuit of it, he showed a
solidity of high spirit and magnanimity far above his age. For he
neither sought nor valued it upon every occasion, as his father Philip
did, (who affected to show his eloquence almost to a degree of
pedantry, and took care to have the victories of his racing chariots at
the Olympic games engraved on his coin,) but when he was asked by some
about him, whether he would run a race in the Olympic games, as he was
very swift-footed, he answered, he would, if he might have kings to run
with him. Indeed, he seems in general to have looked with indifference,
if not with dislike, upon the professed athletes. He often appointed
prizes, for which not only tragedians and musicians, pipers and
harpers, but rhapsodists also, strove to outvie one another; and
delighted in all manner of hunting and cudgel-playing, but never gave
any encouragement to contests either of boxing or of the pancratium.
While he was yet very young, he entertained the ambassadors from the
king of Persia, in the absence of his father, and entering much into
conversation with them, gained so much upon them by his affability, and
the questions he asked them, which were far from being childish or
trifling, (for he inquired of them the length of the ways, the nature
of the road into inner Asia, the character of their king, how he
carried himself to his enemies, and what forces he was able to bring,
into the field,) that they were struck with admiration of him, and
looked upon the ability so much famed of Philip, to be nothing in
comparison with the forwardness and high purpose that appeared thus
early in his son. Whenever he heard Philip had taken any town of
importance, or won any signal victory, instead of rejoicing at it
altogether, he would tell his companions that his father would
anticipate everything, and leave him and them no opportunities of
performing great and illustrious actions. For being more bent upon
action and glory than either upon pleasure or riches, he esteemed all
that he should receive from his father as a diminution and prevention
of his own future achievements; and would have chosen rather to succeed
to a kingdom involved in troubles and wars, which would have afforded
him frequent exercise of his courage, and a large field of honor, than
to one already flourishing and settled, where his inheritance would be
an inactive life, and the mere enjoyment of wealth and luxury.
The care of his education, as it might be presumed, was committed to a
great many attendants, preceptors, and teachers, over the whole of whom
Leonidas, a near kinsman of Olympias, a man of an austere temper,
presided, who did not indeed himself decline the name of what in
reality is a noble and honorable office, but in general his dignity,
and his near relationship, obtained him from other people the title of
Alexander's foster father and governor. But he who took upon him the
actual place and style of his pedagogue, was Lysimachus the Acarnanian,
who, though he had nothing specially to recommend him, but his lucky
fancy of calling himself Phoenix, Alexander Achilles, and Philip
Peleus, was therefore well enough esteemed, and ranked in the next
degree after Leonidas.
Philonicus the Thessalian brought the horse Bucephalas to Philip,
offering to sell him for thirteen talents; but when they went into the
field to try him, they found him so very vicious and unmanageable, that
he reared up when they endeavored to mount him, and would not so much
as endure the voice of any of Philip's attendants. Upon which, as they
were leading him away as wholly useless and untractable, Alexander, who
stood by, said, "What an excellent horse do they lose, for want of
address and boldness to manage him!" Philip at first took no notice of
what he said; but when he heard him repeat the same thing several
times, and saw he was much vexed to see the horse sent away, "Do you
reproach," said he to him, "those who are older than yourself, as if
you knew more, and were better able to manage him than they?" "I could
manage this horse," replied he, "better than others do." "And if you do
not," said Philip, "what will you forfeit for your rashness?" "I will
pay," answered Alexander, "the whole price of the horse." At this the
whole company fell a laughing; and as soon as the wager was settled
amongst them, he immediately ran to the horse, and taking hold of the
bridle, turned him directly towards the sun, having, it seems, observed
that he was disturbed at and afraid of the motion of his own shadow;
then letting him go forward a little, still keeping the reins in his
hand, and stroking him gently when he found him begin to grow eager and
fiery, he let fall his upper garment softly, and with one nimble leap
securely mounted him, and when he was seated, by little and little drew
in the bridle, and curbed him without either striking or spurring him.
Presently, when he found him free from all rebelliousness, and on]y
impatient for the course, he let him go at full speed, inciting him now
with a commanding voice, and urging him also with his heel. Philip and
his friends looked on at first in silence and anxiety for the result,
till seeing him turn at the end of his career, and come back rejoicing
and triumphing for what he had performed, they all burst out into
acclamations of applause; and his father, shedding tears, it is said,
for joy, kissed him as he came down from his horse, and in his
transport, said, "O my son, look thee out a kingdom equal to and worthy
of thyself, for Macedonia is too little for thee."
After this, considering him to be of a temper easy to be led to his
duty by reason, but by no means to be compelled, he always endeavored
to persuade rather than to command or force him to anything; and now
looking upon the instruction and tuition of his youth to be of greater
difficulty and importance, than to be wholly trusted to the ordinary
masters in music and poetry, and the common school subjects, and to
require, as Sophocles says,
The bridle and the rudder too,
he sent for Aristotle, the most learned and most cerebrated philosopher
of his time, and rewarded him with a munificence proportionable to and
becoming the care he took to instruct his son. For he repeopled his
native city Stagira, which he had caused to be demolished a little
before, and restored all the citizens who were in exile or slavery, to
their habitations. As a place for the pursuit of their studies and
exercises, he assigned the temple of the Nymphs, near Mieza, where, to
this very day, they show you Aristotle's stone seats, and the shady
walks which he was wont to frequent. It would appear that Alexander
received from him not only his doctrines of Morals, and of Politics,
but also something of those more abstruse and profound theories which
these philosophers, by the very names they gave them, professed to
reserve for oral communication to the initiated, and did not allow many
to become acquainted with. For when he was in Asia, and heard Aristotle
had published some treatises of that kind, he wrote to him, using very
plain language to him in behalf of philosophy, the following letter.
"Alexander to Aristotle greeting. You have not done well to publish
your books of oral doctrine; for what is there now that we excel others
in, if those things which we have been particularly instructed in be
laid open to all? For my part, I assure you, I had rather excel others
in the knowledge of what is excellent, than in the extent of my power
and dominion. Farewell." And Aristotle, soothing this passion for
preeminence, speaks, in his excuse for himself, of these doctrines, as
in fact both published and not published: as indeed, to say the truth,
his books on metaphysics are written in a style which makes them
useless for ordinary teaching, and instructive only, in the way of
memoranda, for those who have been already conversant in that sort of
learning.
Doubtless also it was to Aristotle, that he owed the inclination he
had, not to the theory only, but likewise to the practice of the art of
medicine. For when any of his friends were sick, he would often
prescribe them their course of diet, and medicines proper to their
disease, as we may find in his epistles. He was naturally a great lover
of all kinds of learning and reading; and Onesicritus informs us, that
he constantly laid Homer's Iliads, according to the copy corrected by
Aristotle, called the casket copy, with his dagger under his pillow,
declaring that he esteemed it a perfect portable treasure of all
military virtue and knowledge. When he was in the upper Asia, being
destitute of other books, he ordered Harpalus to send him some; who
furnished him with Philistus's History, a great many of the plays of
Euripides, Sophocles, and Aeschylus, and some dithyrambic odes,
composed by Telestes and Philoxenus. For awhile he loved and cherished
Aristotle no less, as he was wont to say himself, than if he had been
his father, giving this reason for it, that as he had received life
from the one, so the other had taught him to live well. But afterwards,
upon some mistrust of him, yet not so great as to make him do him any
hurt, his familiarity and friendly kindness to him abated so much of
its former force and affectionateness, as to make it evident he was
alienated from him. However, his violent thirst after and passion for
learning, which were once implanted, still grew up with him, and never
decayed; as appears by his veneration of Anaxarchus, by the present of
fifty talents which he sent to Xenocrates, and his particular care and
esteem of Dandamis and Calanus.
While Philip went on his expedition against the Byzantines, he left
Alexander, then sixteen years old, his lieutenant in Macedonia,
committing the charge of his seal to him; who, not to sit idle, reduced
the rebellious Maedi, and having taken their chief town by storm, drove
out the barbarous inhabitants, and planting a colony of several nations
in their room, called the place after his own name, Alexandropolis. At
the battle of Chaeronea, which his father fought against the Grecians,
he is said to have been the first man that charged the Thebans' sacred
band. And even in my remembrance, there stood an old oak near the river
Cephisus, which people called Alexander's oak, because his tent was
pitched under it. And not far off are to be seen the graves of the
Macedonians who fell in that battle. This early bravery made Philip so
fond of him, that nothing pleased him more than to hear his subjects
call himself their general and Alexander their king.
But the disorders of his family, chiefly caused by his new marriages
and attachments, (the troubles that began in the women's chambers
spreading, so to say, to the whole kingdom,) raised various complaints
and differences between them, which the violence of Olympias, a woman
of a jealous and implacable temper, made wider, by exasperating
Alexander against his father. Among the rest, this accident contributed
most to their falling out. At the wedding of Cleopatra, whom Philip
fell in love with and married, she being much too young for him, her
uncle Attalus in his drink desired the Macedonians would implore the
gods to give them a lawful successor to the kingdom by his niece. This
so irritated Alexander, that throwing one of the cups at his head, "You
villain," said he, "what, am I then a bastard?" Then Philip taking
Attalus's part, rose up and would have run his son through; but by good
fortune for them both, either his over-hasty rage, or the wine he had
drunk, made his foot slip, so that he fell down on the floor. At which
Alexander reproachfully insulted over him: "See there," said he, "the
man, who makes preparations to pass out of Europe into Asia, overturned
in passing from one seat to another." After this debauch, he and his
mother Olympias withdrew from Philip's company, and when he had placed
her in Epirus, he himself retired into Illyria.
About this time, Demaratus the Corinthian, an old friend of the family,
who had the freedom to say anything among them without offense, coming
to visit Philip, after the first compliments and embraces were over,
Philip asked him, whether the Grecians were at amity with one another.
"It ill becomes you," replied Demaratus, "to be so solicitous about
Greece, when you have involved your own house in so many dissensions
and calamities." He was so convinced by this seasonable reproach, that
he immediately sent for his son home, and by Demartatus's mediation
prevailed with him to return. But this reconciliation lasted not long;
for when Pixodorus, viceroy of Caria, sent Aristocritus to treat for a
match between his eldest daughter and Philip's son Arrhidaeus, hoping
by this alliance to secure his assistance upon occasion, Alexander's
mother, and some who pretended to be his friends, presently filled his
head with tales and calumnies, as if Philip, by a splendid marriage and
important alliance, were preparing the way for settling the kingdom
upon Arrhidaeus. In alarm at this, he dispatched Thessalus, the tragic
actor, into Caria, to dispose Pixodorus to slight Arrhidaeus, both as
illegitimate and a fool, and rather to accept of himself for his
son-in-law. This proposition was much more agreeable to Pixodorus than
the former. But Philip, as soon as he was made acquainted with this
transaction, went to his son's apartment, taking with him Philotas, the
son of Parmenio, one of Alexander's intimate friends and companions,
and there reproved him severely, and reproached him bitterly, that he
should be so degenerate, and unworthy of the power he was to leave him,
as to desire the alliance of a mean Carian, who was at best but the
slave of a barbarous prince. Nor did this satisfy his resentment, for
he wrote to the Corinthians, to send Thessalus to him in chains, and
banished Harpalus, Nearchus, Erigyius, and Ptolemy, his son's friends
and favorites, whom Alexander afterwards recalled, and raised to great
honor and preferment.
Not long after this, Pausanias, having had an outrage done to him at
the instance of Attalus and Cleopatra, when he found he could get no
reparation for his disgrace at Philip's hands, watched his opportunity
and murdered him. The guilt of which fact was laid for the most part
upon Olympias, who was said to have encouraged and exasperated the
enraged youth to revenge; and some sort of suspicion attached even to
Alexander himself, who, it was said, when Pausanias came and complained
to him of the injury he had received, repeated the verse out of
Euripides's Medea: --
On husband, and on father, and on bride.
However, he took care to find out and punish the accomplices of the
conspiracy severely, and was very angry with Olympias for treating
Cleopatra inhumanly in his absence.
Alexander was but twenty years old when his father was murdered, and
succeeded to a kingdom beset on all sides with great dangers, and
rancorous enemies. For not only the barbarous nations that bordered on
Macedonia, were impatient of being governed by any but their own native
princes; but Philip likewise, though he had been victorious over the
Grecians, yet, as the time had not been sufficient for him to complete
his conquest and accustom them to his sway, had simply left all things
in a general disorder and confusion. It seemed to the Macedonians a
very critical time; and some would have persuaded Alexander to give up
all thought of retaining the Grecians in subjection by force of arms,
and rather to apply himself to win back by gentle means the allegiance
of the tribes who were designing revolt, and try the effect of
indulgence in arresting the first motions towards revolution. But he
rejected this counsel as weak and timorous, and looked upon it to be
more prudence to secure himself by resolution and magnanimity, than, by
seeming to buckle to any, to encourage all to trample on him. In
pursuit of this opinion, he reduced the barbarians to tranquility, and
put an end to all fear of war from them, by a rapid expedition into
their country as far as the river Danube, where he gave Syrmus, king of
the Triballians, an entire overthrow. And hearing the Thebans were in
revolt, and the Athenians in correspondence with them, he immediately
marched through the pass of Thermopylae, saying that to Demosthenes who
had called him a child while he was in Illyria and in the country of
the Triballians, and a youth when he was in Thessaly, he would appear a
man before the walls of Athens.
When he came to Thebes, to show how willing he was to accept of their
repentance for what was past, he only demanded of them Phoenix and
Prothytes, the authors of the rebellion, and proclaimed a general
pardon to those who would come over to him. But when the Thebans merely
retorted by demanding Philotas and Antipater to be delivered into their
hands, and by a proclamation on their part, invited all who would
assert the liberty of Greece to come over to them, he presently applied
himself to make them feel the last extremities of war. The Thebans
indeed defended themselves with a zeal and courage beyond their
strength, being much outnumbered by their enemies. But when the
Macedonian garrison sallied out upon them from the citadel, they were
so hemmed in on all sides, that the greater part of them fell in the
battle; the city itself being taken by storm, was sacked and razed,
Alexander's hope being that so severe an example might terrify the rest
of Greece into obedience, and also in order to gratify the hostility of
his confederates, the Phocians and Plataeans. So that, except the
priests, and some few who had heretofore been the friends and
connections of the Macedonians, the family of the poet Pindar, and
those who were known to have opposed the public vote for the war, all
the rest, to the number of thirty thousand, were publicly sold for
slaves; and it is computed that upwards of six thousand were put to the
sword. Among the other calamities that befell the city, it happened
that some Thracian soldiers having broken into the house of a matron of
high character and repute, named Timoclea, their captain, after he had
used violence with her, to satisfy his avarice as well as lust, asked
her, if she knew of any money concealed; to which she readily answered
she did, and bade him follow her into a garden, where she showed him a
well, into which, she told him, upon the taking of the city she had
thrown what she had of most value. The greedy Thracian presently
stooping down to view the place where he thought the treasure lay, she
came behind him, and pushed him into the well, and then flung great
stones in upon him, till she had killed him. After which, when the
soldiers led her away bound to Alexander, her very mien and gait showed
her to be a woman of dignity, and of a mind no less elevated, not
betraying the least sign of fear or astonishment. And when the king
asked her who she was, "I am," said she, "the sister of Theagenes, who
fought the battle of Chaeronea with your father Philip, and fell there
in command for the liberty of Greece." Alexander was so surprised, both
at what she had done, and what she said, that he could not choose but
give her and her children their freedom to go whither they pleased.
After this he received the Athenians into favor, although they had
shown themselves so much concerned at the calamity of Thebes that out
of sorrow they omitted the celebration of the Mysteries, and
entertained those who escaped with all possible humanity. Whether it
were, like the lion, that his passion was now satisfied, or that after
an example of extreme cruelty, he had a mind to appear merciful, it
happened well for the Athenians; for he not only forgave them all past
offenses, but bade them to look to their affairs with vigilance,
remembering that if he should miscarry, they were likely to be the
arbiters of Greece. Certain it is, too, that in after-time he often
repented of his severity to the Thebans, and his remorse had such
influence on his temper as to make him ever after less rigorous to all
others. He imputed also the murder of Clitus, which he committed in his
wine, and the unwillingness of the Macedonians to follow him against
the Indians, by which his enterprise and glory was left imperfect, to
the wrath and vengeance of Bacchus, the protector of Thebes. And it was
observed that whatsoever any Theban, who had the good fortune to
survive this victory, asked of him, he was sure to grant without the
least difficulty.
Soon after, the Grecians, being assembled at the Isthmus, declared
their resolution of joining with Alexander in the war against the
Persians, and proclaimed him their general. While he stayed here, many
public ministers and philosophers came from all parts to visit him, and
congratulated him on his election, but contrary to his expectation,
Diogenes of Sinope, who then was living at Corinth, thought so little
of him, that instead of coming to compliment him, he never so much as
stirred out of the suburb called the Cranium, where Alexander found him
lying along in the sun. When he saw so much company near him, he raised
himself a little, and vouchsafed to look upon Alexander; and when he
kindly asked him whether he wanted anything, "Yes," said he, "I would
have you stand from between me and the sun." Alexander was so struck at
this answer, and surprised at the greatness of the man, who had taken
so little notice of him, that as he went away, he told his followers
who were laughing at the moroseness of the philosopher, that if he were
not Alexander, he would choose to be Diogenes.
Then he went to Delphi, to consult Apollo concerning the success of the
war he had undertaken, and happening to come on one of the forbidden
days, when it was esteemed improper to give any answers from the
oracle, he sent messengers to desire the priestess to do her office;
and when she refused, on the plea of a law to the contrary, he went up
himself, and began to draw her by force into the temple, until tired
and overcome with his importunity, "My son," said she, "thou art
invincible." Alexander taking hold of what she spoke, declared he had
received such an answer as he wished for, and that it was needless to
consult the god any further. Among other prodigies that attended the
departure of his army, the image of Orpheus at Libethra, made of
cypress-wood, was seen to sweat in great abundance, to the
discouragement of many. But Aristander told him, that far from
presaging any ill to him, it signified he should perform acts so
important and glorious as would make the poets and musicians of future
ages labor and sweat to describe and celebrate them.
His army, by their computation who make the smallest amount, consisted
of thirty thousand foot, and four thousand horse; and those who make
the most of it, speak but of forty-three thousand foot, and three
thousand horse. Aristobulus says, he had not a fund of above seventy
talents for their pay, nor had he more than thirty days' provision, if
we may believe Duris; Onesicritus tells us, he was two hundred talents
in debt. However narrow and disproportionable the beginnings of so vast
an undertaking might seem to be, yet he would not embark his army until
he had informed himself particularly what means his friends had to
enable them to follow him, and supplied what they wanted, by giving
good farms to some, a village to one, and the revenue of some hamlet or
harbor town to another. So that at last he had portioned out or engaged
almost all the royal property; which giving Perdiccas an occasion to
ask him what he would leave himself, he replied, his hopes. "Your
soldiers," replied Perdiccas, "will be your partners in those," and
refused to accept of the estate he had assigned him. Some others of his
friends did the like, but to those who willingly received, or desired
assistance of him, he liberally granted it, as far as his patrimony in
Macedonia would reach, the most part of which was spent in these
donations.
With such vigorous resolutions, and his mind thus disposed, he passed
the Hellespont, and at Troy sacrificed to Minerva, and honored the
memory of the heroes who were buried there, with solemn libations;
especially Achilles, whose gravestone he anointed, and with his
friends, as the ancient custom is, ran naked about his sepulchre, and
crowned it with garlands, declaring how happy he esteemed him, in
having while he lived so faithful a friend, and when he was dead, so
famous a poet to proclaim his actions. While he was viewing the rest of
the antiquities and curiosities of the place, being told he might see
Paris's harp, if he pleased, he said, he thought it not worth looking
on, but he should be glad to see that of Achilles, to which he used to
sing the glories and great actions of brave men.
In the meantime Darius's captains having collected large forces, were
encamped on the further bank of the river Granicus, and it was
necessary to fight, as it were, in the gate of Asia for an entrance
into it. The depth of the river, with the unevenness and difficult
ascent of the opposite bank, which was to be gained by main force, was
apprehended by most, and some pronounced it an improper time to engage,
because it was unusual for the kings of Macedonia to march with their
forces in the month called Daesius. But Alexander broke through these
scruples, telling; them they should call it a second Artemisius. And
when Parmenio advised him not to attempt anything that day, because it
was late, he told him that he should disgrace the Hellespont, should he
fear the Granicus. And so without more saying, he immediately took the
river with thirteen troops of horse, and advanced against whole showers
of darts thrown from the steep opposite side, which was covered with
armed multitudes of the enemy's horse and foot, notwithstanding the
disadvantage of the ground and the rapidity of the stream; so that the
action seemed to have more of frenzy and desperation in it, than of
prudent conduct. However, he persisted obstinately to gain the passage,
and at last with much ado making his way up the banks, which were
extremely muddy and slippery, he had instantly to join in a mere
confused hand-to-hand combat with the enemy, before he could draw up
his men, who were still passing over, into any order. For the enemy
pressed upon him with loud and warlike outcries; and charging horse
against horse, with their lances, after they had broken and spent
these, they fell to it with their swords. And Alexander, being easily
known by his buckler, and a large plume of white feathers on each side
of his helmet, was attacked on all sides, yet escaped wounding, though
his cuirass was pierced by a javelin in one of the joinings. And
Rhoesaces and Spithridates, two Persian commanders, falling upon him at
once, he avoided one of them, and struck at Rhoesaces, who had a good
cuirass on, with such force, that his spear breaking in his hand, he
was glad to betake himself to his dagger. While they were thus engaged,
Spithridates came up on one side of him, and raising himself upon his
horse, gave him such a blow with his battle-axe on the helmet, that he
cut off the crest of it, with one of his plumes, and the helmet was
only just so far strong enough to save him, that the edge of the weapon
touched the hair of his head. But as he was about to repeat his stroke,
Clitus, called the black Clitus, prevented him, by running him through
the body with his spear. At the same time Alexander dispatched
Rhoesaces with his sword. While the horse were thus dangerously
engaged, the Macedonian phalanx passed the river, and the foot on each
side advanced to fight. But the enemy hardly sustaining the first
onset, soon gave ground and fled, all but the mercenary Greeks, who,
making a stand upon a rising ground, desired quarter, which Alexander,
guided rather by passion than judgment, refused to grant, and charging
them himself first, had his horse (not Bucephalas, but another) killed
under him. And this obstinacy of his to cut off these experienced
desperate men, cost him the lives of more of his own soldiers than all
the battle before, besides those who were wounded. The Persians lost in
this battle twenty thousand foot, and two thousand five hundred horse.
On Alexander's side, Aristobulus says there were not wanting above four
and thirty, of whom nine were foot-soldiers; and in memory of them he
caused so many statues of brass, of Lysippus's making, to be erected.
And that the Grecians might participate the honor of his victory, he
sent a portion of the spoils home to them, particularly to the
Athenians three hundred bucklers, and upon all the rest he ordered this
inscription to be set: "Alexander the son of Philip, and the Grecians,
except the Lacedaemonians, won these from the barbarians who inhabit
Asia." All the plate and purple garments, and other things of the same
kind that he took from the Persians, except a very small quantity which
he reserved for himself, he sent as a present to his mother.
This battle presently made a great change of affairs to Alexander's
advantage. For Sardis itself, the chief seat of the barbarian's power
in the maritime provinces, and many other considerable places were
surrendered to him; only Halicarnassus and Miletus stood out, which he
took by force, together with the territory about them. After which he
was a little unsettled in his opinion how to proceed. Sometimes he
thought it best to find out Darius as soon as he could, and put all to
the hazard of a battle; another while he looked upon it as a more
prudent course to make an entire reduction of the sea-coast, and not to
seek the enemy till he had first exercised his power here and made
himself secure of the resources of these provinces. While he was thus
deliberating what to do, it happened that a spring of water near the
city of Xanthus in Lycia, of its own accord swelled over its banks, and
threw up a copper plate upon the margin, in which was engraven in
ancient characters, that the time would come, when the Persian empire
should be destroyed by the Grecians. Encouraged by this accident, he
proceeded to reduce the maritime parts of Cilicia and Phoenicia, and
passed his army along the sea-coasts of Pamphylia with such expedition
that many historians have described and extolled it with that height of
admiration, as if it were no less than a miracle, and an extraordinary
effect of divine favor, that the waves which usually come rolling in
violently from the main, and hardly ever leave so much as a narrow
beach under the steep, broken cliffs at any time uncovered, should on a
sudden retire to afford him passage. Menander, in one of his comedies,
alludes to this marvel when he says,
Was Alexander ever favored more?
Each man I wish for meets me at my door,
And should I ask for passage through the sea,
The sea I doubt not would retire for me.
But Alexander himself in his epistles mentions nothing unusual in this
at all, but says he went from Phaselis, and passed through what they
call the Ladders. At Phaselis he stayed some time, and finding the
statue of Theodectes, who was a native of this town and was now dead,
erected in the marketplace, after he had supped, having drunk pretty
plentifully, he went and danced about it, and crowned it with garlands,
honoring not ungracefully in his sport, the memory of a philosopher
whose conversation he had formerly enjoyed, when he was Aristotle's
scholar.
Then he subdued the Pisidians who made head against him, and conquered
the Phrygians, at whose chief city Gordium, which is said to be the
seat of the ancient Midas, he saw the famous chariot fastened with
cords made of the rind of the corner-tree, which whosoever should
untie, the inhabitants had a tradition, that for him was reserved the
empire of the world. Most authors tell the story that Alexander,
finding himself unable to untie the knot, the ends of which were
secretly twisted round and folded up within it, cut it asunder with his
sword. But Aristobulus tells us it was easy for him to undo it, by only
pulling the pin out of the pole, to which the yoke was tied, and
afterwards drawing off the yoke itself from below. From hence he
advanced into Paphlagonia and Cappadocia, both which countries he soon
reduced to obedience, and then hearing of the death of Memnon, the best
commander Darius had upon the sea-coasts, who, if he had lived, might,
it was supposed, have put many impediments and difficulties in the way
of the progress of his arms, he was the rather encouraged to carry the
war into the upper provinces of Asia.
Darius was by this time upon his march from Susa, very confident, not
only in the number of his men, which amounted to six hundred thousand,
but likewise in a dream, which the Persian soothsayers interpreted
rather in flattery to him, than according to the natural probability.
He dreamed that he saw the Macedonian phalanx all on fire, and
Alexander waiting on him, clad in the same dress which he himself had
been used to wear when he was courier to the late king; after which,
going into the temple of Belus, he vanished out of his sight. The dream
would appear to have supernaturally signified to him the illustrious
actions the Macedonians were to perform, and that as he from a
courier's place had risen to the throne, so Alexander should come to be
master of Asia, and not long surviving his conquests, conclude his life
with glory. Darius's confidence increased the more, because Alexander
spent so much time in Cilicia, which he imputed to his cowardice. But
it was sickness that detained him there, which some say he contracted
from his fatigues, others from bathing in the river Cydnus, whose
waters were exceedingly cold. However it happened, none of his
physicians would venture to give him any remedies, they thought his
case so desperate, and were so afraid of the suspicions and ill-will of
the Macedonians if they should fail in the cure; till Philip, the
Acarnanian, seeing how critical his case was, but relying on his own
well-known friendship for him, resolved to try the last efforts of his
art, and rather hazard his own credit and life, than suffer him to
perish for want of physic, which he confidently administered to him,
encouraging him to take it boldly, if he desired a speedy recovery, in
order to prosecute the war. At this very time, Parmenio wrote to
Alexander from the camp, bidding him have a care of Philip, as one who
was bribed by Darius to kill him, with great sums of money, and a
promise of his daughter in marriage. When he had perused the letter, he
put it under his pillow, without showing it so much as to any of his
most intimate friends, and when Philip came in with the potion, he took
it with great cheerfulness and assurance, giving him meantime the
letter to read. This was a spectacle well worth being present at, to
see Alexander take the draught, and Philip read the letter at the same
time, and then turn and look upon one another, but with different
sentiments; for Alexander's looks were cheerful and open, to show his
kindness to and confidence in his physician, while the other was full
of surprise and alarm at the accusation, appealing to the gods to
witness his innocence, sometimes lifting up his hands to heaven, and
then throwing himself down by the bedside, and beseeching Alexander to
lay aside all fear, and follow his directions without apprehension. For
the medicine at first worked so strongly as to drive, so to say, the
vital forces into the interior; he lost his speech, and falling into a
swoon, had scarce any sense or pulse left. However, in no long time, by
Philip's means, his health and strength returned, and he showed himself
in public to the Macedonians, who were in continual fear and dejection
until they saw him abroad again.
There was at this time in Darius's army a Macedonian refugee, named
Amyntas, one who was pretty well acquainted with Alexander's character.
This man, when he saw Darius intended to fall upon the enemy in the
passes and defiles, advised him earnestly to keep where he was, in the
open and extensive plains, it being the advantage of a numerous army to
have field-room enough when it engages with a lesser force. Darius,
instead of taking his counsel, told him he was afraid the enemy would
endeavor to run away, and so Alexander would escape out of his hands.
"That fear," replied Amyntas, "is needless, for assure yourself that
far from avoiding, you, he will make all the speed he can to meet you,
and is now most likely on his march towards you." But Amyntas's counsel
was to no purpose, for Darius immediately decamping, marched into
Cilicia, at the same time that Alexander advanced into Syria to meet
him; and missing one another in the night, they both turned back again.
Alexander, greatly pleased with the event, made all the haste he could
to fight in the defiles, and Darius to recover his former ground, and
draw his army out of so disadvantageous a place. For now he began to
perceive his error in engaging himself too far in a country in which
the sea, the mountains, and the river Pinarus running through the midst
of it, would necessitate him to divide his forces, render his horse
almost unserviceable, and only cover and support the weakness of the
enemy. Fortune was not kinder to Alexander in the choice of the ground,
than he was careful to improve it to his advantage. For being much
inferior in numbers, so far from allowing himself to be outflanked, he
stretched his right wing much further out than the left wing of his
enemies, and fighting there himself in the very foremost ranks, put the
barbarians to flight. In this battle he was wounded in the thigh,
Chares says by Darius, with whom he fought hand to hand. But in the
account which he gave Antipater of the battle though indeed he owns he
was wounded in the thigh with sword, though not dangerously, yet he
takes no notice who it was that wounded him.
Nothing was wanting to complete this victory, in which he overthrew
above a hundred and ten thousand of his enemies, but the taking the
person of Darius, who escaped very narrowly by flight. However, having
taken his chariot and his bow, he returned from pursuing him, and found
his own men busy in pillaging the barbarians' camp, which (though to
disburden themselves, they had left most of their baggage at Damascus)
was exceedingly rich. But Darius's tent, which was full of splendid
furniture, and quantities of gold and silver, they reserved for
Alexander himself, who after he had put off his arms, went to bathe
himself, saying, "Let us now cleanse ourselves from the toils of war in
the bath of Darius." "Not so," replied one of his followers, "but in
Alexander's rather; for the property of the conquered is, and should be
called the conqueror's." Here, when he beheld the bathing vessels, the
water-pots, the pans, and the ointment boxes, all of gold, curiously
wrought, and smelt the fragrant odors with which the whole place was
exquisitely perfumed, and from thence passed into a pavilion of great
size and height, where the couches and tables and preparations for an
entertainment were perfectly magnificent, he turned to those about him
and said, "This, it seems, is royalty."
But as he was going to supper, word was brought him that Darius's
mother and wife and two unmarried daughters, being taken among the rest
of the prisoners, upon the sight of his chariot and bow were all in
mourning and sorrow, imagining him to be dead. After a little pause,
more livelily affected with their affliction than with his own success
he sent Leonnatus to them to let them know Darius was not dead, and
that they need not fear any harm from Alexander, who made war upon him
only for dominion; they should themselves be provided with everything
they had been used to receive from Darius. This kind message could not
but be very welcome to the captive ladies, especially being made good
by actions no less humane and generous. For he gave them leave to bury
whom they pleased of the Persians, and to make use for this purpose of
what garments and furniture they thought fit out of the booty. He
diminished nothing of their equipage, or of the attentions and respect
formerly paid them, and allowed larger pensions for their maintenance
than they had before. But the noblest and most royal part of their
usage was, that he treated these illustrious prisoners according to
their virtue and character, not suffering them to hear, or receive, or
so much as to apprehend anything that was unbecoming. So that they
seemed rather lodged in some temple, or some holy virgin chambers,
where they enjoyed their privacy sacred and uninterrupted, than in the
camp of an enemy. Nevertheless Darius's wife was accounted the most
beautiful princess then living, as her husband the tallest and
handsomest man of his time, and the daughters were not unworthy of
their parents. But Alexander, esteeming it more kingly to govern
himself than to conquer his enemies, sought no intimacy with any one of
them, nor indeed with any other woman before marriage, except Barsine,
Memnon's widow, who was taken prisoner at Damascus. She had been
instructed in the Grecian learning, was of a gentle temper, and, by her
father Artabazus, royally descended, which good qualities, added to the
solicitations and encouragement of Parmenio, as Aristobulus tells us,
made him the more willing to attach himself to so agreeable and
illustrious a woman. Of the rest of the female captives though
remarkably handsome and well proportioned, he took no further notice
than to say jestingly, that Persian women were terrible eye-sores. And
he himself, retaliating, as it were, by the display of the beauty of
his own temperance and self-control, bade them be removed, as he would
have done so many lifeless images. When Philoxenus, his lieutenant on
the sea-coast, wrote to him to know if he would buy two young boys, of
great beauty, whom one Theodorus, a Tarentine, had to sell, he was so
offended, that he often expostulated with his friends, what baseness
Philoxenus had ever observed in him, that he should presume to make him
such a reproachful offer. And he immediately wrote him a very sharp
letter, telling him Theodorus and his merchandise might go with his
good-will to destruction. Nor was he less severe to Hagnon, who sent
him word he would buy a Corinthian youth named Crobylus, as a present
for him. And hearing that Damon and Timotheus, two of Parmenio's
Macedonian soldiers, had abused the wives of some strangers who were in
his pay, he wrote to Parmenio, charging him strictly, if he found them
guilty, to put them to death, as wild beasts that were only made for
the mischief of mankind. In the same letter he added, that he had not
so much as seen or desired to see the wife of Darius, no, nor suffered
anybody to speak of her beauty before him. He was wont to say, that
sleep and the act of generation chiefly made him sensible that he was
mortal; as much as to say, that weariness and pleasure proceed both
from the same frailty and imbecility of human nature.
In his diet, also, he was most temperate, as appears, omitting many
other circumstances, by what he said to Ada, whom he adopted, with the
title of mother, and afterwards created queen of Caria. For when she
out of kindness sent him every day many curious dishes, and sweetmeats,
and would have furnished him with some cooks and pastry-men, who were
thought to have great skill, he told her he wanted none of them, his
preceptor, Leonidas, having already given him the best, which were a
night march to prepare for breakfast, and a moderate breakfast to
create an appetite for supper. Leonidas also, he added, used to open
and search the furniture of his chamber, and his wardrobe, to see if
his mother had left him anything that was delicate or superfluous. He
was much less addicted to wine than was generally believed; that which
gave people occasion to think so of him was, that when he had nothing
else to do, he loved to sit long and talk, rather than drink, and over
every cup hold a long conversation. For when his affairs called upon
him, he would not be detained, as other generals often were, either by
wine, or sleep, nuptial solemnities, spectacles, or any other diversion
whatsoever; a convincing argument of which is, that in the short time
he lived, he accomplished so many and so great actions. When he was
free from employment, after he was up, and had sacrificed to the gods,
he used to sit down to breakfast, and then spend the rest of the day in
hunting, or writing memoirs, giving decisions on some military
questions, or reading. In marches that required no great haste, he
would practice shooting as he went along, or to mount a chariot, and
alight from it in full speed. Sometimes, for sport's sake, as his
journals tell us, he would hunt foxes and go fowling. When he came in
for the evening, after he had bathed and was anointed, he would call
for his bakers and chief cooks, to know if they had his dinner ready.
He never cared to dine till it was pretty late and beginning to be
dark, and was wonderfully circumspect at meals that everyone who sat
with him should be served alike and with proper attention; and his love
of talking, as was said before, made him delight to sit long at his
wine. And then, though otherwise no prince's conversation was ever so
agreeable, he would fall into a temper of ostentation and soldierly
boasting, which gave his flatterers a great advantage to ride him, and
made his better friends very uneasy. For though they thought it too
base to strive who should flatter him most, yet they found it hazardous
not to do it; so that between the shame and the danger, they were in a
great strait how to behave themselves. After such an entertainment, he
was wont to bathe, and then perhaps he would sleep till noon, and
sometimes all day long. He was so very temperate in his eating, that
when any rare fish or fruits were sent him, he would distribute them
among his friends, and often reserve nothing for himself. His table,
however, was always magnificent, the expense of it still increasing
with his good fortune, till it amounted to ten thousand drachmas a day,
to which sum he limited it, and beyond this he would suffer none to lay
out in any entertainment where he himself was the guest.
After the battle of Issus, he sent to Damascus to seize upon the money
and baggage, the wives and children of the Persians, of which spoil the
Thessalian horsemen had the greatest share; for he had taken particular
notice of their gallantry in the fight, and sent them thither on
purpose to make their reward suitable to their courage. Not but that
the rest of the army had so considerable a part of the booty as was
sufficient to enrich them all. This first gave the Macedonians such a
taste of the Persian wealth and women and barbaric splendor of living,
that they were ready to pursue and follow upon it with all the
eagerness of hounds upon a scent. But Alexander, before he proceeded
any further, thought it necessary to assure himself of the sea-coast.
Those who governed in Cyprus, put that island into his possession, and
Phoenicia, Tyre only excepted, was surrendered to him. During the siege
of this city, which with mounds of earth cast up, and battering
engines, and two hundred galleys by sea, was carried on for seven
months together, he dreamt that he saw Hercules upon the walls,
reaching, out his hand, and calling to him. And many of the Tyrians in
their sleep, fancied that Apollo told them he was displeased with their
actions, and was about to leave them and go over to Alexander. Upon
which, as if the god had been a deserting soldier, they seized him, so
to say, in the act, tied down the statue with ropes, and nailed it to
the pedestal, reproaching him, that he was a favorer of Alexander.
Another time, Alexander dreamed he saw a Satyr mocking him at a
distance, and when he endeavored to catch him, he still escaped from
him, till at last with much perseverance, and running about after him,
he got him into his power. The soothsayers making two words of Satyrus,
assured him, that Tyre should he his own. The inhabitants at this time
show a spring of water, near which they say Alexander slept, when he
fancied the Satyr appeared to him.
While the body of the army lay before Tyre, he made an excursion
against the Arabians who inhabit the Mount Antilibanus, in which he
hazarded his life extremely to bring off his master Lysimachus, who
would needs go along with him, declaring he was neither older nor
inferior in courage to Phoenix, Achilles's guardian. For when, quitting
their horses, they began to march up the hills on foot, the rest of the
soldiers outwent them a great deal, so that night drawing on, and the
enemy near, Alexander was fain to stay behind so long, to encourage and
help up the lagging and tired old man, that before he was aware, he was
left behind, a great way from his soldiers, with a slender attendance,
and forced to pass an extremely cold night in the dark, and in a very
inconvenient place; till seeing a great many scattered fires of the
enemy at some distance, and trusting to his agility of body, and as he
was always wont by undergoing toils and labors himself to cheer and
support the Macedonians in any distress, he ran straight to one of the
nearest fires, and with his dagger dispatching two of the barbarians
that sat by it, snatched up a lighted brand, and returned with it to
his own men. They immediately made a great fire, which so alarmed the
enemy that most of them fled, and those that assaulted them were soon
routed, and thus they rested securely the remainder of the night. Thus
Chares writes.
But to return to the siege, it had this issue. Alexander, that he might
refresh his army, harassed with many former encounters, had led only a
small party towards the walls, rather to keep the enemy busy, than with
any prospect of much advantage. It happened at this time that
Aristander, the soothsayer, after he had sacrificed, upon view of the
entrails, affirmed confidently to those who stood by, that the city
should be certainly taken that very month, upon which there was a laugh
and some mockery among the soldiers, as this was the last day of it.
The king seeing him in perplexity, and always anxious to support the
credit of the predictions, gave order that they should not count it as
the thirtieth, but as the twenty-third of the month, and ordering the
trumpets to sound, attacked the walls more seriously than he at first
intended. The sharpness of the assault so inflamed the rest of his
forces who were left in the camp, that they could not hold from
advancing to second it, which they performed with so much vigor, that
the Tyrians retired, and the town was carried that very day. The next
place he sat down before was Gaza, one of the largest cities of Syria,
where this accident befell him. A large bird flying over him, let a
clod of earth fall upon his shoulder, and then settling upon one of the
battering engines, was suddenly entangled and caught in the nets
composed of sinews, which protected the ropes with which the machine
was managed. This fell out exactly according to Aristander's
prediction, which was, that Alexander should be wounded, and the city
reduced.
From hence he sent great part of the spoils to Olympias, Cleopatra, and
the rest of his friends, not omitting his preceptor Leonidas, on whom
he bestowed five hundred talents weight of frankincense, and a hundred
of myrrh, in remembrance of the hopes he had once expressed of him when
he was but a child. For Leonidas, it seems, standing by him one day
while he was sacrificing, and seeing him take both his hands full of
incense to throw into the fire, told him it became him to be more
sparing in his offerings, and not be so profuse till he was master of
the countries which those sweet gums and spices came from. So Alexander
now wrote to him, saying, "We have sent you abundance of myrrh and
frankincense, that for the future you may not be stingy to the gods."
Among the treasures and other booty that was taken from Darius, there
was a very precious casket, which being brought to Alexander for a
great rarity, he asked those about him what they thought fittest to be
laid up in it; and when they had delivered their various opinions, he
told them he should keep Homer's Iliad in it. This is attested by many
credible authors, and if what those of Alexandria tell us, relying upon
the authority of Heraclides, be true, Homer was neither an idle, nor an
unprofitable companion to him in his expedition. For when he was master
of Egypt, designing to settle a colony of Grecians there, he resolved
to build a large and populous city, and give it his own name. In order
to which, after he had measured and staked out the ground with the
advice of the best architects, he chanced one night in his sleep to see
a wonderful vision; a grey-headed old man, of a venerable aspect,
appeared to stand by him, and pronounce these verses:--
An island lies, where loud the billows roar,
Pharos they call it, on the Egyptian shore.
Alexander upon this immediately rose up and went to Pharos, which, at
that time, was an island lying a little above the Canobic mouth of the
river Nile, though it has now been joined to the main land by a mole.
As soon as he saw the commodious situation of the place, it being a
long neck of land, stretching like an isthmus between large lagoons and
shallow waters on one side, and the sea on the other, the latter at the
end of it making a spacious harbor, he said, Homer, besides his other
excellences, was a very good architect, and ordered the plan of a city
to be drawn out answerable to the place. To do which, for want of
chalk, the soil being black, they laid out their lines with flour,
taking in a pretty large compass of ground in a semicircular figure,
and drawing into the inside of the circumference equal straight lines
from each end, thus giving it something of the form of a cloak or cape.
While he was pleasing himself with his design, on a sudden an infinite
number of great birds of several kinds, rising like a black cloud out
of the river and the lake, devoured every morsel of the flour that had
been used in setting out the lines; at which omen even Alexander
himself was troubled, till the augurs restored his confidence again by
telling him, it was a sign the city he was about to build would not
only abound in all things within itself, but also be the nurse and
feeder of many nations. He commanded the workmen to proceed, while he
went to visit the temple of Ammon.
This was a long and painful, and, in two respects, a dangerous journey;
first, if they should lose their provision of water, as for several
days none could be obtained; and, secondly, if a violent south wind
should rise upon them, while they were traveling through the wide
extent of deep sands, as it is said to have done when Cambyses led his
army that way, blowing the sand together in heaps, and raising, as it
were, the whole desert like a sea upon them, till fifty thousand were
swallowed up and destroyed by it. All these difficulties were weighed
and represented to him; but Alexander was not easily to be diverted
from anything he was bent upon. For fortune having hitherto seconded
him in his designs, made him resolute and firm in his opinions, and the
boldness of his temper raised a sort of passion in him for surmounting
difficulties; as if it were not enough to be always victorious in the
field, unless places and seasons and nature herself submitted to him.
In this journey, the relief and assistance the gods afforded him in his
distresses, were more remarkable, and obtained greater belief than the
oracles he received afterwards, which, however, were valued and
credited the more on account of those occurrences. For first, plentiful
rains that fell, preserved them from any fear of perishing by drought,
and, allaying the extreme dryness of the sand, which now became moist
and firm to travel on, cleared and purified the air. Besides this, when
they were out of their way, and were wandering up and down, because the
marks which were wont to direct the guides were disordered and lost,
they were set right again by some ravens, which flew before them when
on their march, and waited for them when they lingered and fell behind;
and the greatest miracle, as Callisthenes tells us, was that if any of
the company went astray in the night, they never ceased croaking and
making a noise, till by that means they had brought them into the right
way again. Having passed through the wilderness, they came to the
place; where the high-priest at the first salutation bade Alexander
welcome from his father Ammon. And being asked by him whether any of
his father's murderers had escaped punishment, he charged him to speak
with more respect, since his was not a mortal father. Then Alexander,
changing his expression, desired to know of him if any of those who
murdered Philip were yet unpunished, and further concerning dominion,
whether the empire of the world was reserved for him? This, the god
answered, he should obtain, and that Philip's death was fully revenged,
which gave him so much satisfaction, that he made splendid offerings to
Jupiter, and gave the priests very rich presents. This is what most
authors write concerning the oracles. But Alexander, in a letter to his
mother, tells her there were some secret answers, which at his return
he would communicate to her only. Others say that the priest, desirous
as a piece of courtesy to address him in Greek, "O Paidion," by a slip
in pronunciation ended with the s instead of the n, and said, "O
Paidios," which mistake Alexander was well enough pleased with, and it
went for current that the oracle had called him so.
Among the sayings of one Psammon, a philosopher, whom he heard in
Egypt, he most approved of this, that all men are governed by God,
because in everything, that which is chief and commands, is divine. But
what he pronounced himself upon this subject, was even more like a
philosopher, for he said, God was the common father of us all, but more
particularly of the best of us. To the barbarians he carried himself
very haughtily, as if he were fully persuaded of his divine birth and
parentage; but to the Grecians more moderately, and with less
affectation of divinity, except it were once in writing to the
Athenians about Samos, when he tells them that he should not himself
have bestowed upon them that free and glorious city; "You received it,"
he says, "from the bounty of him who at that time was called my lord
and father," meaning Philip. However, afterwards being wounded with an
arrow, and feeling much pain, he turned to those about him, and told
them, "This, my friends, is real flowing blood, not Ichor,
'Such as immortal gods are wont to shed.'"
And another time, when it thundered so much that everybody was afraid,
and Anaxarchus, the sophist, asked him if he who was Jupiter's son
could do anything like this, "Nay," said Alexander, laughing, "I have
no desire to be formidable to my friends, as you would have me, who
despised my table for being furnished with fish, and not with the heads
of governors of provinces." For in fact it is related as true, that
Anaxarchus seeing a present of small fishes, which the king sent to
Hephaestion, had used this expression, in a sort of irony, and
disparagement of those who undergo vast labors and encounter great
hazards in pursuit of magnificent objects, which after all bring them
little more pleasure or enjoyment than what others have. From what I
have said upon this subject, it is apparent that Alexander in himself
was not foolishly affected, or had the vanity to think himself really a
god, but merely used his claims to divinity as a means of maintaining
among other people the sense of his superiority.
At his return out of Egypt into Phoenicia, he sacrificed and made
solemn processions, to which were added shows of lyric dances and
tragedies, remarkable not merely for the splendor of the equipage and
decorations, but for the competition among those who exhibited them.
For the kings of Cyprus were here the exhibitors, just in the same
manner as at Athens those who are chosen by lot out of the tribes. And,
indeed, they showed the greatest emulation to outvie each other;
especially Nicocreon, king of Salamis, and Pasicrates of Soli, who
furnished the chorus, and defrayed the expenses of the two most
celebrated actors, Athenodorus and Thessalus, the former performing for
Pasicrates, and the latter for Nicocreon. Thessalus was most favored by
Alexander, though it did not appear till Athenodorus was declared
victor by the plurality of votes. For then at his going away, he said
the judges deserved to be commended for what they had done, but that he
would willingly have lost part of his kingdom, rather than to have seen
Thessalus overcome. However, when he understood Athenodorus was fined
by the Athenians for being absent at the festivals of Bacchus, though
he refused his request that he would write a letter in his behalf, he
gave him a sufficient sum to satisfy the penalty. Another time, when
Lycon of Scarphia happened to act with great applause in the theater,
and in a verse which he introduced into the comic part which he was
acting, begged for a present of ten talents, he laughed and gave him
the money.
Darius wrote him a letter, and sent friends to intercede with him,
requesting him to accept as a ransom of his captives the sum of a
thousand talents, and offering him in exchange for his amity and
alliance, all the countries on this side the river Euphrates, together
with one of his daughters in marriage. These propositions he
communicated to his friends, and when Parmenio told him, that for his
part, if he were Alexander, he should readily embrace them, "So would
I," said Alexander, "if I were Parmenio." Accordingly, his answer to
Darius was, that if he would come and yield himself up into his power,
he would treat him with all possible kindness; if not, he was resolved
immediately to go himself and seek him. But the death of Darius's wife
in childbirth made him soon after regret one part of this answer, and
he showed evident marks of grief, at being thus deprived of a further
opportunity of exercising his clemency and good nature, which he
manifested, however, as far as he could, by giving her a most sumptuous
funeral.
Among the eunuchs who waited in the queen's chamber, and were taken
prisoners with the women, there was one Tireus, who getting out of the
camp, fled away on horseback to Darius, to inform him of his wife's
death. He, when he heard it, beating his head, and bursting into tears
and lamentations, said, "Alas! how great is the calamity of the
Persians! Was it not enough that their king's consort and sister was a
prisoner in her lifetime, but she must, now she is dead also, be but
meanly and obscurely buried?" "Oh king," replied the eunuch, "as to her
funeral rites, or any respect or honor that should have been shown in
them, you have not the least reason to accuse the ill-fortune of your
country; for to my knowledge neither your queen Statira when alive, nor
your mother, nor children, wanted anything of their former happy
condition, unless it were the light of your countenance, which I doubt
not but the lord Oromasdes will yet restore to its former glory. And
after her decease, I assure you, she had not only all due funeral
ornaments, but was honored also with the tears of your very enemies;
for Alexander is as gentle after victory, as he is terrible in the
field." At the hearing of these words, such was the grief and emotion
of Darius's mind, that they carried him into extravagant suspicions;
and taking Tireus aside into a more private part of his tent, "Unless
thou likewise," said he to him, "hast deserted me, together with the
good fortune of Persia, and art become a Macedonian in thy heart; if
thou yet ownest me for thy master Darius, tell me, I charge thee, by
the veneration thou payest the light of Mithras, and this right hand of
thy king, do I not lament the least of Statira's misfortunes in her
captivity and death? Have I not suffered something more injurious and
deplorable in her lifetime? And had I not been miserable with less
dishonor, if I had met with a more severe and inhuman enemy? For how is
it possible a young man as he is, should treat the wife of his opponent
with so much distinction, were it not from some motive that does me
disgrace?" Whilst he was yet speaking, Tireus threw himself at his
feet, and besought him neither to wrong Alexander so much, nor his dead
wife and sister, as to give utterance to any such thoughts, which
deprived him of the greatest consolation left him in his adversity, the
belief that he was overcome by a man whose virtues raised him above
human nature; that he ought to look upon Alexander with love and
admiration, who had given no less proofs of his continence towards the
Persian women, than of his valor among the men. The eunuch confirmed
all he said with solemn and dreadful oaths, and was further enlarging
upon Alexander's moderation and magnanimity on other occasions, when
Darius, breaking away from him into the other division of the tent,
where his friends and courtiers were, lifted up his hands to heaven,
and uttered this prayer, "Ye gods," said he, "of my family, and of my
kingdom, if it be possible, I beseech you to restore the declining
affairs of Persia, that I may leave them in as flourishing a condition
as I found them, and have it in my power to make a grateful return to
Alexander for the kindness which in my adversity he has shown to those
who are dearest to me. But if, indeed, the fatal time be come, which is
to give a period to the Persian monarchy, if our ruin be a debt that
must be paid to the divine jealousy and the vicissitude of things, then
I beseech you grant that no other man but Alexander may sit upon the
throne of Cyrus." Such is the narrative given by the greater number of
the historians.
But to return to Alexander. After he had reduced all Asia on this side
the Euphrates, he advanced towards Darius, who was coming down against
him with a million of men. In his march, a very ridiculous passage
happened. The servants who followed the camp, for sport's sake divided
themselves into two parties, and named the commander of one of them
Alexander, and of the other Darius. At first they only pelted one
another with clods of earth, but presently took to their fists, and at
last, heated with the contention, they fought in good earnest with
stones and clubs, so that they had much ado to part them; till
Alexander, upon hearing of it, ordered the two captains to decide the
quarrel by single combat, and armed him who bore his name himself,
while Philotas did the same to him who represented Darius. The whole
army were spectators of this encounter, willing from the event of it to
derive an omen of their own future success. After they had fought
stoutly a pretty long while, at last he who was called Alexander had
the better, and for a reward of his prowess, had twelve villages given
him, with leave to wear the Persian dress. So we are told by
Eratosthenes.
But the great battle of all that was fought with Darius, was not, as
most writers tell us, at Arbela, but at Gaugamela, which, in their
language, signifies the camel's house, forasmuch as one of their
ancient kings having escaped the pursuit of his enemies on a swift
camel, in gratitude to his beast, settled him at this place, with an
allowance of certain villages and rents for his maintenance. It came to
pass that in the month Boedromion, about the beginning of the feast of
Mysteries at Athens, there was an eclipse of the moon, the eleventh
night after which, the two armies being now in view of one another,
Darius kept his men in arms, and by torchlight took a general review of
them. But Alexander, while his soldiers slept, spent the night before
his tent with his diviner Aristander, performing certain mysterious
ceremonies, and sacrificing to the god Fear. In the meanwhile the
oldest of his commanders, and chiefly Parmenio, when they beheld all
the plain between Niphates and the Gordyaean mountains shining with the
lights and fires which were made by the barbarians, and heard the
uncertain and confused sound of voices out of their camp, like the
distant roaring of a vast ocean, were so amazed at the thoughts of such
a multitude, that after some conference among themselves, they
concluded it an enterprise too difficult and hazardous for them to
engage so numerous an enemy in the day, and therefore meeting the king
as he came from sacrificing, besought him to attack Darius by night,
that the darkness might conceal the danger of the ensuing battle. To
this he gave them the celebrated answer, "I will not steal a victory,"
which though some at the time thought a boyish and inconsiderate
speech, as if he played with danger, others, however, regarded as an
evidence that he confided in his present condition, and acted on a true
judgment of the future, not wishing to leave Darius, in case he were
worsted, the pretext of trying his fortune again, which he might
suppose himself to have, if he could impute his overthrow to the
disadvantage of the night, as he did before to the mountains, the
narrow passages, and the sea. For while he had such numerous forces and
large dominions still remaining, it was not any want of men or arms
that could induce him to give up the war, but only the loss of all
courage and hope upon the conviction of an undeniable and manifest
defeat.
After they were gone from him with this answer, he laid himself down in
his tent and slept the rest of the night more soundly than was usual
with him, to the astonishment of the commanders, who came to him early
in the morning, and were fain themselves to give order that the
soldiers should breakfast. But at last, time not giving them leave to
wait any longer, Parmenio went to his bedside, and called him twice or
thrice by his name, till he waked him, and then asked him how it was
possible, when he was to fight the most important battle of all, he
could sleep as soundly as if he were already victorious. "And are we
not so, indeed," replied Alexander, smiling, "since we are at last
relieved from the trouble of wandering in pursuit of Darius through a
wide and wasted country, hoping in vain that he would fight us?" And
not only before the battle, but in the height of the danger, he showed
himself great, and manifested the self-possession of a just foresight
and confidence. For the battle for some time fluctuated and was
dubious. The left wing, where Parmenio commanded, was so impetuously
charged by the Bactrian horse that it was disordered and forced to give
ground, at the same time that Mazaeus had sent a detachment round about
to fall upon those who guarded the baggage, which so disturbed
Parmenio, that he sent messengers to acquaint Alexander that the camp
and baggage would be all lost unless he immediately believed the rear
by a considerable reinforcement drawn out of the front. This message
being brought him just as he was giving the signal to those about him
for the onset, he bade them tell Parmenio that he must have surely lost
the use of his reason, and had forgotten, in his alarm, that soldiers,
if victorious, become masters of their enemies' baggage; and if
defeated, instead of taking care of their wealth or their slaves, have
nothing more to do but to fight gallantly and die with honor. When he
had said this, he put on his helmet, having the rest of his arms on
before he came out of his tent, which were coat of the Sicilian make,
girt close about him, and over that a breastpiece of thickly quilted
linen, which was taken among other booty at the battle of Issus. The
helmet, which was made by Theophilus, though of iron, was so well
wrought and polished, that it was as bright as the most refined silver.
To this was fitted a gorget of the same metal, set with precious
stones. His sword, which was the weapon he most used in fight, was
given him by the king of the Citieans, and was of an admirable temper
and lightness. The belt which he also wore in all engagements, was of
much richer workmanship than the rest of his armor. It was a work of
the ancient Helicon, and had been presented to him by the Rhodians, as
mark of their respect to him. So long as he was engaged in drawing up
his men, or riding about to give orders or directions, or to view them,
he spared Bucephalas, who was now growing old, and made use of another
horse; but when he was actually to fight, he sent for him again, and as
soon as he was mounted, commenced the attack.
He made the longest address that day to the Thessalians and other
Greeks, who answered him with loud shouts, desiring him to lead them on
against the barbarians, upon which he shifted his javelin into his left
hand, and with his right lifted up towards heaven, besought the gods,
as Callisthenes tells us, that if he was of a truth the son of Jupiter,
they would he pleased to assist and strengthen the Grecians. At the
same time the augur Aristander, who had a white mantle about him, and a
crown of gold on his head, rode by and showed them an eagle that soared
just over Alexander, and directed his Right towards the enemy; which so
animated the beholders, that after mutual encouragements and
exhortations, the horse charged at full speed, and were followed in a
mass by the whole phalanx of the foot. But before they could well come
to blows with the first ranks, the barbarians shrunk back, and were
hotly pursued by Alexander, who drove those that fled before him into
the middle of the battle, where Darius himself was in person, whom he
saw from a distance over the foremost ranks, conspicuous in the midst
of his life-guard, a tall and fine-looking man, drawn in a lofty
chariot, defended by an abundance of the best horse, who stood close in
order about it, ready to receive the enemy. But Alexander's approach
was so terrible, forcing those who gave back upon those who yet
maintained their ground, that he beat down and dispersed them almost
all. Only a few of the bravest and valiantest opposed the pursuit, who
were slain in their king's presence, falling in heaps upon one another,
and in the very pangs of death striving to catch hold of the horses.
Darius now seeing all was lost, that those who were placed in front to
defend him were broken and beat back upon him, that he could not turn
or disengage his chariot without great difficulty, the wheels being
clogged and entangled among the dead bodies, which lay in such heaps as
not only stopped, but almost covered the horses, and made them rear and
grow so unruly, that the frighted charioteer could govern them no
longer, in this extremity was glad to quit his chariot and his arms,
and mounting, it is said, upon a mare that had been taken from her
foal, betook himself to flight. But he had not escaped so either, if
Parmenio had not sent fresh messengers to Alexander, to desire him to
return and assist him against a considerable body of the enemy which
yet stood together, and would not give ground. For, indeed, Parmenio is
on all hands accused of having been sluggish and unserviceable in this
battle, whether age had impaired his courage, or that, as Callisthenes
says, he secretly disliked and envied Alexander's growing greatness.
Alexander, though he was not a little vexed to be so recalled and
hindered from pursuing his victory, yet concealed the true reason from
his men, and causing a retreat to be sounded, as if it were too late to
continue the execution any longer, marched back towards the place of
danger, and by the way met with the news of the enemy's total overthrow
and flight.
This battle being thus over, seemed to put a period to the Persian
empire; and Alexander, who was now proclaimed king of Asia, returned
thanks to the gods in magnificent sacrifices, and rewarded his friends
and followers with great sums of money, and places, and governments of
provinces. And eager to gain honor with the Grecians, he wrote to them
that he would have all tyrannies abolished, that they might live free
according to their own laws, and specially to the Plataeans, that their
city should be rebuilt, because their ancestors had permitted their
countrymen of old to make their territory the seat of the war, when
they fought with the barbarians for their common liberty. He sent also
part of the spoils into Italy, to the Crotoniats, to honor the zeal and
courage of their citizen Phayllus, the wrestler, who, in the Median
war, when the other Grecian colonies in Italy disowned Greece, that he
might have a share in the danger, joined the fleet at Salamis, with a
vessel set forth at his own charge. So affectionate was Alexander to
all kind of virtue, and so desirous to preserve the memory of laudable
actions.
From hence he marched through the province of Babylon, which
immediately submitted to him, and in Ecbatana was much surprised at the
sight of the place where fire issues in a continuous stream, like a
spring of water, out of a cleft in the earth, and the stream of
naphtha, which, not far from this spot, flows out so abundantly as to
form a sort of lake. This naphtha, in other respects resembling
bitumen, is so subject to take fire, that before it touches the flame,
it will kindle at the very light that surrounds it, and often inflame
the intermediate air also. The barbarians, to show the power and nature
of it, sprinkled the street that led to the king's lodgings with little
drops of it, and when it was almost night, stood at the further end
with torches, which being applied to the moistened places, the first at
once taking fire, instantly, as quick as a man could think of it, it
caught from one end to another, in such a manner that the whole street
was one continued flame. Among those who used to wait on the king and
find occasion to amuse him when he anointed and washed himself, there
was one Athenophanes, an Athenian, who desired him to make an
experiment of the naphtha upon Stephanus, who stood by in the bathing
place, a youth with a ridiculously ugly face, whose talent was singing
well, "For," said he, "if it take hold of him and is not put out, it
must undeniably be allowed to be of the most invincible strength." The
youth, as it happened, readily consented to undergo the trial, and as
soon as he was anointed and rubbed with it, his whole body broke out
into such a flame, and was so seized by the fire, that Alexander was in
the greatest perplexity and alarm for him, and not without reason; for
nothing could have prevented his being consumed by it, if by good
chance there had not been people at hand with a great many vessels of
water for the service of the bath, with all which they had much ado to
extinguish the fire; and his body was so burned all over, that he was
not cured of it a good while after. And thus it is not without some
plausibility that they endeavor to reconcile the fable to truth, who
say this was the drug in the tragedies with which Medea anointed the
crown and veil which she gave to Creon's daughter. For neither the
things themselves, nor the fire could kindle of its own accord, but
being prepared for it by the naphtha, they imperceptibly attracted and
caught a flame which happened to be brought near them. For the rays and
emanations of fire at a distance have no other effect upon some bodies
than bare light and heat, but in others, where they meet with airy
dryness, and also sufficient rich moisture, they collect themselves and
soon kindle and create a transformation. The manner, however, of the
production of naphtha admits of a diversity of opinion on whether this
liquid substance that feeds the flame does not rather proceed from a
soil that is unctuous and productive of fire, as that of the province
of Babylon is, where the ground is so very hot, that oftentimes the
grains of barley leap up, and are thrown out, as if the violent
inflammation had made the earth throb; and in the extreme heats the
inhabitants are wont to sleep upon skins filled with water. Harpalus,
who was left governor of this country, and was desirous to adorn the
palace gardens and walks with Grecian plants, succeeded in raising all
but ivy, which the earth would not bear, but constantly killed. For
being a plant that loves a cold soil, the temper of this hot and fiery
earth was improper for it. But such digressions as these the impatient
reader will be more willing to pardon, if they are kept within a
moderate compass.
At the taking of Susa, Alexander found in the palace forty thousand
talents in money ready coined, besides an unspeakable quantity of other
furniture and treasure; amongst which was five thousand talents' worth
of Hermionian purple, that had been laid up there a hundred and ninety
years, and yet kept its color as fresh and lively as at first. The
reason of which, they say, is that in dyeing the purple they made use
of honey, and of white oil in the white tincture, both which after the
like space of time preserve the clearness and brightness of their
luster. Dinon also relates that the Persian kings had water fetched
from the Nile and the Danube, which they laid up in their treasuries as
a sort of testimony of the greatness of their power and universal
empire.
The entrance into Persia was through a most difficult country, and was
guarded by the noblest of the Persians, Darius himself having escaped
further. Alexander, however, chanced to find a guide in exact
correspondence with what the Pythia had foretold when he was a child,
that a lycus should conduct him into Persia. For by such an one, whose
father was a Lycian, and his mother a Persian, and who spoke both
languages, he was now led into the country, by a way something about,
yet without fetching any considerable compass. Here a great many of the
prisoners were put to the sword, of which himself gives this account,
that he commanded them to be killed in the belief that it would be for
his advantage. Nor was the money found here less, he says, than at
Susa, besides other movables and treasure, as much as ten thousand pair
of mules and five thousand camels could well carry away. Amongst other
things he happened to observe a large statue of Xerxes thrown
carelessly down to the ground in the confusion made by the multitude of
soldiers pressing; into the palace. He stood still, and accosting it as
if it had been alive, "Shall we," said he, "neglectfully pass thee by,
now thou art prostrate on the ground, because thou once invadedst
Greece, or shall we erect thee again in consideration of the greatness
of thy mind and thy other virtues?" But at last, after he had paused
some time, and silently considered with himself, he went on without
taking any further notice of it. In this place he took up his winter
quarters, and stayed four months to refresh his soldiers. It is related
that the first time he sat on the royal throne of Persia, under the
canopy of gold, Demaratus, the Corinthian, who was much attached to him
and had been one of his father's friends, wept, in an old man's manner,
and deplored the misfortune of those Creeks whom death had deprived of
the satisfaction of seeing Alexander seated on the throne of Darius.
From hence designing to march against Darius, before he set out, he
diverted himself with his officers at an entertainment of drinking and
other pastimes, and indulged so far as to let every one's mistress sit
by and drink with them. The most celebrated of them was Thais, an
Athenian, mistress of Ptolemy, who was afterwards king of Egypt. She,
partly as a sort of well-turned compliment to Alexander, partly out of
sport, as the drinking went on, at last was carried so far as to utter
a saying, not misbecoming her native country's character, though
somewhat too lofty for her own condition. She said it was indeed some
recompense for the toils she had undergone in following the camp all
over Asia, that she was that day treated in, and could insult over, the
stately palace of the Persian monarchs. But, she added, it would please
her much better, if while the king looked on, she might in sport, with
her own hands, set fire to the court of that Xerxes who reduced the
city of Athens to ashes, that it might be recorded to posterity, that
the women who followed Alexander had taken a severer revenge on the
Persians for the sufferings and affronts of Greece, than all the famed
commanders had been able to do by sea or land. What she said was
received with such universal liking and murmurs of applause, and so
seconded by the encouragement and eagerness of the company, that the
king himself, persuaded to be of the party, started from his seat, and
with a chaplet of flowers on his head, and a lighted torch in his hand,
led them the way, while they went after him in a riotous manner,
dancing and making loud cries about the place; which when the rest of
the Macedonians perceived, they also in great delight ran thither with
torches; for they hoped the burning and destruction of the royal palace
was an argument that he looked homeward, and had no design to reside
among the barbarians. Thus some writers give their account of this
action, while others say it was done deliberately; however, all agree
that he soon repented of it, and gave order to put out the fire.
Alexander was naturally most munificent, and grew more so as his
fortune increased, accompanying what he gave with that courtesy and
freedom, which, to speak truth, is necessary to make a benefit really
obliging. I will give a few instances of this kind. Ariston, the
captain of the Paeonians, having killed an enemy, brought his head to
show him, and told him that in his country, such a present was
recompensed with a cup of gold. "With an empty one," said Alexander,
smiling, "but I drink to you in this, which I give you full of wine."
Another time, as one of the common soldier was driving a mule laden
with some of the king's treasure, the beast grew tired, and the soldier
took it upon his own back, and began to march with it, till Alexander
seeing the man so overcharged, asked what was the matter; and when he
was informed, just as he was ready to lay down his burden for
weariness, "Do not faint now," said he to him, "but finish the journey,
and carry what you have there to your own tent for yourself." He was
always more displeased with those who would not accept of what he gave
than with those who begged of him. And therefore he wrote to Phocion,
that he would not own him for his friend any longer, if he refused his
presents. He had never given anything to Serapion, one of the youths
that played at ball with him, because he did not ask of him, till one
day, it coming to Serapion's turn to play, he still threw the ball to
others, and when the king asked him why he did not direct it to him,
"Because you do not ask for it," said he; which answer pleased him so,
that he was very liberal to him afterwards. One Proteas, a pleasant,
jesting, drinking fellow, having incurred his displeasure, got his
friends to intercede for him, and begged his pardon himself with tears,
which at last prevailed, and Alexander declared he was friends with
him. "I cannot believe it," said Proteas, "unless you first give me
some pledge of it." The king understood his meaning, and presently
ordered five talents to be given him. How magnificent he was in
enriching his friends, and those who attended on his person, appears by
a letter which Olympias wrote to him, where she tells him he should
reward and honor those about him in a more moderate way, For now," said
she, "you make them all equal to kings, you give them power and
opportunity of making many friends of their own, and in the meantime
you leave yourself destitute." She often wrote to him to this purpose,
and he never communicated her letters to anybody, unless it were one
which he opened when Hephaestion was by, whom he permitted, as his
custom was, to read it along with him; but then as soon as he had done,
he took off his ring, and set the seal upon Hephaestion's lips.
Mazaeus, who was the most considerable man in Darius's court, had a son
who was already governor of a province. Alexander bestowed another upon
him that was better; he, however, modestly refused, and told him,
instead of one Darius, he went the way to make many Alexanders. To
Parmenio he gave Bagoas's house, in which he found a wardrobe of
apparel worth more than a thousand talents. He wrote to Antipater,
commanding him to keep a life-guard about him for the security of his
person against conspiracies. To his mother he sent many presents, but
would never suffer her to meddle with matters of state or war, not
indulging her busy temper, and when she fell out with him upon this
account, he bore her ill-humor very patiently. Nay more, when he read a
long letter from Antipater, full of accusations against her,
"Antipater," he said, "does not know that one tear of a mother effaces
a thousand such letters as these."
But when he perceived his favorites grow so luxurious and extravagant
in their way of living and expenses, that Hagnon, the Teian, wore
silver nails in his shoes, that Leonnatus employed several camels, only
to bring him powder out of Egypt to use when he wrestled, and that
Philotas had hunting nets a hundred furlongs in length, that more used
precious ointment than plain oil when they went to bathe, and that they
carried about servants everywhere with them to rub them and wait upon
them in their chambers, he reproved them in gentle and reasonable
terms, telling them he wondered that they who had been engaged in so
many signal battles did not know by experience, that those who labor
sleep more sweetly and soundly than those who are labored for, and
could fail to see by comparing the Persians' manner of living with
their own, that it was the most abject and slavish condition to be
voluptuous, but the most noble arid royal to undergo pain and labor. He
argued with them further, how it was possible for anyone who pretended
to be a soldier, either to look well after his horse, or to keep his
armor bright and in good order, who thought it much to let his hands be
serviceable to what was nearest to him, his own body. "Are you still to
learn," said he, "that the end and perfection of our victories is to
avoid the vices and infirmities of those whom we subdue?" And to
strengthen his precepts by example, he applied himself now more
vigorously than ever to hunting and warlike expeditions, embracing all
opportunities of hardship and danger, insomuch that a Lacedaemonian,
who was there on an embassy to him, and chanced to be by when he
encountered with and mastered a huge lion, told him he had fought
gallantly with the beast, which of the two should be king. Craterus
caused a representation to be made of this adventure, consisting of the
lion and the dogs, of the king engaged with the lion, and himself
coming in to his assistance, all expressed in figures of brass, some of
which were by Lysippus, and the rest by Leochares; and had it dedicated
in the temple of Apollo at Delphi. Alexander exposed his person to
danger in this manner, with the object both of inuring himself, and
inciting others to the performance of brave and virtuous actions.
But his followers, who were grown rich, and consequently proud, longed
to indulge themselves in pleasure and idleness, and were weary of
marches and expeditions, and at last went on so far as to censure and
speak ill of him. All which at first he bore very patiently, saying, it
became a king well to do good to others, and be evil spoken of.
Meantime, on the smallest occasions that called for a show of kindness
to his friends, there was every indication on his part of tenderness
and respect. Hearing Peucestes was bitten by a bear, he wrote to him,
that he took it unkindly he should send others notice of it, and not
make him acquainted with it; "But now," said he, "since it is so, let
me know how you do, and whether any of your companions forsook you when
you were in danger, that I may punish them." He sent Hephaestion, who
was absent about some business, word how while they were fighting for
their diversion with an ichneumon, Craterus was by chance run through
both thighs with Perdiccas's javelin. And upon Peucestes's recovery
from a fit of sickness, he sent a letter of thanks to his physician
Alexippus. When Craterus was ill, he saw a vision in his sleep, after
which he offered sacrifices for his health, and bade him to do so
likewise. He wrote also to Pausanias, the physician, who was about to
purge Craterus with hellebore, partly out of an anxious concern for
him, and partly to give him a caution how he used that medicine. He was
so tender of his friends' reputation that he imprisoned Ephialtes and
Cissus, who brought him the first news of Harpalus's flight and
withdrawal from his service, as if they had falsely accused him. When
he sent the old and infirm soldiers home, Eurylochus, a citizen of
Aegae, got his name enrolled among the sick, though he ailed nothing,
which being discovered, he confessed he was in love with a young woman
named Telesippa, and wanted to go along with her to the seaside.
Alexander inquired to whom the woman belonged, and being told she was a
free courtesan, "I will assist you," said he to Eurylochus, "in your
amour, if your mistress be to be gained either by presents or
persuasions; but we must use no other means, because she is free-born."
It is surprising to consider upon what slight occasions he would write
letters to serve his friends. As when he wrote one in which he gave
order to search for a youth that belonged to Seleucus, who was run away
into Cilicia; and in another, thanked and commended Peucestes for
apprehending Nicon, a servant of Craterus; and in one to Megabyzus,
concerning a slave that had taken sanctuary in a temple, gave direction
that he should not meddle with him while he was there, but if he could
entice him out by fair means, then he gave him leave to seize him. It
is reported of him that when he first sat in judgment upon capital
causes, he would lay his hand upon one of his ears while the accuser
spoke, to keep it free and unprejudiced in behalf of the party accused.
But afterwards such a multitude of accusations were brought before him,
and so many proved true, that he lost his tenderness of heart, and gave
credit to those also that were false; and especially when anybody spoke
ill of him, he would be transported out of his reason, and show himself
cruel and inexorable, valuing his glory and reputation beyond his life
or kingdom.
He now, as we said, set forth to seek Darius, expecting he should be
put to the hazard of another battle, but heard he was taken and secured
by Bessus, upon which news he sent home the Thessalians, and gave them
a largess of two thousand talents over and above the pay that was due
to them. This long and painful pursuit of Darius, for in eleven days he
marched thirty-three hundred furlongs, harassed his soldiers so that
most of them were ready to give it up, chiefly for want of water. While
they were in this distress, it happened that some Macedonians who had
fetched water in skins upon their mules from a river they had found
out, came about noon to the place where Alexander was, and seeing him
almost choked with thirst, presently filled a helmet and offered it
him. He asked them to whom they were carrying the water; they told him
to their children, adding, that if his life were but saved, it was no
matter for them, they should be able well enough to repair that loss,
though they all perished. Then he took the helmet into his hands, and
looking round about, when he saw all those who were near him stretching
their heads out and looking, earnestly after the drink, he returned it
again with thanks without tasting a drop of it, "For," said he, "if I
alone should drink, the rest will be out of heart." The soldiers no
sooner took notice of his temperance and magnanimity upon this
occasion, but they one and all cried out to him to lead them forward
boldly, and began whipping on their horses. For whilst they had such a
king, they said they defied both weariness and thirst, and looked upon
themselves to be little less than immortal. But though they were all
equally cheerful and willing, yet not above threescore horse were able,
it is said, to keep up, and to fall in with Alexander upon the enemy's
camp, where they rode over abundance of gold and silver that lay
scattered about, and passing by a great many chariots full of women
that wandered here and there for want of drivers, they endeavored to
overtake the first of those that fled, in hopes to meet with Darius
among them. And at last, after much trouble, they found him lying in a
chariot, wounded all over with darts, just at the point of death.
However, he desired they would give him some drink, and when he had
drunk a little cold water, he told Polystratus, who gave it him, that
it had become the last extremity of his ill fortune, to receive
benefits and not be able to return them. "But Alexander," said he,
"whose kindness to my mother, my wife, and my children I hope the gods
will recompense, will doubtless thank you for your humanity to me. Tell
him, therefore, in token of my acknowledgment, I give him this right
hand," with which words he took hold of Polystratus's hand and died.
When Alexander came up to them, he showed manifest tokens of sorrow,
and taking off his own cloak, threw it upon the body to cover it. And
sometime afterwards, when Bessus was taken, he ordered him to be torn
in pieces in this manner. They fastened him to a couple of trees which
were bound down so as to meet, and then being let loose, with a great
force returned to their places, each of them carrying that part of the
body along with it that was tied to it. Darius's body was laid in
state, and sent to his mother with pomp suitable to his quality. His
brother Exathres, Alexander received into the number of his intimate
friends.
And now with the flower of his army he marched into Hyrcania, where he
saw a large bay of an open sea, apparently not much less than the
Euxine, with water, however, sweeter than that of other seas, but could
learn nothing of certainty concerning it, further than that in all
probability it seemed to him to be an arm issuing from the lake of
Maeotis. However, the naturalists were better informed of the truth,
and had given an account of it many years before Alexander's
expedition; that of four gulfs which out of the main sea enter into the
continent, this, known indifferently as the Caspian and as the
Hyrcanian sea, is the most northern. Here the barbarians, unexpectedly
meeting with those who led Bucephalas, took them prisoners, and carried
the horse away with them, at which Alexander was so much vexed, that he
sent a herald to let them know he would put them all to the sword, men,
women, and children, without mercy, if they did not restore him. But on
their doing so, and at the same time surrendering their cities into his
hands, he not only treated them kindly, but also paid a ramsom for his
horse to those who took him.
From hence he marched into Parthia, where not having much to do, he
first put on the barbaric dress, perhaps with the view of making the
work of civilizing them the easier, as nothing gains more upon men than
a conformity to their fashions and customs. Or it may have been as a
first trial, whether the Macedonians might be brought to adore him, as
the Persians did their kings, by accustoming them by little and little
to bear with the alteration of his rule and course of life in other
things. However, he followed not the Median fashion, which was
altogether foreign and uncouth, and adopted neither the trousers nor
the sleeved vest, nor the tiara for the head, but taking a middle way
between the Persian mode and the Macedonian, so contrived his habit
that it was not so flaunting as the one, and yet more pompous and
magnificent than the other. At first he wore this habit only when he
conversed with the barbarians, or within doors, among his intimate
friends and companions, but afterwards he appeared in it abroad, when
he rode out, and at public audiences, a sight which the Macedonians
beheld with grief; but they so respected his other virtues and good
qualities, that they felt it reasonable in some things to gratify his
fancies and his passion of glory, in pursuit of which he hazarded
himself so far, that, besides his other adventures, he had but lately
been wounded in the leg by an arrow, which had so shattered the
shank-bone that splinters were taken out. And on another occasion he
received a violent blow with a stone upon the nape of the neck, which
dimmed his sight for a good while afterwards. And yet all this could
not hinder him from exposing himself freely to any dangers, insomuch
that he passed the river Orexartes, which he took to be the Tanais, and
putting the Scythians to flight, followed them above a hundred
furlongs, though suffering all the time from a diarrhea.
Here many affirm that the Amazon came to give him a visit. So
Clitarchus, Polyclitus, Onesicritus, Antigenes, and Ister, tell us. But
Aristobulus and Chares, who held the office of reporter of requests,
Ptolemy and Anticlides, Philon the Theban, Philip of Theangela,
Hecataeus the Eretrian, Philip the Chalcidian, and Duris the Samian,
say it is wholly a fiction. And truly Alexander himself seems to
confirm the latter statement, for in a letter in which he gives
Antipater an account of all that happened, he tells him that the king
of Scythia offered him his daughter in marriage, but makes no mention
at all of the Amazon. And many years after, when Onesicritus read this
story in his fourth book to Lysimachus, who then reigned, the king
laughed quietly and asked, "Where could I have been at that time?"
But it signifies little to Alexander whether this be credited or no.
Certain it is, that apprehending the Macedonians would be weary of
pursuing the war, he left the greater part of them in their quarters;
and having with him in Hyrcania the choice of his men only, amounting
to twenty thousand foot, and three thousand horse, he spoke to them to
this effect: That hitherto the barbarians had seen them no otherwise
than as it were in a dream, and if they should think of returning when
they had only alarmed Asia, and not conquered it, their enemies would
set upon them as upon so many women. However, he told them he would
keep none of them with him against their will, they might go if they
pleased; he should merely enter his protest, that when on his way to
make the Macedonians the masters of the world, he was left alone with a
few friends and volunteers. This is almost word for word, as he wrote
in a letter to Antipater, where he adds, that when he had thus spoken
to them, they all cried out, they would go along with him whithersoever
it was his pleasure to lead them. After succeeding with these, it was
no hard matter for him to bring over the multitude, which easily
followed the example of their betters. Now, also, he more and more
accommodated himself in his way of living to that of the natives, and
tried to bring them, also, as near as he could to the Macedonian
customs, wisely considering that whilst he was engaged in an expedition
which would carry him far from thence, it would be wiser to depend upon
the goodwill which might arise from intermixture and association as a
means of maintaining tranquillity, than upon force and compulsion. In
order to this, he chose out thirty thousand boys, whom he put under
masters to teach them the Greek tongue, and to train them up to arms in
the Macedonian discipline. As for his marriage with Roxana, whose
youthfulness and beauty had charmed him at a drinking entertainment,
where he first happened to see her, taking part in a dance, it was,
indeed, a love affair, yet it seemed at the same time to be conducive
to the object he had in hand. For it gratified the conquered people to
see him choose a wife from among themselves, and it made them feel the
most lively affection for him, to find that in the only passion which
he, the most temperate of men, was overcome by, he yet forbore till he
could obtain her in a lawful and honorable way.
Noticing, also, that among his chief friends and favorites, Hephaestion
most approved all that he did, and complied with and imitated him in
his change of habits, while Craterus continued strict in the
observation of the customs and fashions of his own country, he made it
his practice to employ the first in all transactions with the Persians,
and the latter when he had to do with the Greeks or Macedonians. And in
general he showed more affection for Hephaestion, and more respect for
Craterus; Hephaestion, as he used to say, being Alexander's, and
Craterus the king's friend. And so these two friends always bore in
secret a grudge to each other, and at times quarreled openly, so much
so, that once in India they drew upon one another, and were proceeding
in good earnest, with their friends on each side to second them, when
Alexander rode up and publicly reproved Hephaestion, calling him fool
and madman, not to be sensible that without his favor he was nothing.
He rebuked Craterus, also, in private, severely, and then causing them
both to come into his presence, he reconciled them, at the same time
swearing by Ammon and the rest of the gods, that he loved them two
above all other men, but if ever he perceived them fall out again he
would be sure to put both of them to death, or at least the aggressor.
After which they neither ever did or said anything, so much as in jest,
to offend one another.
There was scarcely anyone who had greater repute among the Macedonians
than Philotas, the son of Parmenio. For besides that he was valiant and
able to endure any fatigue of war, he was also next to Alexander
himself the most munificent, and the greatest lover of his friends, one
of whom asking him for some money, he commanded his steward to give it
him; and when he told him he had not wherewith, "Have you not any plate
then," said he, "or any clothes of mine to sell?" But he carried his
arrogance and his pride of wealth and his habits of display and luxury
to a degree of assumption unbecoming a private man, and affecting all
the loftiness without succeeding in showing any of the grace or
gentleness of true greatness, by this mistaken and spurious majesty he
gained so much envy and ill-will, that Parmenio would sometimes tell
him, "My son, to be not quite so great would be better." For he had
long before been complained of, and accused to Alexander. Particularly
when Darius was defeated in Cilicia, and an immense booty was taken at
Damascus, among the rest of the prisoners who were brought into the
camp, there was one Antigone of Pydna, a very handsome woman, who fell
to Philotas's share. The young man one day in his cups, in the
vaunting, outspoken, soldier's manner, declared to his mistress, that
all the great actions were performed by him and his father, the glory
and benefit of which, he said, together with the title of king, the boy
Alexander reaped and enjoyed by their means. She could not hold, but
discovered what he had said to one of her acquaintance, and he, as is
usual in such cases, to another, till at last the story came to the
ears of Craterus, who brought the woman secretly to the king. When
Alexander had heard what she had to say, he commanded her to continue
her intrigue with Philotas, and give him an account from time to time
of all that should fall from him to this purpose. He thus unwittingly
caught in a snare, to gratify some times a fit of anger, sometimes a
mere love of vainglory, let himself utter numerous foolish, indiscreet
speeches against the king in Antigone's hearing, of which though
Alexander was informed and convinced by strong evidence, yet he would
take no notice of it at present, whether it was that he confided in
Parmenio's affection and loyalty, or that he apprehended their
authority and interest in the army. But about this time one Limnus, a
Macedonian of Chalastra, conspired against Alexander's life, and
communicated his design to a youth whom he was fond of, named
Nicomachus, inviting him to be of the party. But he not relishing the
thing, revealed it to his brother Balinus, who immediately addressed
himself to Philotas, requiring him to introduce them both to Alexander,
to whom they had something of great moment to impart which very nearly
concerned him. But he, for what reason is uncertain, went not with
them, professing that the king was engaged with affairs of more
importance. And when they had urged him a second time, and were still
slighted by him, they applied themselves to another, by whose means
being admitted into Alexander's presence, they first told about
Limnus's conspiracy, and by the way let Philotas's negligence appear,
who had twice disregarded their application to him. Alexander was
greatly incensed, and on finding that Limnus had defended himself, and
had been killed by the soldier who was sent to seize him, he was still
more discomposed, thinking he had thus lost the means of detecting the
plot. As soon as his displeasure against Philotas began to appear,
presently all his old enemies showed themselves, and said openly, the
king was too easily imposed on, to imagine that one so inconsiderable
as Limnus, a Chalastrian, should of his own head undertake such an
enterprise; that in all likelihood he was but subservient to the
design, an instrument that was moved by some greater spring; that those
ought to be more strictly examined about the matter whose interest it
was so much to conceal it. When they had once gained the king's ear for
insinuations of this sort, they went on to show a thousand grounds of
suspicion against Philotas, till at last they prevailed to have him
seized and put to the torture, which was done in the presence of the
principal officers, Alexander himself being placed behind some tapestry
to understand what passed. Where, when he heard in what a miserable
tone, and with what abject submissions Philotas applied himself to
Hephaestion, he broke out, it is said, in this manner: "Are you so
mean-spirited and effeminate, Philotas, and yet can engage in so
desperate a design?" After his death, he presently sent into Media, and
put also Parmenio, his father, to death, who had done brave service
under Philip, and was the only man, of his older friends and
counselors, who had encouraged Alexander to invade Asia. Of three sons
whom he had had in the army, he had already lost two, and now was
himself put to death with the third. These actions rendered Alexander
an object of terror to many of his friends, and chiefly to Antipater,
who, to strengthen himself, sent messengers privately to treat for an
alliance with the Aetolians, who stood in fear of Alexander, because
they had destroyed the town of the Oeniadae; on being informed of
which, Alexander had said the children of the Oeniadae need not revenge
their fathers' quarrel, for he would himself take care to punish the
Aetolians.
Not long after this happened the deplorable end of Clitus, which to
those who barely hear the matter-of-fact, may seem more inhuman than
that of Philotas; but if we consider the story with its circumstance of
time, and weigh the cause, we shall find it to have occurred rather
through a sort of mischance of the king's, whose anger and
over-drinking offered an occasion to the evil genius of Clitus. The
king had a present of Grecian fruit brought him from the sea-coast,
which was so fresh and beautiful, that he was surprised at it, and
called Clitus to him to see it, and to give him a share of it. Clitus
was then sacrificing, but he immediately left off and came, followed by
three sheep, on whom the drink-offering had been already poured
preparatory to sacrificing them. Alexander, being informed of this,
told his diviners, Aristander and Cleomantis the Lacedaemonian, and
asked them what it meant; on whose assuring him, it was an ill omen, he
commanded them in all haste to offer sacrifices for Clitus's safety,
forasmuch as three days before he himself had seen a strange vision in
his sleep, of Clitus all in mourning, sitting by Parmenio's sons who
were dead. Clitus, however, stayed not to finish his devotions, but
came straight to supper with the king, who had sacrificed to Castor and
Pollux. And when they had drunk pretty hard, some of the company fell a
singing the verses of one Pranichus, or as others say of Pierion, which
were made upon those captains who had been lately worsted by the
barbarians, on purpose to disgrace and turn them to ridicule. This gave
offense to the older men who were there, and they upbraided both the
author and the singer of the verses, though Alexander and the younger
men about him were much amused to hear them, and encouraged them to go
on, till at last Clitus, who had drunk too much, and was besides of a
froward and willful temper, was so nettled that he could hold no
longer, saying, it was not well done to expose the Macedonians so
before the barbarians and their enemies, since though it was their
unhappiness to be overcome, yet they were much better men than those
who laughed at them. And when Alexander remarked, that Clitus was
pleading his own cause, giving cowardice the name of misfortune, Clitus
started up; "This cowardice, as you are pleased to term it," said he to
him, "saved the life of a son of the gods, when in flight from
Spithridates's sword; and it is by the expense of Macedonian blood, and
by these wounds, that you are now raised to such a height, as to be
able to disown your father Philip, and call yourself the Son of Ammon."
"Thou base fellow," said Alexander, who was now thoroughly exasperated,
"dost thou think to utter these things everywhere of me, and stir up
the Macedonians to sedition, and not be punished for it?" "We are
sufficiently punished already," answered Clitus, "if this be the
recompense of our toils, and we must esteem theirs a happy lot, who
have not lived to see their countrymen scourged with Median rods, and
forced to sue to the Persians to have access to their king." While he
talked thus at random, and those near Alexander got up from their seats
and began to revile him in turn, the elder men did what they could to
compose the disorder. Alexander, in the meantime turning about to
Xenodochus, the Cardian, and Artemius, the Colophonian, asked them if
they were not of opinion that the Greeks, in comparison with the
Macedonians, behaved themselves like so many demi-gods among wild
beasts. But Clitus for all this would not give over, desiring Alexander
to speak out if he had anything more to say, or else why did he invite
men who were freeborn and accustomed to speak their minds openly
without restraint, to sup with him. He had better live and converse
with barbarians and slaves who would not scruple to bow the knee to his
Persian girdle and his white tunic. Which words so provoked Alexander,
that not able to suppress his anger any longer, he threw one of the
apples that lay upon the table at him, and hit him, and then looked
about for his sword. But Aristophanes, one of his life-guard, had hid
that out of the way, and others came about him and besought him, but in
vain. For breaking from them, he called out aloud to his guards in the
Macedonian language, which was a certain sign of some great disturbance
in him, and commanded a trumpeter to sound, giving him a blow with his
clenched fist for not instantly obeying him; though afterwards the same
man was commended for disobeying an order which would have put the
whole army into tumult and confusion. Clitus still refusing to yield,
was with much trouble forced by his friends out of the room. But he
came in again immediately at another door, very irreverently and
confidently singing the verses out of Euripides's Andromache, --
In Greece, alas! how ill things ordered are!
Upon this, at last, Alexander, snatching a spear from one of the
soldiers, met Clitus as he was coming forward and was putting by the
curtain that hung before the door, and ran him through the body. He
fell at once with a cry and a groan. Upon which the king's anger
immediately vanishing, he came perfectly to himself, and when he saw
his friends about him all in a profound silence, he pulled the spear
out of the dead body, and would have thrust it into his own throat, if
the guards had not held his hands, and by main force carried him away
into his chamber, where all that night and the next day he wept
bitterly, till being quite spent with lamenting and exclaiming, he lay
as it were speechless, only fetching deep sighs. His friends
apprehending some harm from his silence, broke into the room, but he
took no notice of what any of them said, till Aristander putting him in
mind of the vision he had seen concerning Clitus, and the prodigy that
followed, as if all had come to pass by an unavoidable fatality, he
then seemed to moderate his grief. They now brought Callisthenes, the
philosopher, who was the near friend of Aristotle, and Anaxarchus of
Abdera, to him. Callisthenes used moral language, and gentle and
soothing means, hoping to find access for words of reason, and get a
hold upon the passion. But Anaxarchus, who had always taken a course of
his own in philosophy, and had a name for despising and slighting his
contemporaries, as soon as he came in, cried out aloud, "Is this the
Alexander whom the whole world looks to, lying here weeping like a
slave, for fear of the censure and reproach of men, to whom he himself
ought to be a law and measure of equity, if he would use the right his
conquests have given him as supreme lord and governor of all, and not
be the victim of a vain and idle opinion? Do not you know," said he,
"that Jupiter is represented to have Justice and Law on each hand of
him, to signify that all the actions of a conqueror are lawful and
just?" With these and the like speeches, Anaxarchus indeed allayed the
king's grief, but withal corrupted his character, rendering him more
audacious and lawless than he had been. Nor did he fail by these means
to insinuate himself into his favor, and to make Callisthenes's
company, which at all times, because of his austerity, was not very
acceptable, more uneasy and disagreeable to him.
It happened that these two philosophers meeting at an entertainment,
where conversation turned on the subject of climate and the temperature
of the air, Callisthenes joined with their opinion, who held that those
countries were colder, and the winter sharper there than in Greece.
Anaxarchus would by no means allow this, but argued against it with
some heat. "Surely," said Callisthenes, "you cannot but admit this
country to be colder than Greece, for there you used to have but one
threadbare cloak to keep out the coldest winter, and here you have
three good warm mantles one over another." This piece of raillery
irritated Anaxarchus and the other pretenders to learning, and the
crowd of flatterers in general could not endure to see Callisthenes so
much admired and followed by the youth, and no less esteemed by the
older men for his orderly life, and his gravity, and for being
contented with his condition; all confirming what he had professed
about the object he had in his journey to Alexander, that it was only
to get his countrymen recalled from banishment, and to rebuild and
repeople his native town. Besides the envy which his great reputation
raised, he also, by his own deportment, gave those who wished him ill,
opportunity to do him mischief. For when he was invited to public
entertainments, he would most times refuse to come, or if he were
present at any, he put a constraint upon the company by his austerity
and silence, which seemed to intimate his disapproval of what he saw.
So that Alexander himself said in application to him,
That vain pretense to wisdom I detest,
Where a man's blind to his own interest.
Being with many more invited to sup with the king, he was called upon
when the cup came to him, to make an oration extempore in praise of the
Macedonians; and he did it with such a flow of eloquence, that all who
heard it rose from their seats to clap and applaud him, and threw their
garland upon him; only Alexander told him out of Euripides,
I wonder not that you have spoke so well,
'Tis easy on good subjects to excel.
"Therefore," said he, "if you will show the force of your eloquence,
tell my Macedonians their faults, and dispraise them, that by hearing
their errors they may learn to he better for the future." Callisthenes
presently obeyed him, retracting all he had said before, and,
inveighing against the Macedonians with great freedom, added, that
Philip thrived and grew powerful, chiefly by the discord of the
Grecians, applying this verse to him:--
In civil strife e'en villains rise to fame;
which so offended the Macedonians, that he was odious to them ever
after. And Alexander said, that instead of his eloquence, he had only
made his ill-will appear in what he had spoken. Hermippus assures us,
that one Stroebus, a servant whom Callisthenes kept to read to him,
gave this account of these passages afterwards to Aristotle; and that
when he perceived the king grow more and more averse to him, two or
three times, as he was going away, he repeated the verses, --
Death seiz'd at last on great Patroclus too,
Though he in virtue far exceeded you.
Not without reason, therefore, did Aristotle give this character of
Callisthenes, that he was, indeed, a powerful speaker, but had no
judgment. He acted certainly a true philosopher's part in positively
refusing, as he did, to pay adoration; and by speaking out openly
against that which the best and gravest of the Macedonians only repined
at in secret, he delivered the Grecians and Alexander himself from a
great disgrace, when the practice was given up. But he ruined himself
by it, because he went too roughly to work, as if he would have forced
the king to that which he should have effected by reason and
persuasion. Chares of Mitylene writes, that at a banquet, Alexander,
after he had drunk, reached the cup to one of his friends, who, on
receiving it, rose up towards the domestic altar, and when he had
drunk, first adored, and then kissed Alexander, and afterwards laid
himself down at the table with the rest. Which they all did one after
another, till it came to Callisthenes's turn, who took the cup and
drank, while the king who was engaged in conversation with Hephaestion
was not observing, and then came and offered to kiss him. But
Demetrius, surnamed Phidon, interposed, saying, "Sir, by no means let
him kiss you, for he only of us all has refused to adore you;" upon
which the king declined it, and all the concern Callisthenes showed
was, that he said aloud, "Then I go away with a kiss less than the
rest." The displeasure he incurred by this action procured credit for
Hephaestion's declaration that he had broken his word to him in not
paying the king the same veneration that others did, as he had
faithfully promised to do. And to finish his disgrace, a number of such
men as Lysimachus and Hagnon now came in with their asseverations that
the sophist went about everywhere boasting of his resistance to
arbitrary power, and that the young men all ran after him, and honored
him as the only man among so many thousands who had the courage to
preserve his liberty. Therefore when Hermolaus's conspiracy came to be
discovered, the charges which his enemies brought against him were the
more easily believed, particularly that when the young man asked him
what he should do to be the most illustrious person on earth, he told
him the readiest way was to kill him who was already so; and that to
incite him to commit the deed, he bade him not be awed by the golden
couch, but remember Alexander was a man equally infirm and vulnerable
as another. However, none of Hermolaus's accomplices, in the utmost
extremity, made any mention of Callisthenes's being engaged in the
design. Nay, Alexander himself, in the letters which he wrote soon
after to Craterus, Attalus, and Alcetas, tells them that the young men
who were put to the torture, declared they had entered into the
conspiracy of themselves, without any others being privy to, or guilty
of it. But yet afterwards, in a letter to Antipater, he accuses
Callisthenes. "The young men," he says, "were stoned to death by the
Macedonians, but for the sophist," (meaning Callisthenes,) "I will take
care to punish him with them too who sent him to me, and who harbor
those in their cities who conspire against my life," an unequivocal
declaration against Aristotle, in whose house Callisthenes, for his
relationship's sake, being his niece Hero's son, had been educated. His
death is variously related. Some say he was hanged by Alexander's
orders; others, that he died of sickness in prison; but Chares writes
he was kept in chains seven months after he was apprehended, on purpose
that he might be proceeded against in full council, when Aristotle
should be present; and that growing very fat, and contracting a disease
of vermin, he there died, about the time that Alexander was wounded in
India, in the country of the Malli Oxydracae, all which came to pass
afterwards.
For to go on in order, Demaratus of Corinth, now quite an old man, had
made a great effort, about this time, to pay Alexander a visit; and
when he had seen him, said he pitied the misfortune of those Grecians,
who were so unhappy as to die before they had beheld Alexander seated
on the throne of Darius. But he did not long enjoy the benefit of the
king's kindness for him, any otherwise than that soon after falling
sick and dying, he had a magnificent funeral, and the army raised him a
monument of earth, fourscore cubits high, and of a vast circumference.
His ashes were conveyed in a very rich chariot, drawn by four horses,
to the seaside.
Alexander now intent upon his expedition into India, took notice that
his soldiers were so charged with booty that it hindered their
marching. Therefore, at break of day, as soon as the baggage wagons
were laden, first he set fire to his own, and to those of his friends,
and then commanded those to be burnt which belonged to the rest of the
army. An act which in the deliberation of it had seemed more dangerous
and difficult than it proved in the execution, with which few were
dissatisfied; for most of the soldiers, as if they had been inspired,
uttering loud outcries and warlike shoutings, supplied one another with
what was absolutely necessary, and burnt and destroyed all that was
superfluous, the sight of which redoubled Alexander's zeal and
eagerness for his design. And, indeed, he was now grown very severe and
inexorable in punishing those who committed any fault. For he put
Menander, one of his friends, to death, for deserting a fortress where
he had placed him in garrison, and shot Orsodates, one of the
barbarians who revolted from him, with his own hand.
At this time a sheep happened to yean a lamb, with the perfect shape
and color of a tiara upon the head, and testicles on each side; which
portent Alexander regarded with such dislike, that he immediately
caused his Babylonian priests, whom he usually carried about with him
for such purposes, to purify him, and told his friends he was not so
much concerned for his own sake as for theirs, out of an apprehension
that after his death the divine power might suffer his empire to fall
into the hands of some degenerate, impotent person. But this fear was
soon removed by a wonderful thing that happened not long after, and was
thought to presage better. For Proxenus, a Macedonian, who was the
chief of those who looked to the king's furniture, as he was breaking
up the ground near the river Oxus, to set up the royal pavilion,
discovered a spring of a fat, oily liquor, which after the top was
taken off, ran pure, clear oil, without any difference either of taste
or smell, having exactly the same smoothness and brightness, and that,
too, in a country where no olives grew. The water, indeed, of the river
Oxus, is said to be the smoothest to the feeling of all waters, and to
leave a gloss on the skins of those who bathe themselves in it.
Whatever might be the cause, certain it is that Alexander was
wonderfully pleased with it, as appears by his letters to Antipater,
where he speaks of it as one of the most remarkable presages that God
had ever favored him with. The diviners told him it signified his
expedition would be glorious in the event, but very painful, and
attended with many difficulties; for oil, they said, was bestowed on
mankind by God as a refreshment of their labors.
Nor did they judge amiss, for he exposed himself to many hazards in the
battles which he fought, and received very severe wounds, but the
greatest loss in his army was occasioned through the unwholesomeness of
the air, and the want of necessary provisions. But he still applied
himself to overcome fortune and whatever opposed him, by resolution and
virtue, and thought nothing impossible to true intrepidity, and on the
other hand nothing secure or strong for cowardice. It is told of him
that when he besieged Sisimithres, who held an inaccessible,
impregnable rock against him, and his soldiers began to despair of
taking it, he asked Oxyartes whether Sisimithres was a man of courage,
who assuring him he was the greatest coward alive, "Then you tell me,"
said he, "that the place may easily be taken, since what is in command
of it is weak." And in a little time he so terrified Sisimithres, that
he took it without any difficulty. At an attack which he made upon such
another precipitous place with some of his Macedonian soldiers, he
called to one whose name was Alexander, and told him, he at any rate
must fight bravely, if it were but for his name's sake. The youth
fought gallantly and was killed in the action, at which he was sensibly
afflicted. Another time, seeing his men march slowly and unwillingly to
the siege of the place called Nysa, because of a deep river between
them and the town, he advanced before them, and standing upon the bank,
"What a miserable man," said he, "am I, that I have not learned to
swim!" and then was hardly dissuaded from endeavoring to pass it upon
his shield. Here, after the assault was over, the ambassadors who from
several towns which he had blocked up, came to submit to him and make
their peace, were surprised to find him still in his armor, without
anyone in waiting or attendance upon him, and when at last some one
brought him a cushion, he made the eldest of them, named Acuphis, take
it and sit down upon it. The old man, marveling at his magnanimity and
courtesy, asked him what his countrymen should do to merit his
friendship. "I would have them," said Alexander, "choose you to govern
them, and send one hundred of the most worthy men among them to remain
with me as hostages." Acuphis laughed and answered, "I shall govern
them with more ease, Sir, if I send you so many of the worst, rather
than the best of my subjects."
The extent of king Taxiles's dominions in India was thought to be as
large as Egypt, abounding in good pastures, and producing beautiful
fruits. The king himself had the reputation of a wise man, and at his
first interview with Alexander, he spoke to him in these terms: "To
what purpose," said he, "should we make war upon one another, if the
design of your coming into these parts be not to rob us of our water or
our necessary food, which are the only things that wise men are
indispensably obliged to fight for? As for other riches and
possessions, as they are accounted in the eye of the world, if I am
better provided of them than you, I am ready to let you share with me;
but if fortune has been more liberal to you than me, I have no
objection to be obliged to you." This discourse pleased Alexander so
much, that embracing him, "Do you think," said he to him, "your kind
words and courteous behavior will bring you off in this interview
without a contest? No, you shall not escape so. I shall contend and do
battle with you so far, that how obliging soever you are, you shall not
have the better of me." Then receiving some presents from him, he
returned him others of greater value, and to complete his bounty, gave
him in money ready coined one thousand talents; at which his old
friends were much displeased, but it gained him the hearts of many of
the barbarians. But the best soldiers of the Indians now entering into
the pay of several of the cities, undertook to defend them, and did it
so bravely, that they put Alexander to a great deal of trouble, till at
last, after a capitulation, upon the surrender of the place, he fell
upon them as they were marching away, and put them all to the sword.
This one breach of his word remains as a blemish upon his achievements
in war, which he otherwise had performed throughout with that justice
and honor that became a king. Nor was he less incommoded by the Indian
philosophers, who inveighed against those princes who joined his party,
and solicited the free nations to oppose him. He took several of these
also, and caused them to be hanged.
Alexander, in his own letters, has given us an account of his war with
Porus. He says the two armies were separated by the river Hydaspes, on
whose opposite bank Porus continually kept his elephants in order of
battle, with their heads towards their enemies, to guard the passage;
that he, on the other hand, made every day a great noise and clamor in
his camp, to dissipate the apprehensions of the barbarians; that one
stormy dark night he passed the river, at a distance from the place
where the enemy lay, into a little island, with part of his foot, and
the best of his horse. Here there fell a most violent storm of rain,
accompanied with lightning and whirlwinds, and seeing some of his men
burnt and dying with the lightning, he nevertheless quitted the island
and made over to the other side. The Hydaspes, he says, now after the
storm, was so swollen and grown so rapid, as to have made a breach in
the bank, and a part of the river was now pouring in here, so that when
he came across, it was with difficulty he got a footing on the land,
which was slippery and unsteady, and exposed to the force of the
currents on both sides. This is the occasion when he is related to have
said, "O ye Athenians, will ye believe what dangers I incur to merit
your praise?" This, however, is Onesicritus's story. Alexander says,
here the men left their boats, and passed the breach in their armor, up
to the breast in water, and that then he advanced with his horse about
twenty furlongs before his foot, concluding that if the enemy charged
him with their cavalry, he should be too strong for them; if with their
foot, his own would come up time enough to his assistance. Nor did he
judge amiss; for being charged by a thousand horse, and sixty armed
chariots, which advanced before their main body, he took all the
chariots, and killed four hundred horse upon the place. Porus, by this
time guessing that Alexander himself had crossed over, came on with his
whole army, except a party which he left behind, to hold the rest of
the Macedonians in play, if they should attempt to pass the river. But
he, apprehending the multitude of the enemy, and to avoid the shock of
their elephants, dividing his forces, attacked their left wing himself,
and commanded Coenus to fall upon the right, which was performed with
good success. For by this means both wings being broken, the enemies
fell back in their retreat upon the center, and crowded in upon their
elephants. There rallying, they fought a hand to hand battle, and it
was the eighth hour of the day before they were entirely defeated. This
description the conqueror himself has left us in his own epistles.
Almost all the historians agree in relating that Porus was four cubits
and a span high, and that when he was upon his elephant, which was of
the largest size, his stature and bulk were so answerable, that he
appeared to be proportionably mounted, as a horseman on his horse. This
elephant, during the whole battle, gave many singular proofs of
sagacity and of particular care of the king, whom as long as he was
strong and in a condition to fight, he defended with great courage,
repelling those who set upon him; and as soon as he perceived him
overpowered with his numerous wounds and the multitude of darts that
were thrown at him, to prevent his falling off, he softly knelt down
and began to draw out the darts with his proboscis. When Porus was
taken prisoner; and Alexander asked him how he expected to be used, he
answered, "As a king." For that expression, he said, when the same
question was put to him a second time, comprehended everything. And
Alexander, accordingly, not only suffered him to govern his own kingdom
as satrap under himself, but gave him also the additional territory of
various independent tribes whom he subdued, a district which, it is
said, contained fifteen several nations and five thousand considerable
towns, besides abundance of villages. To another government, three
times as large as this, he appointed Philip, one of his friends.
Some little time after the battle with Porus, Bucephalas died, as most
of the authorities state, under cure of his wounds, or as Onesicritus
says, of fatigue and age, being thirty years old. Alexander was no less
concerned at his death, than if he had lost an old companion or an
intimate friend, and built a city, which he named Bucephalia, in memory
of him, on the bank of the river Hydaspes. He also, we are told, built
another city, and called it after the name of a favorite dog, Peritas,
which he had brought up himself. So Sotion assures us he was informed
by Potamon of Lesbos.
But this last combat with Porus took off the edge of the Macedonians'
courage, and stayed their further progress into India. For having found
it hard enough to defeat an enemy who brought but twenty thousand foot
and two thousand horse into the field, they thought they had reason to
oppose Alexander's design of leading them on to pass the Ganges too,
which they were told was thirty-two furlongs broad and a hundred
fathoms deep, and the banks on the further side covered with multitudes
of enemies. For they were told that the kings of the Gandaritans and
Praesians expected them there with eighty thousand horse, two hundred
thousand foot, eight thousand armed chariots, and six thousand fighting
elephants. Nor was this a mere vain report, spread to discourage them.
For Androcottus, who not long after reigned in those parts, made a
present of five hundred elephants at once to Seleucus, and with an army
of six hundred thousand men subdued all India. Alexander at first was
so grieved and enraged at his men's reluctancy, that he shut himself up
in his tent, and threw himself upon the ground, declaring, if they
would not pass the Ganges, he owed them no thanks for anything they had
hitherto done, and that to retreat now, was plainly to confess himself
vanquished. But at last the reasonable persuasions of his friends and
the cries and lamentations of his soldiers, who in a suppliant manner
crowded about the entrance of his tent, prevailed with him to think of
returning. Yet he could not refrain from leaving behind him various
deceptive memorials of his expedition, to impose upon after-times, and
to exaggerate his glory with posterity, such as arms larger than were
really worn, and mangers for horses, with bits of bridles above the
usual size, which he set up, and distributed in several places. He
erected altars, also, to the gods, which the kings of the Praesians
even in our time do honor to when they pass the river, and offer
sacrifice upon them after the Grecian manner. Androcottus, then a boy,
saw Alexander there, and is said often afterwards to have been heard to
say, that he missed but little of making himself master of those
countries; their king, who then reigned, was so hated and despised for
the viciousness of his life, and the meanness of his extraction.
Alexander was now eager to see the ocean. To which purpose he caused a
great many row-boats and rafts to be built, in which he fell gently
down the rivers at his leisure, yet so that his navigation was neither
unprofitable nor inactive. For by several descents upon the banks, he
made himself master of the fortified towns, and consequently of the
country on both sides. But at a siege of a town of the Mallians, who
have the repute of being the bravest people of India, he ran in great
danger of his life. For having beaten off the defendants with showers
of arrows, he was the first man that mounted the wall by a scaling
ladder, which, as soon as he was up, broke and left him almost alone,
exposed to the darts which the barbarians threw at him in great numbers
from below. In this distress, turning himself as well as he could, he
leaped down in the midst of his enemies, and had the good fortune to
light upon his feet. The brightness and clattering of his armor when he
came to the ground, made the barbarians think they saw rays of light,
or some bright phantom playing before his body, which frightened them
so at first, that they ran away and dispersed. Till seeing him seconded
but by two of his guards, they fell upon him hand to hand, and some,
while he bravely defended himself, tried to wound him through his armor
with their swords and spears. And one who stood further off, drew a bow
with such just strength, that the arrow finding its way through his
cuirass, stuck in his ribs under the breast. This stroke was so
violent, that it made him give back, and set one knee to the ground,
upon which the man ran up with his drawn scimitar, thinking to dispatch
him, and had done it, if Peucestes and Limnaeus had not interposed, who
were both wounded, Limnaeus mortally, but Peucestes stood his ground,
while Alexander killed the barbarian. But this did not free him from
danger; for besides many other wounds, at last he received so weighty a
stroke of a club upon his neck, that he was forced to lean his body
against the wall, still, however, facing the enemy. At this extremity,
the Macedonians made their way in and gathered round him. They took him
up, just as he was fainting away, having lost all sense of what was
done near him, and conveyed him to his tent, upon which it was
presently reported all over the camp that he was dead. But when they
had with great difficulty and pains sawed off the shaft of the arrow,
which was of wood, and so with much trouble got off his cuirass, they
came to cut out the head of it, which was three fingers broad and four
long, and stuck fast in the bone. During the operation, he was taken
with almost mortal swoonings, but when it was out he came to himself
again. Yet though all danger was past, he continued very weak, and
confined himself a great while to a regular diet and the method of his
cure, till one day hearing the Macedonians clamoring outside in their
eagerness to see him, he took his cloak and went out. And having
sacrificed to the gods, without more delay he went on board again, and
as he coasted along, subdued a great deal of the country on both sides,
and several considerable cities.
In this voyage, he took ten of the Indian philosophers prisoners, who
had been most active in persuading Sabbas to revolt, and had caused the
Macedonians a great deal of trouble. These men, called Gymnosophists,
were reputed to be extremely ready and succinct in their answers, which
he made trial of, by putting difficult questions to them, letting them
know that those whose answers were not pertinent, should be put to
death, of which he made the eldest of them judge. The first being asked
which he thought most numerous, the dead or the living, answered, "The
living, because those who are dead are not at all." Of the second, he
desired to know whether the earth or the sea produced the largest
beast; who told him, "The earth, for the sea is but a part of it." His
question to the third was, Which is the cunningest of beasts? "That,"
said he, "which men have not yet found out." He bade the fourth tell
him what argument he used to Sabbas to persuade him to revolt. "No
other," said he, "than that he should either live or die nobly." Of the
fifth he asked, Which was eldest, night or day? The philosopher
replied, "Day was eldest, by one day at least." But perceiving
Alexander not well satisfied with that account, he added, that he ought
not to wonder if strange questions had as strange answers made to them.
Then he went on and inquired of the next, what a man should do to be
exceedingly beloved. "He must be very powerful," said he, "without
making himself too much feared." The answer of the seventh to his
question, how a man might become a god, was, "By doing that which was
impossible for men to do." The eighth told him, "Life is stronger than
death, because it supports so many miseries." And the last being asked,
how long he thought it decent for a man to live, said, "Till death
appeared more desirable than life." Then Alexander turned to him whom
he had made judge, and commanded him to give sentence. "All that I can
determine," said he, "is, that they have every one answered worse than
another." "Nay," said the king, "then you shall die first, for giving
such a sentence." "Not so, O king," replied the gymnosophist, "unless
you said falsely that he should die first who made the worst answer."
In conclusion he gave them presents and dismissed them.
But to those who were in greatest reputation among them, and lived a
private quiet life, he sent Onesicritus, one of Diogenes the Cynic's
disciples, desiring them to come to him. Calanus, it is said, very
arrogantly and roughly commanded him to strip himself, and hear what he
said, naked, otherwise he would not speak a word to him, though he came
from Jupiter himself. But Dandamis received him with more civility, and
hearing him discourse of Socrates, Pythagoras, and Diogenes, told him
he thought them men of great parts, and to have erred in nothing so
much as in having too great respect for the laws and customs of their
country. Others say, Dandamis only asked him the reason why Alexander
undertook so long a journey to come into those parts. Taxiles, however,
persuaded Calanus to wait upon Alexander. His proper name was Sphines,
but because he was wont to say Cale, which in the Indian tongue is a
form of salutation, to those he met with anywhere, the Greeks called
him Calanus. He is said to have shown Alexander an instructive emblem
of government, which was this. He threw a dry shriveled hide upon the
ground, and trod upon the edges of it. The skin when it was pressed in
one place, still rose up in another, wheresoever he trod round about
it, till he set his foot in the middle, which made all the parts lie
even and quiet. The meaning of this similitude being that he ought to
reside most in the middle of his empire, and not spend too much time on
the borders of it.
His voyage down the rivers took up seven months' time, and when he came
to the sea, he sailed to an island which he himself called Scillustis,
others Psiltucis, where going ashore, he sacrificed, and made what
observations he could as to the nature of the sea and the sea-coast.
Then having besought the gods that no other man might ever go beyond
the bounds of this expedition, he ordered his fleet of which he made
Nearchus admiral, and Onesicritus pilot, to sail round about, keeping
the Indian shore on the right hand, and returned himself by land
through the country of the Orites, where he was reduced to great
straits for want of provisions, and lost a vast number of men, so that
of an army of one hundred and twenty thousand foot and fifteen thousand
horse, he scarcely brought back above a fourth part out of India, they
were so diminished by diseases, ill diet, and the scorching heats, but
most by famine. For their march was through an uncultivated country
whose inhabitants fared hardly, possessing only a few sheep, and those
of a wretched kind, whose flesh was rank and unsavory, by their
continual feeding upon sea-fish.
After sixty days march he came into Gedrosia, where he found great
plenty of all things, which the neighboring kings and governors of
provinces, hearing of his approach, had taken care to provide. When he
had here refreshed his army, he continued his march through Carmania,
feasting all the way for seven days together. He with his most intimate
friends banqueted and reveled night and day upon a platform erected on
a lofty, conspicuous scaffold, which was slowly drawn by eight horses.
This was followed by a great many chariots, some covered with purple
and embroidered canopies, and some with green boughs, which were
continually supplied afresh, and in them the rest of his friends and
commanders drinking, and crowned with garlands of flowers. Here was now
no target or helmet or spear to be seen; instead of armor, the soldiers
handled nothing but cups and goblets and Thericlean drinking vessels,
which, along the whole way, they dipped into large bowls and jars, and
drank healths to one another, some seating themselves to it, others as
they went along. All places resounded with music of pipes and flutes,
with harping and singing, and women dancing as in the rites of Bacchus.
For this disorderly, wandering march, besides the drinking part of it,
was accompanied with all the sportiveness and insolence of bacchanals,
as much as if the god himself had been there to countenance and lead
the procession. As soon as he came to the royal palace of Gedrosia, he
again refreshed and feasted his army; and one day after he had drunk
pretty hard, it is said, he went to see a prize of dancing contended
for, in which his favorite Bagoas, having gained the victory, crossed
the theater in his dancing habit, and sat down close by him, which so
pleased the Macedonians, that they made loud acclamations for him to
kiss Bagoas, and never stopped clapping their hands and shouting till
Alexander put his arms round him and kissed him.
Here his admiral, Nearchus, came to him and delighted him so with the
narrative of his voyage, that he resolved himself to sail out of the
mouth of Euphrates with a great fleet, with which he designed to go
round by Arabia and Africa, and so by Hercules's Pillars into the
Mediterranean; in order for which, he directed all sorts of vessels to
be built at Thapsacus, and made great provision everywhere of seamen
and pilots. But the tidings of the difficulties he had gone through in
his Indian expedition, the danger of his person among the Mallians, the
reported loss of a considerable part of his forces, and a general doubt
as to his own safety, had begun to give occasion for revolt among many
of the conquered nations, and for acts of great injustice, avarice, and
insolence on the part of the satraps and commanders in the provinces,
so that there seemed to be an universal fluctuation and disposition to
change. Even at home, Olympias and Cleopatra had raised a faction
against Antipater, and divided his government between them, Olympias
seizing upon Epirus, and Cleopatra upon Macedonia. When Alexander was
told of it, he said his mother had made the best choice, for the
Macedonians would never endure to be ruled by a woman. Upon this he
dispatched Nearchus again to his fleet, to carry the war into the
maritime provinces, and as he marched that way himself, he punished
those commanders who had behaved ill, particularly Oxyartes, one of the
sons of Abuletes, whom he killed with his own hand, thrusting him
through the body with his spear. And when Abuletes, instead of the
necessary provisions which he ought to have furnished, brought him
three thousand talents in coined money, he ordered it to be thrown to
his horses, and when they would not touch it, "What good," he said,
"will this provision do us?" and sent him away to prison.
When he came into Persia, he distributed money among the women, as
their own kings had been wont to do, who as often as they came thither,
gave every one of them a piece of gold; on account of which custom,
some of them, it is said, had come but seldom, and Ochus was so
sordidly covetous, that to avoid this expense, he never visited his
native country once in all his reign. Then finding Cyrus's sepulchre
opened and rifled, he put Polymachus, who did it, to death, though he
was a man of some distinction, a born Macedonian of Pella. And after he
had read the inscription, he caused it to be cut again below the old
one in Greek characters; the words being these: "O man, whosoever thou
art, and from whencesoever thou comest (for I know thou wilt come), I
am Cyrus, the founder of the Persian empire; do not grudge me this
little earth which covers my body." The reading of this sensibly
touched Alexander, filling him with the thought of the uncertainty and
mutability of human affairs. At the same time, Calanus having been a
little while troubled with a disease in the bowels, requested that he
might have a funeral pile erected, to which he came on horseback, and
after he had said some prayers and sprinkled himself and cut off some
of his hair to throw into the fire, before he ascended it, he embraced
and took leave of the Macedonians who stood by, desiring them to pass
that day in mirth and good-fellowship with their king, whom in a little
time, he said, he doubted not but to see again at Babylon. Having thus
said, he lay down, and covering up his face, he stirred not when the
fire came near him, but continued still in the same posture as at
first, and so sacrificed himself, as it was the ancient custom of the
philosophers in those countries to do. The same thing was done long
after by another Indian, who came with Caesar to Athens, where they
still show you "the Indian's monument." At his return from the funeral
pile, Alexander invited a great many of his friends and principal
officers to supper, and proposed a drinking match, in which the victor
should receive a crown. Promachus drank twelve quarts of wine, and won
the prize, which was a talent, from them all; but he survived his
victory but three days, and was followed, as Chares says, by forty-one
more, who died of the same debauch, some extremely cold weather having
set in shortly after.
At Susa, he married Darius's daughter Statira, and celebrated also the
nuptials of his friends, bestowing the noblest of the Persian ladies
upon the worthiest of them, at the same time making in an entertainment
in honor of the other Macedonians whose marriages had already taken
place. At this magnificent festival, it is reported, there were no less
than nine thousand guests, to each of whom he gave a golden cup for the
libations. Not to mention other instances of his wonderful
magnificence, he paid the debts of his army, which amounted to nine
thousand eight hundred and seventy talents. But Antigenes, who had lost
one of his eyes, though he owed nothing, got his name set down in the
list of those who were in debt, and bringing one who pretended to be
his creditor, and to have supplied him from the bank, received the
money. But when the cheat was found out, the king was so incensed at
it, that he banished him from court, and took away his command, though
he was an excellent soldier, and a man of great courage. For when he
was but a youth, and served under Philip at the siege of Perinthus,
where he was wounded in the eye by an arrow shot out of an engine, he
would neither let the arrow be taken out, nor be persuaded to quit the
field, till he had bravely repulsed the enemy and forced them to retire
into the town. Accordingly he was not able to support such a disgrace
with any patience, and it was plain that grief and despair would have
made him kill himself, but that the king fearing it, not only pardoned
him, but let him also enjoy the benefit of his deceit.
The thirty thousand boys whom he left behind him to be taught and
disciplined, were so improved at his return, both in strength and
beauty, and performed their exercises with such dexterity and wonderful
agility, that he was extremely pleased with them, which grieved the
Macedonians, and made them fear he would have the less value for them.
And when he proceeded to send down the infirm and maimed soldiers to
the sea, they said they were unjustly and infamously dealt with, after
they were worn out in his service upon all occasions, now to be turned
away with disgrace and sent home into their country among their friends
and relations, in a worse condition than when they came out; therefore
they desired him to dismiss them one and all, and to account his
Macedonians useless, now he was so well furnished with a set of dancing
boys, with whom, if he pleased, he might go on and conquer the world.
These speeches so incensed Alexander, that after he had given them a
great deal of reproachful language in his passion, he drove them away,
and committed the watch to Persians, out of whom he chose his guards
and attendants. When the Macedonians saw him escorted by these men, and
themselves excluded and shamefully disgraced, their high spirits fell,
and conferring with one another, they found that jealousy and rage had
almost distracted them. But at last coming to themselves again, they
went without their arms, with on]y their under garments on, crying and
weeping, to offer themselves at his tent, and desired him to deal with
them as their baseness and ingratitude deserved. However, this would
not prevail; for though his anger was already something mollified, yet
he would not admit them into his presence, nor would they stir from
thence, but continued two days and nights before his tent, bewailing
themselves, and imploring him as their lord to have compassion on them.
But the third day he came out to them, and seeing them very humble and
penitent, he wept himself a great while, and after a gentle reproof
spoke kindly to them, and dismissed those who were unserviceable with
magnificent rewards, and with this recommendation to Antipater, that
when they came home, at all public shows and in the theaters, they
should sit on the best and foremost seats, crowned with chaplets of
flowers. He ordered, also, that the children of those who had lost
their lives in his service, should have their fathers' pay continued to
them.
When he came to Ecbatana in Media, and had dispatched his most urgent
affairs, he began to divert himself again with spectacles and public
entertainments, to carry on which he had a supply of three thousand
actors and artists, newly arrived out of Greece. But they were soon
interrupted by Hephaestion's falling sick of a fever, in which, being a
young man and a soldier too, he could not confine himself to so exact a
diet as was necessary; for whilst his physician Glaucus was gone to the
theater, he ate a fowl for his dinner, and drank a large draught of
wine, upon which he became very ill, and shortly after died. At this
misfortune, Alexander was so beyond all reason transported, that to
express his sorrow, he immediately ordered the manes and tails of all
his horses and mules to be cut, and threw down the battlements of the
neighboring cities. The poor physician he crucified, and forbade
playing on the flute, or any other musical instrument in the camp a
great while, till directions came from the oracle of Ammon, and
enjoined him to honor Hephaestion, and sacrifice to him as to a hero.
Then seeking to alleviate his grief in war, he set out, as it were, to
a hunt and chase of men, for he fell upon the Cossaeans, and put the
whole nation to the sword. This was called a sacrifice to Hephaestion's
ghost. In his sepulchre and monument and the adorning of them, he
intended to bestow ten thousand talents; and designing that the
excellence of the workmanship and the singularity of the design might
outdo the expense, his wishes turned, above all other artists, to
Stasicrates, because he always promised something very bold, unusual,
and magnificent in his projects. Once when they had met before, he had
told him, that of all the mountains he knew, that of Athos in Thrace
was the most capable of being adapted to represent the shape and
lineaments of a man; that if he pleased to command him, he would make
it the noblest and most durable statue in the world, which in its left
hand should hold a city of ten thousand inhabitants, and out of its
right should pour a copious river into the sea. Though Alexander
declined this proposal, yet now he spent a great deal of time with
workmen to invent and contrive others even more extravagant and
sumptuous.
As he was upon his way to Babylon, Nearchus, who had sailed back out of
the ocean up the mouth of the river Euphrates, came to tell him he had
met with some Chaldaean diviners, who had warned him against
Alexander's going thither. Alexander, however, took no thought of it,
and went on, and when he came near the walls of the place, he saw a
great many crows fighting with one another, some of whom fell down just
by him. After this, being privately informed that Apollodorus, the
governor of Babylon, had sacrificed, to know what would become of him,
he sent for Pythagoras, the soothsayer, and on his admitting the thing,
asked him, in what condition he found the victim; and when he told him
the liver was defective in its lobe, "A great presage indeed!" said
Alexander. However, he offered Pythagoras no injury, but was sorry that
he had neglected Nearchus's advice, and stayed for the most part
outside the town, removing his tent from place to place, and sailing up
and down the Euphrates. Besides this, he was disturbed by many other
prodigies. A tame ass fell upon the biggest and handsomest lion that he
kept, and killed him by a kick. And one day after he had undressed
himself to be anointed, and was playing at ball, just as they were
going to bring his clothes again, the young men who played with him
perceived a man clad in the king's robes, with a diadem upon his head,
sitting silently upon his throne. They asked him who he was, to which
he gave no answer a good while, till at last coming to himself, he told
them his name was Dionysius, that he was of Messenia, that for some
crime of which he was accused, he was brought thither from the
sea-side, and had been kept long in prison, that Serapis appeared to
him, had freed him from his chains, conducted him to that place, and
commanded him to put on the king's robe and diadem, and to sit where
they found him, and to say nothing. Alexander, when he heard this, by
the direction of his soothsayers, put the fellow to death, but he lost
his spirits, and grew diffident of the protection and assistance of the
gods, and suspicious of his friends. His greatest apprehension was of
Antipater and his sons, one of whom, Iolaus, was his chief cupbearer;
and Cassander, who had lately arrived, and had been bred up in Greek
manners, the first time he saw some of the barbarians adore the king,
could not forbear laughing at it aloud, which so incensed Alexander,
that he took him by the hair with both hands, and dashed his head
against the wall. Another time, Cassander would have said something in
defense of Antipater to those who accused him, but Alexander
interrupting him said, "What is it you say? Do you think people, if
they had received no injury, would come such a journey only to
calumniate your father?" To which when Cassander replied, that their
coming so far from the evidence was a great proof of the falseness of
their charges, Alexander smiled, and said those were some of
Aristotle's sophisms, which would serve equally on both sides; and
added, that both he and his father should be severely punished, if they
were found guilty of the least injustice towards those who complained.
All which made such a deep impression of terror in Cassander's mind,
that long after when he was king of Macedonia, and master of Greece, as
he was walking up and down at Delphi, and looking at the statues, at
the sight of that of Alexander he was suddenly struck with alarm, and
shook all over, his eyes rolled, his head grew dizzy, and it was long
before he recovered himself.
When once Alexander had given way to fears of supernatural influence,
his mind grew so disturbed and so easily alarmed, that if the least
unusual or extraordinary thing happened, he thought it a prodigy or a
presage, and his court was thronged with diviners and priests whose
business was to sacrifice and purify and foretell the future. So
miserable a thing is incredulity and contempt of divine power on the
one hand, and so miserable, also, superstition on the other, which like
water, where the level has been lowered, flowing in and never stopping,
fills the mind with slavish fears and follies, as now in Alexander's
case. But upon some answers which were brought him from the oracle
concerning Hephaestion, he laid aside his sorrow, and fell again to
sacrificing and drinking; and having given Nearchus a splendid
entertainment, after he had bathed, as was his custom, just as he was
going to bed, at Medius's request he went to supper with him. Here he
drank all the next day, and was attacked with a fever, which seized
him, not as some write, after he had drunk of the bowl of Hercules; nor
was he taken with any sudden pain in his back, as if he had been struck
with lance, for these are the inventions of some authors who thought it
their duty to make the last scene of so great an action as tragical and
moving as they could. Aristobulus tells us, that in the rage of his
fever and a violent thirst, he took a draught of wine, upon which he
fell into delirium, and died on the thirtieth day of the month Daesius.
But the journals give the following record. On the eighteenth of the
month, he slept in the bathing-room on account of his fever. The next
day he bathed and removed into his chamber, and spent his time in
playing dice with Medius. In the evening he bathed and sacrificed, and
ate freely, and had the fever on him through the night. On the
twentieth, after the usual sacrifices and bathing, he lay in the
bathing-room and heard Nearchus's narrative of his voyage, and the
observations he had made in the great sea. The twenty-first he passed
in the same manner, his fever still increasing, and suffered much
during the night. The next day the fever was very violent, and he had
himself removed and his bed set by the great bath, and discoursed with
his principal officers about finding fit men to fill up the vacant
places in the army. On the twenty-fourth he was much worse, and was
carried out of his bed to assist at the sacrifices, and gave order that
the general officers should wait within the court, whilst the inferior
officers kept watch without doors. On the twenty-fifth he was removed
to his palace on the other side the river, where he slept a little, but
his fever did not abate, and when the generals came into his chamber,
he was speechless, and continued so the following day. The Macedonians,
therefore, supposing he was dead, came with great clamors to the gates,
and menaced his friends so that they were forced to admit them, and let
them all pass through unarmed along by his bedside. The same day Python
and Seleucus were dispatched to the temple of Serapis to inquire if
they should bring Alexander thither, and were answered by the god, that
they should not remove him. On the twenty-eighth, in the evening, he
died. This account is most of it word for word as it is written in the
diary.
At the time, nobody had any suspicion of his being poisoned, but upon
some information given six years after, they say Olympias put many to
death, and scattered the ashes of Iolaus, then dead, as if he had given
it him. But those who affirm that Aristotle counseled Antipater to do
it, and that by his means the poison was brought, adduce one
Hagnothemis as their authority, who, they say, heard king Antigonus
speak of it, and tell us that the poison was water, deadly cold as ice,
distilling from a rock in the district of Nonacris, which they gathered
like a thin dew, and kept in an ass's hoof; for it was so very cold and
penetrating that no other vessel would hold it. However, most are of
opinion that all this is a mere made-up story, no slight evidence of
which is, that during the dissensions among the commanders, which
lasted several days, the body continued clear and fresh, without any
sign of such taint or corruption, though it lay neglected in a close,
sultry place.
Roxana, who was now with child, and upon that account much honored by
the Macedonians, being jealous of Statira, sent for her by a
counterfeit letter, as if Alexander had been still alive; and when she
had her in her power, killed her and her sister, and threw their bodies
into a well, which they filled up with earth, not without the privity
and assistance of Perdiccas, who in the time immediately following the
king's death, under cover of the name of Arrhidaeus, whom he carried
about him as a sort of guard to his person, exercised the chief
authority Arrhidaeus, who was Philip's son by an obscure woman of the
name of Philinna, was himself of weak intellect, not that he had been
originally deficient either in body or mind; on the contrary, in his
childhood, he had showed a happy and promising character enough. But a
diseased habit of body, caused by drugs which Olympias gave him, had
ruined not only his health, but his understanding.
CAESAR
After Sylla became master of Rome, he wished to make Caesar put away
his wife Cornelia, daughter of Cinna, the late sole ruler of the
commonwealth, but was unable to effect it either by promises or
intimidation, and so contented himself with confiscating her dowry. The
ground of Sylla's hostility to Caesar, was the relationship between him
and Marius; for Marius, the elder, married Julia, the sister of
Caesar's father, and had by her the younger Marius, who consequently
was Caesar's first cousin. And though at the beginning, while so many
were to be put to death and there was so much to do, Caesar was
overlooked by Sylla, yet he would not keep quiet, but presented himself
to the people as a candidate for the priesthood, though he was yet a
mere boy. Sylla, without any open opposition, took measures to have him
rejected, and in consultation whether he should be put to death, when
it was urged by some that it was not worth his while to contrive the
death of a boy, he answered, that they knew little who did not see more
than one Marius in that boy. Caesar, on being informed of this saying,
concealed himself, and for a considerable time kept out of the way in
the country of the Sabines, often changing his quarters, till one
night, as he was removing from one house to another on account of his
health, he fell into the hands of Sylla's soldiers, who were searching
those parts in order to apprehend any who had absconded. Caesar, by a
bribe of two talents, prevailed with Cornelius, their captain, to let
him go, and was no sooner dismissed but he put to sea, and made for
Bithynia. After a short stay there with Nicomedes, the king, in his
passage back he was taken near the island Pharmacusa by some of the
pirates, who, at that time, with large fleets of ships and innumerable
smaller vessels infested the seas everywhere.
When these men at first demanded of him twenty talents for his ransom,
he laughed at them for not understanding the value of their prisoner,
and voluntarily engaged to give them fifty. He presently dispatched
those about him to several places to raise the money, till at last he
was left among a set of the most bloodthirsty people in the world, the
Cilicians, only with one friend and two attendants. Yet he made so
little of them, that when he had a mind to sleep, he would send to
them, and order them to make no noise. For thirty-eight days, with all
the freedom in the world, he amused himself with joining in their
exercises and games, as if they had not been his keepers, but his
guards. He wrote verses and speeches, and made them his auditors, and
those who did not admire them, he called to their faces illiterate and
barbarous, and would often, in raillery, threaten to hang them. They
were greatly taken with this, and attributed his free talking to a kind
of simplicity and boyish playfulness. As soon as his ransom was come
from Miletus, he paid it, and was discharged, and proceeded at once to
man some ships at the port of Miletus, and went in pursuit of the
pirates, whom he surprised with their ships still stationed at the
island, and took most of them. Their money he made his prize, and the
men he secured in prison at Pergamus, and made application to Junius,
who was then governor of Asia, to whose office it belonged, as praetor,
to determine their punishment. Junius, having his eye upon the money,
for the sum was considerable, said he would think at his leisure what
to do with the prisoners, upon which Caesar took his leave of him, and
went off to Pergamus, where he ordered the pirates to be brought forth
and crucified; the punishment he had often threatened them with whilst
he was in their hands, and they little dreamed he was in earnest.
In the meantime Sylla's power being now on the decline, Caesar's
friends advised him to return to Rome, but he went to Rhodes, and
entered himself in the school of Apollonius, Molon's son, a famous
rhetorician, one who had the reputation of a worthy man, and had Cicero
for one of his scholars. Caesar is said to have been admirably fitted
by nature to make a great statesman and orator, and to have taken such
pains to improve his genius this way, that without dispute he might
challenge the second place. More he did not aim at, as choosing to be
first rather amongst men of arms and power, and, therefore, never rose
to that height of eloquence to which nature would have carried him, his
attention being diverted to those expeditions and designs, which at
length gained him the empire. And he himself, in his answer to Cicero's
panegyric on Cato, desires his reader not to compare the plain
discourse of a soldier with the harangues of an orator who had not only
fine parts, but had employed his life in this study.
When he was returned to Rome, he accused Dolabella of
maladministration, and many cities of Greece came in to attest it.
Dolabella was acquitted, and Caesar, in return for the support he had
received from the Greeks, assisted them in their prosecution of Publius
Antonius for corrupt practices, before Marcus Lucullus, praetor of
Macedonia. In this cause he so far succeeded, that Antonius was forced
to appeal to the tribunes at Rome, alleging that in Greece he could not
have fair play against Grecians. In his pleadings at Rome, his
eloquence soon obtained him great credit and favor, and he won no less
upon the affections of the people by the affability of his manners and
address, in which he slowed a tact and consideration beyond what could
have been expected at his age; and the open house he kept, the
entertainments he gave, and the general splendor of his manner of life
contributed little by little to create and increase his political
influence. His enemies slighted the growth of it at first, presuming it
would soon fail when his money was gone; whilst in the meantime it was
growing up and flourishing among the common people. When his power at
last was established and not to be overthrown, and now openly tended to
the altering of the whole constitution, they were aware too late, that
there is no beginning so mean, which continued application will not
make considerable, and that despising a danger at first, will make it
at last irresistible. Cicero was the first who had any suspicions of
his designs upon the government, and, as a good pilot is apprehensive
of a storm when the sea is most smiling, saw the designing temper of
the man through this disguise of good-humor and affability, and said,
that in general, in all he did and undertook, he detected the ambition
for absolute power, "but when I see his hair so carefully arranged, and
observe him adjusting it with one finger, I cannot imagine it should
enter into such a man's thoughts to subvert the Roman state." But of
this more hereafter.
The first proof he had of the people's good-will to him, was when he
received by their suffrages a tribuneship in the army, and came out on
the list with a higher place than Caius Popilius. A second and clearer
instance of their favor appeared upon his making a magnificent oration
in praise of his aunt Julia, wife to Marius, publicly in the forum, at
whose funeral he was so bold as to bring forth the images of Marius,
which nobody had dared to produce since the government came into
Sylla's hands, Marius's party having from that time been declared
enemies of the State. When some who were present had begun to raise a
cry against Caesar, the people answered with loud shouts and clapping
in his favor, expressing their joyful surprise and satisfaction at his
having, as it were, brought up again from the grave those honors of
Marius, which for so long a time had been lost to the city. It had
always been the custom at Rome to make funeral orations in praise of
elderly matrons, but there was no precedent of any upon young women
till Caesar first made one upon the death of his own wife. This also
procured him favor, and by this show of affection he won upon the
feelings of the people, who looked upon him as a man of great
tenderness and kindness of heart. After he had buried his wife, he went
as quaestor into Spain under one of the praetors, named Vetus, whom he
honored ever after, and made his son his own quaestor, when he himself
came to be praetor. After this employment was ended, he married
Pompeia, his third wife, having then a daughter by Cornelia, his first
wife, whom he afterwards married to Pompey the Great. He was so profuse
in his expenses, that before he had any public employment, he was in
debt thirteen hundred talents, and many thought that by incurring such
expense to be popular, he changed a solid good for what would prove but
short and uncertain return; but in truth he was purchasing what was of
the greatest value at an inconsiderable rate. When he was made surveyor
of the Appian Way, he disbursed, besides the public money, a great sum
out of his private purse; and when he was aedile, be provided such a
number of gladiators, that he entertained the people with three hundred
and twenty single combats, and by his great liberality and magnificence
in theatrical shows, in processions, and public feastings, he threw
into the shade all the attempts that had been made before him, and
gained so much upon the people, that everyone was eager to find out new
offices and new honors for him in return for his munificence.
There being two factions in the city, one that of Sylla, which was very
powerful, the other that of Marius, which was then broken and in a very
low condition, he undertook to revive this and to make it his own. And
to this end, whilst he was in the height of his repute with the people
for the magnificent shows he gave as aedile, he ordered images of
Marius, and figures of Victory, with trophies in their hands, to be
carried privately in the night and placed in the capitol. Next morning,
when some saw them bright with gold and beautifully made, with
inscriptions upon them, referring them to Marius's exploits over the
Cimbrians, they were surprised at the boldness of him who had set them
up, nor was it difficult to guess who it was. The fame of this soon
spread and brought together a great concourse of people. Some cried out
that it was an open attempt against the established government thus to
revive those honors which had been buried by the laws and decrees of
the senate; that Caesar had done it to sound the temper of the people
whom he had prepared before, and to try whether they were tame enough
to bear his humor, and would quietly give way to his innovations. On
the other hand, Marius's party took courage, and it was incredible how
numerous they were suddenly seen to be, and what a multitude of them
appeared and came shouting into the capitol. Many, when they saw
Marius's likeness, cried for joy, and Caesar was highly extolled as the
one man, in the place of all others, who was a relation worthy of
Marius. Upon this the senate met, and Catulus Lutatius, one of the most
eminent Romans of that time, stood up and inveighed against Caesar,
closing his speech with the remarkable saying, that Caesar was now not
working mines, but planting batteries to overthrow the state. But when
Caesar had made an apology for himself, and satisfied the senate, his
admirers were very much animated, and advised him not to depart from
his own thoughts for anyone, since with the people's good favor he
would erelong get the better of them all, and be the first man in the
commonwealth.
At this time, Metellus, the High-Priest, died, and Catulus and
Isauricus, persons of the highest reputation, and who had great
influence in the senate, were competitors for the office; yet Caesar
would not give way to them, but presented himself to the people as a
candidate against them. The several parties seeming very equal,
Catulus, who, because he had the most honor to lose, was the most
apprehensive of the event, sent to Caesar to buy him off, with offers
of a great sum of money. But his answer was, that he was ready to
borrow a larger sum than that, to carry on the contest. Upon the day of
election, as his mother conducted him out of doors with tears, after
embracing her, "My mother," he said, "today you will see me either
High-Priest, or an exile." When the votes were taken, after a great
struggle, he carried it, and excited among the senate and nobility
great alarm lest he might now urge on the people to every kind of
insolence. And Piso and Catulus found fault with Cicero for having let
Caesar escape, when in the conspiracy of Catiline he had given the
government such advantage against him. For Catiline, who had designed
not only to change the present state of affairs, but to subvert the
whole empire and confound all, had himself taken to flight, while the
evidence was yet incomplete against him, before his ultimate purposes
had been properly discovered. But he had left Lentulus and Cethegus in
the city to supply his place in the conspiracy, and whether they
received any secret encouragement and assistance from Caesar is
uncertain; all that is certain, is, that they were fully convicted in
the senate, and when Cicero, the consul, asked the several opinions of
the senators, how they would have them punished, all who spoke before
Caesar sentenced them to death; but Caesar stood up and made a set
speech, in which he told them, that he thought it without precedent and
not just to take away the lives of persons of their birth and
distinction before they were fairly tried, unless there was an absolute
necessity for it; but that if they were kept confined in any towns of
Italy Cicero himself should choose, till Catiline was defeated, then
the senate might in peace and at their leisure determine what was best
to be done.
This sentence of his carried so much appearance of humanity, and he
gave it such advantage by the eloquence with which he urged it, that
not only those who spoke after him closed with it, but even they who
had before given a contrary opinion, now came over to his, till it came
about to Catulus's and Cato's turn to speak. They warmly opposed it,
and Cato intimated in his speech the suspicion of Caesar himself, and
pressed the matter so strongly, that the criminals were given up to
suffer execution. As Caesar was going out of the senate, many of the
young men who at that time acted as guards to Cicero, ran in with their
naked swords to assault him. But Curio, it is said, threw his gown over
him, and conveyed him away, and Cicero himself, when the young men
looked up to see his wishes, gave a sign not to kill him, either for
fear of the people, or because he thought the murder unjust and
illegal. If this be true, I wonder how Cicero came to omit all mention
of it in his book about his consulship. He was blamed, however,
afterwards, for not having made use of so fortunate an opportunity
against Caesar, as if he had let it escape him out of fear of the
populace, who, indeed, showed remarkable solicitude about Caesar, and
some time after, when he went into the senate to clear himself of the
suspicions he lay under, and found great clamors raised against him,
upon the senate in consequence sitting longer than ordinary, they went
up to the house in a tumult, and beset it, demanding Caesar, and
requiring them to dismiss him. Upon this, Cato, much fearing some
movement among the poor citizens, who were always the first to kindle
the flame among the people, and placed all their hopes in Caesar,
persuaded the senate to give them a monthly allowance of corn, an
expedient which put the commonwealth to the extraordinary charge of
seven million five hundred thousand drachmas in the year, but quite
succeeded in removing the great cause of terror for the present, and
very much weakened Caesar's power, who at that time was just going to
be made praetor, and consequently would have been more formidable by
his office.
But there was no disturbance during his praetorship, only what
misfortune he met with in his own domestic affairs. Publius Clodius was
a patrician by descent, eminent both for his riches and eloquence, but
in licentiousness of life and audacity exceeded the most noted
profligates of the day. He was in love with Pompeia, Caesar's wife, and
she had no aversion to him. But there was strict watch kept on her
apartment, and Caesar's mother, Aurelia, who was a discreet woman,
being continually about her, made any interview very dangerous and
difficult. The Romans have a goddess whom they call Bona, the same whom
the Greeks call Gynaecea. The Phrygians, who claim a peculiar title to
her, say she was mother to Midas. The Romans profess she was one of the
Dryads, and married to Faunus. The Grecians affirm that she is that
mother of Bacchus whose name is not to be uttered, and, for this
reason, the women who celebrate her festival, cover the tents with
vine-branches, and, in accordance with the fable, a consecrated serpent
is placed by the goddess. It is not lawful for a man to be by, nor so
much as in the house, whilst the rites are celebrated, but the women by
themselves perform the sacred offices, which are said to be much the
same with those used in the solemnities of Orpheus. When the festival
comes, the husband, who is either consul or praetor; and with him every
male creature, quits the house. The wife then taking it under her care,
sets it in order, and the principal ceremonies are performed during the
night, the women playing together amongst themselves as they keep
watch, and music of various kinds going on.
As Pompeia was at that time celebrating this feast, Clodius, who as yet
had no beard, and so thought to pass undiscovered, took upon him the
dress and ornaments of a singing woman, and so came thither, having the
air of a young girl. Finding the doors open, he was without any stop
introduced by the maid, who was in the intrigue. She presently ran to
tell Pompeia, but as she was away a long time, he grew uneasy in
waiting for her, and left his post and traversed the house from one
room to another, still taking care to avoid the lights, till at last
Aurelia's woman met him, and invited him to play with her, as the women
did among themselves. He refused to comply, and she presently pulled
him forward, and asked him who he was, and whence he came. Clodius told
her he was waiting for Pompeia's own maid, Abra, being in fact her own
name also, and as he said so, betrayed himself by his voice. Upon which
the woman shrieking, ran into the company where there were lights, and
cried out, she had discovered a man. The women were all in a fright.
Aurelia covered up the sacred things and stopped the proceedings, and
having ordered the doors to be shut, went about with lights to find
Clodius, who was got into the maid's room that he had come in with, and
was seized there. The women knew him, and drove him out of doors, and
at once, that same night, went home and told their husbands the story.
In the morning, it was all about the town, what an impious attempt
Clodius had made, and how he ought to be punished as an offender, not
only against those whom he had affronted, but also against the public
and the gods. Upon which one of the tribunes impeached him for
profaning the holy rites, and some of the principal senators combined
together and gave evidence against him, that besides many other
horrible crimes, he had been guilty of incest with his own sister, who
was married to Lucullus. But the people set themselves against this
combination of the nobility, and defended Clodius, which was of great
service to him with the judges, who took alarm and were afraid to
provoke the multitude. Caesar at once dismissed Pompeia, but being
summoned as a witness against Clodius, said he had nothing to charge
him with. This looking like a paradox, the accuser asked him why he
parted with his wife. Caesar replied, "I wished my wife to be not so
much as suspected." Some say that Caesar spoke this as his real
thought; others, that he did it to gratify the people, who were very
earnest to save Clodius. Clodius, at any rate, escaped; most of the
judges giving their opinions so written as to be illegible, that they
might not be in danger from the people by condemning him, nor in
disgrace with the nobility by acquitting him.
Caesar, in the meantime, being out of his praetorship, had got the
province of Spain, but was in great embarrassment with his creditors,
who, as he was going off, came upon him, and were very pressing and
importunate. This led him to apply himself to Crassus, who was the
richest man in Rome, but wanted Caesar's youthful vigor and heat to
sustain the opposition against Pompey. Crassus took upon him to satisfy
those creditors who were most uneasy to him, and would not be put off
any longer, and engaged himself to the amount of eight hundred and
thirty talents, upon which Caesar was now at liberty to go to his
province. In his journey, as he was crossing the Alps, and passing by a
small village of the barbarians with but few inhabitants and those
wretchedly poor, his companions asked the question among themselves by
way of mockery, if there were any canvassing for offices there; any
contention which should be uppermost, or feuds of great men one against
another. To which Caesar made answer seriously, "For my part, I had
rather be the first man among these fellows, than the second man in
Rome." It is said that another time, when free from business in Spain,
after reading some part of the history of Alexander, he sat a great
while very thoughtful, and at last burst out into tears. His friends
were surprised, and asked him the reason of it. "Do you think," said
he, "I have not just cause to weep, when I consider that Alexander at
my age had conquered so many nations, and I have all this time done
nothing that is memorable?" As soon as he came into Spain he was very
active, and in a few days had got together ten new cohorts of foot in
addition to the twenty which were there before. With these he marched
against the Calaici and Lusitani and conquered them, and advancing as
far as the ocean, subdued the tribes which never before had been
subject to the Romans. Having managed his military affairs with good
success, he was equally happy in the course of his civil government. He
took pains to establish a good understanding amongst the several
states, and no less care to heal the differences between debtors and
creditors. He ordered that the creditor should receive two parts of the
debtor's yearly income, and that the other part should be managed by
the debtor himself, till by this method the whole debt was at last
discharged. This conduct made him leave his province with a fair
reputation; being rich himself, and having enriched his soldiers, and
having received from them the honorable name of Imperator.
There is a law among the Romans, that whoever desires the honor of a
triumph must stay without the city and expect his answer. And another,
that those who stand for the consulship shall appear personally upon
the place. Caesar was come home at the very time of choosing consuls,
and being in a difficulty between these two opposite laws, sent to the
senate to desire that since he was obliged to be absent, he might sue
for the consulship by his friends. Cato, being backed by the law, at
first opposed his request; afterwards perceiving that Caesar had
prevailed with a great part of the senate to comply with it, he made it
his business to gain time, and went on wasting the whole day in
speaking. Upon which Caesar thought fit to let the triumph fall, and
pursued the consulship. Entering the town and coming forward
immediately, he had recourse to a piece of state-policy by which
everybody was deceived but Cato. This was the reconciling of Crassus
and Pompey, the two men who then were most powerful in Rome. There had
been a quarrel between them, which he now succeeded in making up, and
by this means strengthened himself by the united power of both, and so
under the cover of an action which carried all the appearance of a
piece of kindness and good-nature, caused what was in effect a
revolution in the government. For it was not the quarrel between Pompey
and Caesar, as most men imagine, which was the origin of the civil
wars, but their union, their conspiring together at first to subvert
the aristocracy, and so quarreling afterwards between themselves. Cato,
who often foretold what the consequence of this alliance would be, had
then the character of a sullen, interfering man, but in the end the
reputation of a wise but unsuccessful counselor.
Thus Caesar being doubly supported by the interests of Crassus and
Pompey, was promoted to the consulship, and triumphantly proclaimed
with Calpurnius Bibulus. When he entered on his office, he brought in
bills which would have been preferred with better grace by the most
audacious of the tribunes than by a consul, in which he proposed the
plantation of colonies and division of lands, simply to please the
commonalty. The best and most honorable of the senators opposed it,
upon which, as he had long wished for nothing more than for such a
colorable pretext, he loudly protested how much against his will it was
to be driven to seek support from the people, and how the senate's
insulting and harsh conduct left no other course possible for him, than
to devote himself henceforth to the popular cause and interest. And so
he hurried out of the senate, and presenting himself to the people, and
there placing Crassus and Pompey, one on each side of him, he asked
them whether they consented to the bills he had proposed. They owned
their assent, upon which he desired them to assist him against those
who had threatened to oppose him with their swords. They engaged they
would, and Pompey added further, that he would meet their swords with a
sword and buckler too. These words the nobles much resented, as neither
suitable to his own dignity, nor becoming the reverence due to the
senate, but resembling rather the vehemence of a boy, or the fury of a
madman. But the people were pleased with it. In order to get a yet
firmer hold upon Pompey, Caesar having a daughter, Julia, who had been
before contracted to Servilius Caepio, now betrothed her to Pompey, and
told Servilius he should have Pompey's daughter, who was not unengaged
either, but promised to Sylla's son, Faustus. A little time after,
Caesar married Calpurnia, the daughter of Piso, and got Piso made
consul for the year following. Cato exclaimed loudly against this, and
protested with a great deal of warmth, that it was intolerable the
government should be prostituted by marriages, and that they should
advance one another to the commands of armies, provinces, and other
great posts, by means of women. Bibulus, Caesar's colleague, finding it
was to no purpose to oppose his bills, but that he was in danger of
being murdered in the forum, as also was Cato, confined himself to his
house, and there let the remaining part of his consulship expire.
Pompey, when he was married, at once filled the forum with soldiers,
and gave the people his help in passing the new laws, and secured
Caesar the government of all Gaul, both on this and the other side of
the Alps, together with Illyricum, and the command of four legions for
five years. Cato made some attempts against these proceedings, but was
seized and led off on the way to prison by Caesar, who expected he
would appeal to the tribunes. But when he saw that Cato went along
without speaking a word, and not only the nobility were indignant, but
that the people, also, out of respect for Cato's virtue, were following
in silence, and with dejected looks, he himself privately desired one
of the tribunes to rescue Cato. As for the other senators, some few of
them attended the house, the rest being disgusted, absented themselves.
Hence Considius, a very old man, took occasion one day to tell Caesar,
that the senators did not meet because they were afraid of his
soldiers. Caesar asked, "Why don't you then, out of the same fear, keep
at home?" To which Considius replied, that age was his guard against
fear, and that the small remains of his life were not worth much
caution. But the most disgraceful thing that was done in Caesar's
consulship, was his assisting to gain the tribuneship for the same
Clodius who had made the attempt upon his wife's chastity, and intruded
upon the secret vigils. He was elected on purpose to effect Cicero's
downfall; nor did Caesar leave the city to join his army, till they two
had overpowered Cicero, and driven him out of Italy.
Thus far have we followed Caesar's actions before the wars of Gaul.
After this, he seems to begin his course afresh, and to enter upon a
new life and scene of action. And the period of those wars which he now
fought, and those many expeditions in which he subdued Gaul, showed him
to be a soldier and general not in the least inferior to any of the
greatest and most admired commanders who had ever appeared at the head
of armies. For if we compare him with the Fabii, the Metelli, the
Scipios, and with those who were his contemporaries, or not long before
him, Sylla, Marius, the two Luculli, or even Pompey himself, whose
glory, it may be said, went up at that time to heaven for every
excellence in war, we shall find Caesar's actions to have surpassed
them all. One he may be held to have outdone in consideration of the
difficulty of the country in which he fought, another in the extent of
territory which he conquered; some, in the number and strength of the
enemies whom he defeated; one man, because of the wildness and
perfidiousness of the tribes whose good-will he conciliated, another in
his humanity and clemency to those he overpowered; others, again in his
gifts and kindnesses to his soldiers; all alike in the number of the
battles which he fought and the enemies whom he killed. For he had not
pursued the wars in Gaul full ten years, when he had taken by storm
above eight hundred towns, subdued three hundred states, and of the
three millions of men, who made up the gross sum of those with whom at
several times he engaged, he had killed one million, and taken captive
a second.
He was so much master of the good-will and hearty service of his
soldiers, that those who in other expeditions were but ordinary men,
displayed a courage past defeating or withstanding when they went upon
any danger where Caesar's glory was concerned. Such a one was Acilius,
who, in the sea-fight before Marseilles, had his right hand struck off
with a sword, yet did not quit his buckler out of his left, but struck
the enemies in the face with it, till he drove them off, and made
himself master of the vessel. Such another was Cassius Scaeva, who, in
a battle near Dyrrhachium, had one of his eyes shot out with an arrow,
his shoulder pierced with one javelin, and his thigh with another; and
having received one hundred and thirty darts upon his target, called to
the enemy, as though he would surrender himself. But when two of them
came up to him, he cut off the shoulder of one with a sword, and by a
blow over the face forced the other to retire, and so with the
assistance of his friends, who now came up, made his escape. Again, in
Britain, when some of the foremost officers had accidentally got into a
morass full of water, and there were assaulted by the enemy, a common
soldier, whilst Caesar stood and looked on, threw himself into the
midst of them, and after many signal demonstrations of his valor,
rescued the officers, and beat off the barbarians. He himself, in the
end, took to the water, and with much difficulty, partly by swimming,
partly by wading, passed it, but in the passage lost his shield. Caesar
and his officers saw it and admired, and went to meet him with joy and
acclamation. But the soldier, much dejected and in tears, threw himself
down at Caesar's feet, and begged his pardon for having let go his
buckler. Another time in Africa, Scipio having taken a ship of Caesar's
in which Granius Petro, lately appointed quaestor, was sailing, gave
the other passengers as free prize to his soldiers, but thought fit to
offer the quaestor his life. But he said it was not usual for Caesar's
soldiers to take, but give mercy, and having said so, fell upon his
sword and killed himself.
This love of honor and passion for distinction were inspired into them
and cherished in them by Caesar himself, who, by his unsparing
distribution of money and honors, showed them that he did not heap up
wealth from the wars for his own luxury, or the gratifying his private
pleasures, but that all he received was but a public fund laid by for
the reward and encouragement of valor, and that he looked upon all he
gave to deserving soldiers as so much increase to his own riches. Added
to this, also, there was no danger to which he did not willingly expose
himself, no labor from which he pleaded all exemption. His contempt of
danger was not so much wondered at by his soldiers, because they knew
how much he coveted honor. But his enduring so much hardship, which he
did to all appearance beyond his natural strength, very much astonished
them. For he was a spare man, had a soft and white skin, was
distempered in the head, and subject to an epilepsy, which, it is said,
first seized him at Corduba. But he did not make the weakness of his
constitution a pretext for his ease, but rather used war as the best
physic against his indispositions; whilst by indefatigable journeys,
coarse diet, frequent lodging in the field, and continual laborious
exercise, he struggled with his diseases, and fortified his body
against all attacks. He slept generally in his chariots or litters,
employing even his rest in pursuit of action. In the day he was thus
carried to the forts, garrisons, and camps, one servant sitting with
him, who used to write down what he dictated as he went, and a soldier
attending behind with his sword drawn. He drove so rapidly, that when
he first left Rome, he arrived at the river Rhone within eight days. He
had been an expert rider from his childhood; for it was usual with him
to sit with his hands joined together behind his back, and so to put
his horse to its full speed. And in this war he disciplined himself so
far as to be able to dictate letters from on horseback, and to give
directions to two who took notes at the same time, or, as Oppius says,
to more. And it is thought that he was the first who contrived means
for communicating with friends by cipher, when either press of
business, or the large extent of the city, left him no time for a
personal conference about matters that required dispatch. How little
nice he was in his diet, may be seen in the following instance. When at
the table of Valerius Leo, who entertained him at supper at Milan, a
dish of asparagus was put before him, on which his host instead of oil
had poured sweet ointment. Caesar partook of it without any disgust,
and reprimanded his friends for finding fault with it. "For it was
enough," said he, "not to eat what you did not like; but he who
reflects on another man's want of breeding, shows he wants it as much
himself." Another time upon the road he was driven by a storm into a
poor man's cottage, where he found but one room, and that such as would
afford but a mean reception to a single person, and therefore told his
companions, places of honor should be given up to the greater men, and
necessary accommodations to the weaker, and accordingly ordered that
Oppius, who was in bad health, should lodge within, whilst he and the
rest slept under a shed at the door.
His first war in Gaul was against the Helvetians and Tigurini, who
having burnt their own towns, twelve in number, and four hundred
villages, would have marched forward through that part of Gaul which
was included in the Roman province, as the Cimbrians and Teutons
formerly had done. Nor were they inferior to these in courage; and in
numbers they were equal, being in all three hundred thousand, of which
one hundred and ninety thousand were fighting men. Caesar did not
engage the Tigurini in person, but Labienus, under his directions,
routed them near the river Arar. The Helvetians surprised Caesar, and
unexpectedly set upon him as he was conducting his army to a
confederate town. He succeeded, however, in making his retreat into a
strong position, where, when he had mustered and marshalled his men,
his horse was brought to him; upon which he said, "When I have won the
battle, I will use my horse for the chase, but at present let us go
against the enemy," and accordingly charged them on foot. After a long
and severe combat, he drove the main army out of the field, but found
the hardest work at their carriages and ramparts, where not only the
men stood and fought, but the women also and children defended
themselves, till they were cut to pieces; insomuch that the fight was
scarcely ended till midnight. This action, glorious in itself, Caesar
crowned with another yet more noble, by gathering in a body all the
barbarians that had escaped out of the battle, above one hundred
thousand in number, and obliging them to reoccupy the country which
they had deserted, and the cities which they had burnt. This he did for
fear the Germans should pass in and possess themselves of the land
whilst it lay uninhabited.
His second war was in defense of the Gauls against the Germans, though
some time before he had made Ariovistus, their king, recognized at Rome
as an ally. But they were very insufferable neighbors to those under
his government; and it was probable, when occasion offered, they would
renounce the present arrangements, and march on to occupy Gaul. But
finding his officers timorous, and especially those of the young
nobility who came along with him in hopes of turning their campaigns
with him into a means for their own pleasure or profit, he called them
together, and advised them to march off, and not run the hazard of a
battle against their inclinations, since they had such weak and unmanly
feelings; telling them that he would take only the tenth legion, and
march against the barbarians, whom he did not expect to find an enemy
more formidable than the Cimbri, nor, he added, should they find him a
general inferior to Marius. Upon this, the tenth legion deputed some of
their body to pay him their acknowledgments and thanks, and the other
legions blamed their officers, and all, with great vigor and zeal,
followed him many days' journey, till they encamped within two hundred
furlongs of the enemy. Ariovistus's courage to some extent was cooled
upon their very approach; for never expecting the Romans would attack
the Germans, whom he had thought it more likely they would not venture
to withstand even in defense of their own subjects, he was the more
surprised at Caesar's conduct, and saw his army to be in consternation.
They were still more discouraged by the prophecies of their holy women,
who foretell the future by observing the eddies of rivers, and taking
signs from the windings and noise of streams, and who now warned them
not to engage before the next new moon appeared. Caesar having had
intimation of this, and seeing the Germans lie still, thought it
expedient to attack them whilst they were under these apprehensions,
rather than sit still and wait their time. Accordingly he made his
approaches to the strong-holds and hills on which they lay encamped,
and so galled and fretted them, that at last they came down with great
fury to engage. But he gained a signal victory, and pursued them for
four hundred furlongs, as far as the Rhine; all which space was covered
with spoils and bodies of the slain. Ariovistus made shift to pass the
Rhine with the small remains of an army, for it is said the number of
the slain amounted to eighty thousand.
After this action, Caesar left his army at their winter-quarters in the
country of the Sequani, and in order to attend to affairs at Rome, went
into that part of Gaul which lies on the Po, and was part of his
province; for the river Rubicon divides Gaul, which is on this side the
Alps, from the rest of Italy. There he sat down and employed himself in
courting people's favor; great numbers coming to him continually, and
always finding their requests answered; for he never failed to dismiss
all with present pledges of his kindness in hand, and further hopes for
the future. And during all this time of the war in Gaul, Pompey never
observed how Caesar was on the one hand using the arms of Rome to
effect his conquests, and on the other was gaining over and securing to
himself the favor of the Romans, with the wealth which those conquests
obtained him. But when he heard that the Belgae, who were the most
powerful of all the Gauls, and inhabited a third part of the country,
were revolted, and had got together a great many thousand men in arms,
he immediately set out and took his way thither with great expedition,
and falling upon the enemy as they were ravaging the Gauls, his allies,
he soon defeated and put to flight the largest and least scattered
division of them. For though their numbers were great, yet they made
but a slender defense, and the marshes and deep rivers were made
passable to the Roman foot by the vast quantity of dead bodies. Of
those who revolted, all the tribes that lived near the ocean came over
without fighting, and he, therefore, led his army against the Nervii,
the fiercest and most warlike people of all in those parts. These live
in a country covered with continuous woods, and having lodged their
children and property out of the way in the depth of the forest, fell
upon Caesar with a body of sixty thousand men, before he was prepared
for them, while he was making his encampment. They soon routed his
cavalry, and having surrounded the twelfth and seventh legions, killed
all the officers, and had not Caesar himself snatched up a buckler, and
forced his way through his own men to come up to the barbarians, or had
not the tenth legion, when they saw him in danger, run in from the tops
of the hills, where they lay, and broken through the enemy's ranks to
rescue him, in all probability not a Roman would have been saved. But
now, under the influence of Caesar's bold example, they fought a
battle, as the phrase is, of more than human courage, and yet with
their utmost efforts they were not able to drive the enemy out of the
field, but cut them down fighting in their defense. For out of sixty
thousand men, it is stated that not above five hundred survived the
battle, and of four hundred of their senators not above three.
When the Roman senate had received news of this, they voted sacrifices
and festivals to the gods, to be strictly observed for the space of
fifteen days, a longer space than ever was observed for any victory
before. The danger to which they had been exposed by the joint outbreak
of such a number of nations was felt to have been great; and the
people's fondness for Caesar gave additional luster to successes
achieved by him. He now, after settling everything in Gaul, came back
again, and spent the winter by the Po, in order to carry on the designs
he had in hand at Rome. All who were candidates for offices used his
assistance, and were supplied with money from him to corrupt the people
and buy their votes, in return of which, when they were chosen, they
did all things to advance his power. But what was more considerable,
the most eminent and powerful men in Rome in great numbers came to
visit him at Lucca, Pompey, and Crassus, and Appius, the governor of
Sardinia, and Nepos, the proconsul of Spain, so that there were in the
place at one time one hundred and twenty lictors, and more than two
hundred senators. In deliberation here held, it was determined that
Pompey and Crassus should be consuls again for the following year; that
Caesar should have a fresh supply of money, and that his command should
be renewed to him for five years more. It seemed very extravagant to
all thinking men, that those very persons who had received so much
money from Caesar should persuade the senate to grant him more, as if
he were in want. Though in truth it was not so much upon persuasion as
compulsion, that, with sorrow and groans for their own acts, they
passed the measure. Cato was not present, for they had sent him
seasonably out of the way into Cyprus; but Favonius, who was a zealous
imitator of Cato, when he found he could do no good by opposing it,
broke out of the house, and loudly declaimed against these proceedings
to the people, but none gave him any hearing; some slighting him out of
respect to Crassus and Pompey, and the greater part to gratify Caesar,
on whom depended their hopes.
After this, Caesar returned again to his forces in Gaul, where he found
that country involved in a dangerous war, two strong nations of the
Germans having lately passed the Rhine, to conquer it; one of them
called the Usipes, the other the Tenteritae. Of the war with this
people, Caesar himself has given this account in his commentaries, that
the barbarians, having sent ambassadors to treat with him, did, during
the treaty, set upon him in his march, by which means with eight
hundred men they routed five thousand of his horse, who did not suspect
their coming; that afterwards they sent other ambassadors to renew the
same fraudulent practices, whom he kept in custody, and led on his army
against the barbarians, as judging it mere simplicity to keep faith
with those who had so faithlessly broken the terms they had agreed to.
But Tanusius states, that when the senate decreed festivals and
sacrifices for this victory, Cato declared it to be his opinion that
Caesar ought to be given into the hands of the barbarians, that so the
guilt which this breach of faith might otherwise bring upon the state,
might be expiated by transferring the curse on him, who was the
occasion of it. Of those who passed the Rhine, there were four hundred
thousand cut off; those few who escaped were sheltered by the Sugambri,
a people of Germany. Caesar took hold of this pretense to invade the
Germans, being at the same time ambitious of the honor of being the
first man that should pass the Rhine with an army. He carried a bridge
across it, though it was very wide, and the current at that particular
point very full, strong, and violent, bringing down with its waters
trunks of trees, and other lumber, which much shook and weakened the
foundations of his bridge. But he drove great piles of wood into the
bottom of the river above the passage, to catch and stop these as they
floated down, and thus fixing his bridle upon the stream, successfully
finished this bridge, which no one who saw could believe to be the work
but of ten days.
In the passage of his army over it, he met with no opposition; the
Suevi themselves, who are the most warlike people of all Germany,
flying with their effects into the deepest and most densely wooded
valleys. When he had burnt all the enemy's country, and encouraged
those who embraced the Roman interest, he went back into Gaul, after
eighteen days' stay in Germany. But his expedition into Britain was the
most famous testimony of his courage. For he was the first who brought
a navy into the western ocean, or who sailed into the Atlantic with an
army to make war; and by invading an island, the reported extent of
which had made its existence a matter of controversy among historians,
many of whom questioned whether it were not a mere name and fiction,
not a real place, he might be said to have carried the Roman empire
beyond the limits of the known world. He passed thither twice from that
part of Gaul which lies over against it, and in several battles which
he fought, did more hurt to the enemy than service to himself, for the
islanders were so miserably poor, that they had nothing worth being
plundered of. When he found himself unable to put such an end to the
war as he wished, he was content to take hostages from the king, and to
impose a tribute, and then quitted the island. At his arrival in Gaul,
he found letters which lay ready to be conveyed over the water to him
from his friends at Rome, announcing his daughter's death, who died in
labor of a child by Pompey. Caesar and Pompey both were much afflicted
with her death, nor were their friends less disturbed, believing that
the alliance was now broken, which had hitherto kept the sickly
commonwealth in peace, for the child also died within a few days after
the mother. The people took the body of Julia, in spite of the
opposition of the tribunes, and carried it into the field of Mars, and
there her funeral rites were performed, and her remains are laid.
Caesar's army was now grown very numerous, so that he was forced to
disperse them into various camps for their winter-quarters, and he
having gone himself to Italy as he used to do, in his absence a general
outbreak throughout the whole of Gaul commenced, and large armies
marched about the country, and attacked the Roman quarters, and
attempted to make themselves masters of the forts where they lay. The
greatest and strongest party of the rebels, under the command of
Abriorix, cut off Costa and Titurius with all their men, while a force
sixty thousand strong besieged the legion under the command of Cicero,
and had almost taken it by storm, the Roman soldiers being all wounded,
and having quite spent themselves by a defense beyond their natural
strength. But Caesar, who was at a great distance, having received the
news, quickly got together seven thousand men, and hastened to relieve
Cicero. The besiegers were aware of it, and went to meet him, with
great confidence that they should easily overpower such an handful of
men. Caesar, to increase their presumption, seemed to avoid fighting,
and still marched off, till he found a place conveniently situated for
a few to engage against many, where he encamped. He kept his soldiers
from making any attack upon the enemy, and commanded them to raise the
ramparts higher, and barricade the gates, that by show of fear, they
might heighten the enemy's contempt of them. Till at last they came
without any order in great security to make an assault, when he issued
forth, and put them to flight with the loss of many men.
This quieted the greater part of the commotions in these parts of Gaul,
and Caesar, in the course of the winter, visited every part of the
country, and with great vigilance took precautions against all
innovations. For there were three legions now come to him to supply the
place of the men he had lost, of which Pompey furnished him with two,
out of those under his command; the other was newly raised in the part
of Gaul by the Po. But in a while the seeds of war, which had long
since been secretly sown and scattered by the most powerful men in
those warlike nations, broke forth into the greatest and most dangerous
war that ever was in those parts, both as regards the number of men in
the vigor of their youth who were gathered and armed from all quarters,
the vast funds of money collected to maintain it, the strength of the
towns, and the difficulty of the country where it was carried on. It
being winter, the rivers were frozen, the woods covered with snow, and
the level country flooded, so that in some places the ways were lost
through the depth of the snow; in others, the overflowing of marshes
and streams made every kind of passage uncertain. All which
difficulties made it seem impracticable for Caesar to make any attempt
upon the insurgents. Many tribes had revolted together, the chief of
them being the Arverni and Carnutini ; the general who had the supreme
command in war was Vergentorix, whose father the Gauls had put to death
on suspicion of his aiming at absolute government.
He having disposed his army in several bodies, and set officers over
them, drew over to him all the country round about as far as those that
lie upon the Arar, and having intelligence of the opposition which
Caesar now experienced at Rome, thought to engage all Gaul in the war.
Which if he had done a little later, when Caesar was taken up with the
civil wars, Italy had been put into as great a terror as before it was
by the Cimbri. But Caesar, who above all men was gifted with the
faculty of making the right use of everything in war, and most
especially of seizing the right moment, as soon as he heard of the
revolt, returned immediately the same way he went, and showed the
barbarians, by the quickness of his march in such a severe season, that
an army was advancing against them which was invincible. For in the
time that one would have thought it scarce credible that a courier or
express should have come with a message from him, he himself appeared
with all his army, ravaging the country, reducing their posts, subduing
their towns, receiving into his protection those who declared for him.
Till at last the Edui, who hitherto had styled themselves brethren to
the Romans, and had been much honored by them, declared against him,
and joined the rebels, to the great discouragement of his army.
Accordingly he removed thence, and passed the country of the Lingones,
desiring to reach the territories of the Sequani, who were his friends,
and who lay like a bulwark in front of Italy against the other tribes
of Gaul. There the enemy came upon him, and surrounded him with many
myriads, whom he also was eager to engage; and at last, after some time
and with much slaughter, gained on the whole a complete victory; though
at first he appears to have met with some reverse, and the Aruveni show
you a small sword hanging up in a temple, which they say was taken from
Caesar. Caesar saw this afterwards himself, and smiled, and when his
friends advised it should be taken down, would not permit it, because
he looked upon it as consecrated.
After the defeat a great part of those who had escaped, fled with their
king into a town called Alesia, which Caesar besieged, though the
height of the walls, and number of those who defended them, made it
appear impregnable; and meantime, from without the walls, he was
assailed by a greater danger than can be expressed. For the choice men
of Gaul, picked out of each nation, and well armed, came to relieve
Alesia, to the number of three hundred thousand; nor were there in the
town less than one hundred and seventy thousand. So that Caesar being
shut up betwixt two such forces, was compelled to protect himself by
two walls, one towards the town, the other against the relieving army,
as knowing it these forces should join, his affairs would be entirely
ruined. The danger that he underwent before Alesia, justly gained him
great honor on many accounts, and gave him an opportunity of showing
greater instances of his valor and conduct than any other contest had
done. One wonders much how he should be able to engage and defeat so
many thousands of men without the town, and not be perceived by those
within, but yet more, that the Romans themselves, who guarded their
wall which was next the town, should be strangers to it. For even they
knew nothing of the victory, till they heard the cries of the men and
lamentations of the women who were in the town, and had from thence
seen the Romans at a distance carrying into their camp a great quantity
of bucklers, adorned with gold and silver, many breastplates stained
with blood, besides cups and tents made in the Gallic fashion. So soon
did so vast an army dissolve and vanish like a ghost or dream, the
greatest part of them being killed upon the spot. Those who were in
Alesia, having given themselves and Caesar much trouble, surrendered at
last; and Vergentorix, who was the chief spring of all the war, putting
his best armor on, and adorning his horse, rode out of the gates, and
made a turn about Caesar as he was sitting, then quitted his horse,
threw off his armor, and remained seated quietly at Caesar's feet until
he was led away to be reserved for the triumph.
Caesar had long ago resolved upon the overthrow of Pompey, as had
Pompey, for that matter, upon his. For Crassus, the fear of whom had
hitherto kept them in peace, having now been killed in Parthia, if the
one of them wished to make himself the greatest man in Rome, he had
only to overthrow the other; and if he again wished to prevent his own
fall, he had nothing for it but to be beforehand with him whom he
feared. Pompey had not been long under any such apprehensions, having
till lately despised Caesar, as thinking it no difficult matter to put
down him whom he himself had advanced. But Caesar had entertained this
design from the beginning against his rivals, and had retired, like an
expert wrestler, to prepare himself apart for the combat. Making the
Gallic wars his exercise-ground, he had at once improved the strength
of his soldiery, and had heightened his own glory by his great actions,
so that he was looked on as one who might challenge comparison with
Pompey. Nor did he let go any of those advantages which were now given
him both by Pompey himself and the times, and the ill government of
Rome, where all who were candidates for offices publicly gave money,
and without any shame bribed the people, who having received their pay,
did not contend for their benefactors with their bare suffrages, but
with bows, swords, and slings. So that after having many times stained
the place of election with the blood of men killed upon the spot, they
left the city at last without a government at all, to be carried about
like a ship without a pilot to steer her; while all who had any wisdom
could only be thankful if a course of such wild and stormy disorder and
madness might end no worse than in a monarchy. Some were so bold as to
declare openly, that the government was incurable but by a monarchy,
and that they ought to take that remedy from the hands of the gentlest
physician, meaning Pompey, who, though in words he pretended to decline
it, yet in reality made his utmost efforts to be declared dictator.
Cato perceiving his design, prevailed with the senate to make him sole
consul, that with the offer of a more legal sort of monarchy he might
be withheld from demanding the dictatorship. They over and above voted
him the continuance of his provinces, for he had two, Spain and all
Africa, which he governed by his lieutenants, and maintained armies
under him, at the yearly charge of a thousand talents out of the public
treasury.
Upon this Caesar also sent and petitioned for the consulship, and the
continuance of his provinces. Pompey at first did not stir in it, but
Marcellus and Lentulus opposed it, who had always hated Caesar, and now
did every thing, whether fit or unfit, which might disgrace and affront
him. For they took away the privilege of Roman citizens from the people
of New Comum, who were a colony that Caesar had lately planted in Gaul;
and Marcellus, who was then consul, ordered one of the senators of that
town, then at Rome, to be whipped, and told him he laid that mark upon
him to signify he was no citizen of Rome, bidding him, when he went
back again, to show it to Caesar. After Marcellus's consulship, Caesar
began to lavish gifts upon all the public men out of the riches he had
taken from the Gauls; discharged Curio, the tribune, from his great
debts; gave Paulus, then consul, fifteen hundred talents, with which he
built the noble court of justice adjoining the forum, to supply the
place of that called the Fulvian. Pompey, alarmed at these
preparations, now openly took steps, both by himself and his friends,
to have a successor appointed in Caesar's room, and sent to demand back
the soldiers whom he had lent him to carry on the wars in Gaul. Caesar
returned them, and made each soldier a present of two hundred and fifty
drachmas. The officer who brought them home to Pompey, spread amongst
the people no very fair or favorable report of Caesar, and flattered
Pompey himself with false suggestions that he was wished for by
Caesar's army; and though his affairs here were in some embarrassment
through the envy of some, and the ill state of the government, yet
there the army was at his command, and if they once crossed into Italy,
would presently declare for him; so weary were they of Caesar's endless
expeditions, and so suspicious of his designs for a monarchy. Upon this
Pompey grew presumptuous, and neglected all warlike preparations, as
fearing no danger, and used no other means against him than mere
speeches and votes, for which Caesar cared nothing. And one of his
captains, it is said, who was sent by him to Rome, standing before the
senate-house one day, and being told that the senate would not give
Caesar a longer time in his government, clapped his hand on the hilt of
his sword, and said, "But this shall."
Yet the demands which Caesar made had the fairest colors of equity
imaginable. For he proposed to lay down his arms, and that Pompey
should do the same, and both together should become private men, and
each expect a reward of his services from the public. For that those
who proposed to disarm him, and at the same time to confirm Pompey in
all the power he held, were simply establishing the one in the tyranny
which they accused the other of aiming at. When Curio made these
proposals to the people in Caesar's name, he was loudly applauded, and
some threw garlands towards him, and dismissed him as they do
successful wrestlers, crowned with flowers. Antony, being tribune,
produced a letter sent from Caesar on this occasion, and read it,
though the consuls did what they could to oppose it. But Scipio,
Pompey's father-in-law, proposed in the senate, that if Caesar did not
lay down his arms within such a time, he should be voted an enemy; and
the consuls putting it to the question, whether Pompey should dismiss
his soldiers, and again, whether Caesar should disband his, very few
assented to the first, but almost all to the latter. But Antony
proposing again, that both should lay down their commissions, all but a
very few agreed to it. Scipio was upon this very violent, and Lentulus
the consul cried aloud, that they had need of arms, and not of
suffrages, against a robber; so that the senators for the present
adjourned, and appeared in mourning as a mark of their grief for the
dissension.
Afterwards there came other letters from Caesar, which seemed yet more
moderate, for he proposed to quit everything else, and only to retain
Gaul within the Alps, Illyricum, and two legions, till he should stand
a second time for consul. Cicero, the orator, who was lately returned
from Cilicia, endeavored to reconcile differences, and softened Pompey,
who was willing to comply in other things, but not to allow him the
soldiers. At last Cicero used his persuasions with Caesar's friends to
accept of the provinces, and six thousand soldiers only, and so to make
up the quarrel. And Pompey was inclined to give way to this, but
Lentulus, the consul, would not hearken to it, but drove Antony and
Curio out of the senate-house with insults, by which he afforded Caesar
the most plausible pretense that could be, and one which he could
readily use to inflame the soldiers, by showing them two persons of
such repute and authority, who were forced to escape in a hired
carriage in the dress of slaves. For so they were glad to disguise
themselves, when they fled out of Rome.
There were not about him at that time above three hundred horse, and
five thousand foot; for the rest of his army, which was left behind the
Alps, was to be brought after him by officers who had received orders
for that purpose. But he thought the first motion towards the design
which he had on foot did not require large forces at present, and that
what was wanted was to make this first step suddenly, and so as to
astound his enemies with the boldness of it; as it would be easier, he
thought, to throw them into consternation by doing what they never
anticipated, than fairly to conquer them, if he had alarmed them by his
preparations. And therefore, he commanded his captains and other
officers to go only with their swords in their hands, without any other
arms, and make themselves masters of Ariminum, a large city of Gaul,
with as little disturbance and bloodshed as possible. He committed the
care of these forces to Hortensius, and himself spent the day in public
as a stander-by and spectator of the gladiators, who exercised before
him. A little before night he attended to his person, and then went
into the hall, and conversed for some time with those he had invited to
supper, till it began to grow dusk, when he rose from table, and made
his excuses to the company, begging them to stay till he came back,
having already given private directions to a few immediate friends,
that they should follow him, not all the same way, but some one way,
some another. He himself got into one of the hired carriages, and drove
at first another way, but presently turned towards Ariminum. When he
came to the river Rubicon, which parts Gaul within the Alps from the
rest of Italy, his thoughts began to work, now he was just entering
upon the danger, and he wavered much in his mind, when he considered
the greatness of the enterprise into which he was throwing himself. He
checked his course, and ordered a halt, while he revolved with himself,
and often changed his opinion one way and the other, without speaking a
word. This was when his purposes fluctuated most; presently he also
discussed the matter with his friends who were about him, (of which
number Asinius Pollio was one,) computing how many calamities his
passing that river would bring upon mankind, and what a relation of it
would be transmitted to posterity. At last, in a sort of passion,
casting aside calculation, and abandoning himself to what might come,
and using the proverb frequently in their mouths who enter upon
dangerous and bold attempts, "The die is cast," with these words he
took the river. Once over, he used all expedition possible, and before
it was day reached Ariminum, and took it. It is said that the night
before he passed the river, he had an impious dream, that he was
unnaturally familiar with his own mother.
As soon as Ariminum was taken, wide gates, so to say, were thrown open,
to let in war upon every land alike and sea, and with the limits of the
province, the boundaries of the laws were transgressed. Nor would one
have thought that, as at other times, the mere men and women fled from
one town of Italy to another in their consternation, but that the very
towns themselves left their sites, and fled for succor to each other.
The city of Rome was overrun as it were with a deluge, by the conflux
of people flying in from all the neighboring places. Magistrates could
no longer govern, nor the eloquence of any orator quiet it; it was all
but suffering shipwreck by the violence of its own tempestuous
agitation. The most vehement contrary passions and impulses were at
work everywhere. Nor did those who rejoiced at the prospect of the
change altogether conceal their feelings, but when they met, as in so
great a city they frequently must, with the alarmed and dejected of the
other party, they provoked quarrels by their bold expressions of
confidence in the event. Pompey, sufficiently disturbed of himself; was
yet more perplexed by the clamors of others; some telling him that he
justly suffered for having armed Caesar against himself and the
government; others blaming him for permitting Caesar to be insolently
used by Lentulus, when he made such ample concessions, and offered such
reasonable proposals towards an accommodation. Favonius bade him now
stamp upon the ground; for once talking big in the senate, he desired
them not to trouble themselves about making any preparations for the
war, for that he himself, with one stamp of his foot, would fill all
Italy with soldiers. Yet still Pompey at that time had more forces than
Caesar; but he was not permitted to pursue his own thoughts, but being
continually disturbed with false reports and alarms, as if the enemy
was close upon him and carrying all before him, he gave way, and let
himself be borne down by the general cry. He put forth an edict
declaring the city to be in a state of anarchy, and left it with orders
that the senate should follow him, and that no one should stay behind
who did not prefer tyranny to their country and liberty.
The consuls at once fled, without making even the usual sacrifices; so
did most of the senators, carrying off their own goods in as much haste
as if they had been robbing their neighbors. Some, who had formerly
much favored Caesar's cause, in the prevailing alarm, quitted their own
sentiments, and without any prospect of good to themselves, were
carried along by the common stream. It was a melancholy thing to see
the city tossed in these tumults, like a ship given up by her pilots,
and left to run, as chance guides her, upon any rock in her way. Yet,
in spite of their sad condition, people still esteemed the place of
their exile to be their country for Pompey's sake, and fled from Rome,
as if it had been Caesar's camp. Labienus even, who had been one of
Caesar's nearest friends, and his lieutenant, and who had fought by him
zealously in the Gallic wars, now deserted him, and went over to
Pompey. Caesar sent all his money and equipage after him, and then sat
down before Corfinium, which was garrisoned with thirty cohorts under
the command of Domitius. He, in despair of maintaining the defense,
requested a physician, whom he had among his attendants, to give him
poison; and taking the dose, drank it, in hopes of being dispatched by
it. But soon after, when he was told that Caesar showed the utmost
clemency towards those he took prisoners, he lamented his misfortune,
and blamed the hastiness of his resolution. His physician consoled him,
by informing him that he had taken a sleeping draught, not a poison;
upon which, much rejoiced, and rising from his bed, he went presently
to Caesar, and gave him the pledge of his hand, yet afterwards again
went over to Pompey. The report of these actions at Rome, quieted those
who were there, and some who had fled thence returned.
Caesar took into his army Domitius's soldiers, as he did all those whom
he found in any town enlisted for Pompey's service. Being now strong
and formidable enough, he advanced against Pompey himself, who did not
stay to receive him, but fled to Brundisium, having sent the consuls
before with a body of troops to Dyrrhachium. Soon after, upon Caesar's
approach, he set to sea, as shall be more particularly related in his
Life. Caesar would have immediately pursued him, but wanted shipping,
and therefore went back to Rome, having made himself master of all
Italy without bloodshed in the space of sixty days. When he came
thither, he found the city more quiet than he expected, and many
senators present, to whom he addressed himself with courtesy and
deference, desiring them to send to Pompey about any reasonable
accommodations towards a peace. But nobody complied with this proposal;
whether out of fear of Pompey, whom they had deserted, or that they
thought Caesar did not mean what he said, but thought it his interest
to talk plausibly. Afterwards, when Metellus, the tribune, would have
hindered him from taking money out of the public treasure, and adduced
some laws against it, Caesar replied, that arms and laws had each their
own time; "If what I do displeases you, leave the place; war allows no
free talking. When I have laid down my arms, and made peace, come back
and make what speeches you please. And this," he added, "I tell you in
diminution of my own just right, as indeed you and all others who have
appeared against me and are now in my power, may be treated as I
please." Having said this to Metellus, he went to the doors of the
treasury, and the keys being not to be found, sent for smiths to force
them open. Metellus again making resistance, and some encouraging him
in it, Caesar, in a louder tone, told him he would put him to death, if
he gave him any further disturbance. "And this," said he, "you know,
young man, is more disagreeable for me to say, than to do." These words
made Metellus withdraw for fear, and obtained speedy execution
henceforth for all orders that Caesar gave for procuring necessaries
for the war.
He was now proceeding to Spain, with the determination of first
crushing Afranius and Varro, Pompey's lieutenants, and making himself
master of the armies and provinces under them, that he might then more
securely advance against Pompey, when he had no enemy left behind him.
In this expedition his person was often in danger from ambuscades, and
his army by want of provisions, yet he did not desist from pursuing the
enemy, provoking them to fight, and hemming them with his
fortifications, till by main force he made himself master of their
camps and their forces. Only the generals got off, and fled to Pompey.
When Caesar came back to Rome, Piso, his father-in-law, advised him to
send men to Pompey, to treat of a peace; but Isauricus, to ingratiate
himself with Caesar, spoke against it. After this, being created
dictator by the senate, he called home the exiles, and gave back then
rights as citizens to the children of those who had suffered under
Sylla; he relieved the debtors by an act remitting some part of the
interest on their debts, and passed some other measures of the same
sort, but not many. For within eleven days he resigned his
dictatorship, and having declared himself consul, with Servilius
Isauricus, hastened again to the war. He marched so fast, that he left
all his army behind him, except six hundred chosen horse, and five
legions, with which he put to sea in the very middle of winter, about
the beginning of the month January, (which corresponds pretty nearly
with the Athenian month Posideon,) and having past the Ionian Sea, took
Oricum and Apollonia, and then sent back the ships to Brundisium, to
bring over the soldiers who were left behind in the march. They, while
yet on the march, their bodies now no longer in the full vigor of
youth, and they themselves weary with such a multitude of wars, could
not but exclaim against Caesar, "When at last, and where, will this
Caesar let us be quiet? He carries us from place to place, and uses us
as if we were not to be worn out, and had no sense of labor. Even our
iron itself is spent by blows, and we ought to have some pity on our
bucklers and breastplates, which have been used so long. Our wounds, if
nothing else, should make him see that we are mortal men, whom he
commands, subject to the same pains and sufferings as other human
beings. The very gods themselves cannot force the winter season, or
hinder the storms in their time; yet he pushes forward, as if he were
not pursuing, but flying from an enemy." So they talked as they marched
leisurely towards Brundisium. But when they came thither, and found
Caesar gone off before them, their feelings changed, and they blamed
themselves as traitors to their general. They now railed at their
officers for marching so slowly, and placing themselves on the heights
overlooking the sea towards Epirus, they kept watch to see if they
could espy the vessels which were to transport them to Caesar.
He in the meantime was posted in Apollonia, but had not an army with
him able to fight the enemy, the forces from Brundisium being so long
in coming, which put him to great suspense and embarrassment what to
do. At last he resolved upon a most hazardous experiment, and embarked,
without anyone's knowledge, in a boat of twelve oars, to cross over to
Brundisium, though the sea was at that time covered with a vast fleet
of the enemies. He got on board in the night time, in the dress of a
slave, and throwing himself down like a person of no consequence, lay
along at the bottom of the vessel. The river Anius was to carry them
down to sea, and there used to blow a gentle gale every morning from
the land, which made it calm at the mouth of the river, by driving the
waves forward; but this night there had blown a strong wind from the
sea, which overpowered that from the land, so that where the river met
the influx of the sea-water and the opposition of the waves, it was
extremely rough and angry; and the current was beaten back with such a
violent swell, that the master of the boat could not make good his
passage, but ordered his sailors to tack about and return. Caesar, upon
this, discovers himself, and taking the man by the hand, who was
surprised to see him there, said, "Go on, my friend, and fear nothing;
you carry Caesar and his fortune in your boat." The mariners, when they
heard that, forgot the storm, and laying all their strength to their
oars, did what they could to force their way down the river. But when
it was to no purpose, and the vessel now took in much water, Caesar
finding himself in such danger in the very mouth of the river, much
against his will permitted the master to turn back. When he was come to
land, his soldiers ran to him in a multitude, reproaching him for what
he had done, and indignant that he should think himself not strong
enough to get a victory by their sole assistance, but must disturb
himself, and expose his life for those who were absent, as if he could
not trust those who were with him.
After this, Antony came over with the forces from Brundisium, which
encouraged Caesar to give Pompey battle, though he was encamped very
advantageously, and furnished with plenty of provisions both by sea and
land, whilst he himself was at the beginning but ill-supplied, and
before the end was extremely pinched for want of necessaries, so that
his soldiers were forced to dig up a kind of root which grew there, and
tempering it with milk, to feed on it. Sometimes they made a kind of
bread of it, and advancing up to the enemy's outposts, would throw in
these loaves, telling them, that as long as the earth produced such
roots they would not give up blockading Pompey. But Pompey took what
care he could, that neither the loaves nor the words should reach his
men, who were out of heart and despondent, through terror at the
fierceness and hardiness of their enemies, whom they looked upon as a
sort of wild beasts. There were continual skirmishes about Pompey's
outworks, in all which Caesar had the better, except one, when his men
were forced to fly in such a manner that he had like to have lost his
camp. For Pompey made such a vigorous sally on them that not a man
stood his ground; the trenches were filled with the slaughter, many
fell upon their own ramparts and bulwarks, whither they were driven in
flight by the enemy. Caesar met them, and would have turned them back,
but could not. When he went to lay hold of the ensigns, those who
carried them threw them down, so that the enemies took thirty-two of
them. He himself narrowly escaped; for taking hold of one of his
soldiers, a big and strong man, that was flying by him, he bade him
stand and face about; but the fellow, full of apprehensions from the
danger he was in, laid hold of his sword, as if he would strike Caesar,
but Caesar's armor-bearer cut off his arm. Caesar's affairs were so
desperate at that time, that when Pompey, either through
over-cautiousness, or his ill fortune, did not give the finishing
stroke to that great success, but retreated after he had driven the
routed enemy within their camp, Caesar, upon seeing his withdrawal,
said to his friends, "The victory to-day had been on the enemies' side,
if they had had a general who knew how to gain it." When he was retired
into his tent, he laid himself down to sleep, but spent that night as
miserably as ever he did any, in perplexity and consideration with
himself, coming to the conclusion that he had conducted the war amiss.
For when he had a fertile country before him, and all the wealthy
cities of Macedonia and Thessaly, he had neglected to carry the war
thither, and had sat down by the seaside, where his enemies had such a
powerful fleet, so that he was in fact rather besieged by the want of
necessaries, than besieging others with his arms. Being thus distracted
in his thoughts with the view of the difficulty and distress he was in,
he raised his camp, with the intention of advancing towards Scipio, who
lay in Macedonia; hoping either to entice Pompey into a country where
he should fight without the advantage he now had of supplies from the
sea, or to overpower Scipio, if not assisted.
This set all Pompey's army and officers on fire to hasten and pursue
Caesar, whom they concluded to be beaten and flying. But Pompey was
afraid to hazard a battle on which so much depended, and being himself
provided with all necessaries for any length of time, thought to tire
out and waste the vigor of Caesar's army, which could not last long.
For the best part of his men, though they had great experience and
showed an irresistible courage in all engagements, yet by their
frequent marches, changing their camps, attacking fortifications, and
keeping long night-watches, were getting worn-out and broken; they
being now old, their bodies less fit for labor, and their courage,
also, beginning to give way with the failure of their strength.
Besides, it was said that an infectious disease, occasioned by their
irregular diet, was prevailing in Caesar's army, and what was of
greatest moment, he was neither furnished with money nor provisions, so
that in a little time he must needs fall of himself.
For these reasons Pompey had no mind to fight him, but was thanked for
it by none but Cato, who rejoiced at the prospect of sparing his
fellow-citizens. For he when he saw the dead bodies of those who had
fallen in the last battle on Caesar's side, to the number of a
thousand, turned away, covered his face, and shed tears. But everyone
else upbraided Pompey for being reluctant to fight, and tried to goad
him on by such nicknames as Agamemnon, and king of kings, as if he were
in no hurry to lay down his sovereign authority, but was pleased to see
so many commanders attending on him, and paying their attendance at his
tent. Favonius, who affected Cato's free way of speaking his mind,
complained bitterly that they should eat no figs even this year at
Tusculum, because of Pompey's love of command. Afranius, who was lately
returned out of Spain, and on account of his ill success there, labored
under the suspicion of having been bribed to betray the army, asked why
they did not fight this purchaser of provinces. Pompey was driven,
against his own will, by this kind of language, into offering battle,
and proceeded to follow Caesar. Caesar had found great difficulties in
his march, for no country would supply him with provisions, his
reputation being very much fallen since his late defeat. But after he
took Gomphi, a town of Thessaly, he not only found provisions for his
army, but physic too. For there they met with plenty of wine, which
they took very freely, and heated with this, sporting and reveling on
their march in bacchanalian fashion, they shook off the disease, and
their whole constitution was relieved and changed into another habit.
When the two armies were come into Pharsalia, and both encamped there,
Pompey's thoughts ran the same way as they had done before, against
fighting, and the more because of some unlucky presages, and a vision
he had in a dream. But those who were about him were so confident of
success, that Domitius, and Spinther, and Scipio, as if they had
already conquered, quarreled which should succeed Caesar in the
pontificate. And many sent to Rome to take houses fit to accommodate
consuls and praetors, as being sure of entering upon those offices, as
soon as the battle was over. The cavalry especially were obstinate for
fighting, being splendidly armed and bravely mounted, and valuing
themselves upon the fine horses they kept, and upon their own handsome
persons; as also upon the advantage of their numbers, for they were
five thousand against one thousand of Caesar's. Nor were the numbers of
the infantry less disproportionate, there being forty-five thousand of
Pompey's, against twenty-two thousand of the enemy.
Caesar, collecting his soldiers together, told them that Corfinius was
coming up to them with two legions, and that fifteen cohorts more under
Calenus were posted at Megara and Athens; he then asked them whether
they would stay till these joined them, or would hazard the battle by
themselves. They all cried out to him not to wait, but on the contrary
to do whatever he could to bring about an engagement as soon as
possible. When he sacrificed to the gods for the lustration of his
army, upon the death of the first victim, the augur told him, within
three days he should come to a decisive action. Caesar asked him
whether he saw anything in the entrails, which promised a happy event.
"That," said the priest, "you can best answer yourself; for the gods
signify a great alteration from the present posture of affairs. If,
therefore, you think yourself well off now, expect worse fortune; if
unhappy, hope for better." The night before the battle, as he walked
the rounds about midnight, there was a light seen in the heaven, very
bright and flaming, which seemed to pass over Caesar's camp, and fall
into Pompey's. And when Caesar's soldiers came to relieve the watch in
the morning, they perceived a panic disorder among the enemies.
However, he did not expect to fight that day, but set about raising his
camp with the intention of marching towards Scotussa.
But when the tents were now taken down, his scouts rode up to him, and
told him the enemy would give him battle. With this news he was
extremely pleased, and having performed his devotions to the gods, set
his army in battle array, dividing them into three bodies. Over the
middlemost he placed Domitius Calvinus; Antony commanded the left wing,
and he himself the right, being resolved to fight at the head of the
tenth legion. But when he saw the enemies' cavalry taking position
against him, being struck with their fine appearance and their number,
he gave private orders that six cohorts from the rear of the army
should come round and join him, whom he posted behind the right wing,
and instructed them what they should do, when the enemy's horse came to
charge. On the other side, Pompey commanded the right wing, Domitius
the left, and Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, the center. The whole
weight of the cavalry was collected on the left wing, with the intent
that they should outflank the right wing of the enemy, and rout that
part where the general himself commanded. For they thought no phalanx
of infantry could be solid enough to sustain such a shock, but that
they must necessarily be broken and shattered all to pieces upon the
onset of so immense a force of cavalry. When they were ready on both
sides to give the signal for battle, Pompey commended his foot who were
in the front to stand their ground, and without breaking their order,
receive quietly the enemy's first attack, till they came within
javelin's cast. Caesar, in this respect, also, blames Pompey's
generalship, as if he had not been aware how the first encounter, when
made with an impetus and upon the run, gives weight and force to the
strokes, and fires the men's spirits into a flame, which the general
concurrence fans to full heat. He himself was just putting the troops
into motion and advancing to the action, when he found one of his
captains, a trusty and experienced soldier, encouraging his men to
exert their utmost. Caesar called him by his name, and said, "What
hopes, Caius Crassinius, and what grounds for encouragement?"
Crassinius stretched out his hand, and cried in a loud voice, "We shall
conquer nobly, Caesar; and I this day will deserve your praises, either
alive or dead." So he said, and was the first man to run in upon the
enemy, followed by the hundred and twenty soldiers about him, and
breaking through the first rank, still pressed on forwards with much
slaughter of the enemy, till at last he was struck back by the wound of
a sword, which went in at his mouth with such force that it came out at
his neck behind.
Whilst the foot was thus sharply engaged in the main battle, on the
flank Pompey's horse rode up confidently, and opened their ranks very
wide, that they might surround the Fight wing of Caesar. But before
they engaged, Caesar's cohorts rushed out and attacked them, and did
not dart their javelins at a distance, nor strike at the thighs and
legs, as they usually did in close battle, but aimed at their faces.
For thus Caesar had instructed them, in hopes that young gentlemen, who
had not known much of battles and wounds, but came wearing their hair
long, in the flower of their age and height of their beauty, would be
more apprehensive of such blows, and not care for hazarding both a
danger at present and a blemish for the future. And so it proved, for
they were so far from bearing the stroke of the javelins, that they
could not stand the sight of them, but turned about, and covered their
faces to secure them. Once in disorder, presently they turned about to
fly; and so most shamefully ruined all. For those who had beat them
back, at once outflanked the infantry, and falling on their rear, cut
them to pieces. Pompey, who commanded the other wing of the army, when
he saw his cavalry thus broken and flying, was no longer himself, nor
did he now remember that he was Pompey the Great, but like one whom
some god had deprived of his senses, retired to his tent without
speaking; a word, and there sat to expect the event, till the whole
army was routed, and the enemy appeared upon the works which were
thrown up before the camp, where they closely engaged with his men, who
were posted there to defend it. Then first he seemed to have recovered
his senses, and uttering, it is said, only these words, "What, into the
camp too?" he laid aside his general's habit, and putting on such
clothes as might best favor his flight, stole off. What fortune he met
with afterwards, how he took shelter in Egypt, and was murdered there,
we tell you in his Life.
Caesar, when he came to view Pompey's camp, and saw some of his
opponents dead upon the ground, others dying, said, with a groan, "This
they would have; they brought me to this necessity. I, Caius Caesar,
after succeeding in so many wars, had been condemned, had I dismissed
my army." These words, Pollio says, Caesar spoke in Latin at that time,
and that he himself wrote them in Greek; adding, that those who were
killed at the taking of the camp, were most of them servants; and that
not above six thousand soldiers fell. Caesar incorporated most of the
foot whom he took prisoners, with his own legions, and gave a free
pardon to many of the distinguished persons, and amongst the rest, to
Brutus, who afterwards killed him. He did not immediately appear after
the battle was over, which put Caesar, it is said, into great anxiety
for him; nor was his pleasure less when he saw him present himself
alive.
There were many prodigies that foreshowed this victory, but the most
remarkable that we are told of, was that at Tralles. In the temple of
Victory stood Caesar's statue. The ground on which it stood was
naturally hard and solid, and the stone with which it was paved still
harder; yet it is said that a palm-tree shot itself up near the
pedestal of this statue. In the city of Padua, one Caius Cornelius, who
had the character of a good augur, the fellow-citizen and acquaintance
of Livy, the historian, happened to be making some augural observations
that very day when the battle was fought. And first, as Livy tells us,
he pointed out the time of the fight, and said to those who were by
him, that just then the battle was begun, and the men engaged. When he
looked a second time, and observed the omens, he leaped up as if he had
been inspired, and cried out, "Caesar, you are victorious." This much
surprised the standers by, but he took the garland which he had on from
his head, and swore he would never wear it again till the event should
give authority to his art. This Livy positively states for a truth.
Caesar, as a memorial of his victory, gave the Thessalians their
freedom, and then went in pursuit of Pompey. When he was come into
Asia, to gratify Theopompus, the author of the collection of fables, he
enfranchised the Cnidians, and remitted one third of their tribute to
all the people of the province of Asia. When he came to Alexandria,
where Pompey was already murdered, he would not look upon Theodotus,
who presented him with his head, but taking only his signet, shed
tears. Those of Pompey's friends who had been arrested by the king of
Egypt, as they were wandering in those parts, he relieved, and offered
them his own friendship. In his letter to his friends at Rome, he told
them that the greatest and most signal pleasure his victory had given
him, was to be able continually to save the lives of fellow-citizens
who had fought against him. As to the war in Egypt, some say it was at
once dangerous and dishonorable, and noways necessary, but occasioned
only by his passion for Cleopatra. Others blame the ministers of the
king, and especially the eunuch Pothinus, who was the chief favorite,
and had lately killed Pompey, who had banished Cleopatra, and was now
secretly plotting Caesar's destruction, (to prevent which, Caesar from
that time began to sit up whole nights, under pretense of drinking, for
the security of his person,) while openly he was intolerable in his
affronts to Caesar, both by his words and actions. For when Caesar's
soldiers had musty and unwholesome corn measured out to them, Pothinus
told them they must be content with it, since they were fed at
another's cost. He ordered that his table should be served with wooden
and earthen dishes, and said Caesar had carried off all the gold and
silver plate, under pretense of arrears of debt. For the present king's
father owed Caesar one thousand seven hundred and fifty myriads of
money; Caesar had formerly remitted to his children the rest, but
thought fit to demand the thousand myriads at that time, to maintain
his army. Pothinus told him that he had better go now and attend to his
other affairs of greater consequence, and that he should receive his
money at another time with thanks. Caesar replied that he did not want
Egyptians to be his counselors, and soon after, privately sent for
Cleopatra from her retirement.
She took a small boat, and one only of her confidents, Apollodorus, the
Sicilian, along with her, and in the dusk of the evening landed near
the palace. She was at a loss how to get in undiscovered, till she
thought of putting herself into the coverlet of a bed and lying at
length, whilst Apollodorus tied up the bedding and carried it on his
back through the gates to Caesar's apartment. Caesar was first
captivated by this proof of Cleopatra's bold wit, and was afterwards so
overcome by the charm of her society, that he made a reconciliation
between her and her brother, on condition that she should rule as his
colleague in the kingdom. A festival was kept to celebrate this
reconciliation, where Caesar's barber, a busy, listening fellow, whose
excessive timidity made him inquisitive into everything, discovered
that there was a plot carrying on against Caesar by Achillas, general
of the king's forces, and Pothinus, the eunuch. Caesar, upon the first
intelligence of it, set a guard upon the hall where the feast was kept,
and killed Pothinus. Achillas escaped to the army, and raised a
troublesome and embarrassing war against Caesar, which it was not easy
for him to manage with his few soldiers against so powerful a city and
so large an army. The first difficulty he met with was want of water,
for the enemies had turned the canals. Another was, when the enemy
endeavored to cut off his communication by sea, he was forced to divert
that danger by setting fire to his own ships, which, after burning the
docks, thence spread on and destroyed the great library. A third was,
when in an engagement near Pharos, he leaped from the mole into a small
boat, to assist his soldiers who were in danger, and when the Egyptians
pressed him on every side, he threw himself into the sea, and with much
difficulty swam off. This was the time when, according to the story, he
had a number of manuscripts in his hand, which, though he was
continually darted at, and forced to keep his head often under water,
yet he did not let go, but held them up safe from wetting in one hand,
whilst he swam with the other. His boat, in the meantime, was quickly
sunk. At last, the king having gone off to Achillas and his party,
Caesar engaged and conquered them. Many fell in that battle, and the
king himself was never seen after. Upon this, he left Cleopatra queen
of Egypt, who soon after had a son by him, whom the Alexandrians called
Caesarion, and then departed for Syria.
Thence he passed to Asia, where he heard that Domitius was beaten by
Pharnaces, son of Mithridates, and had fled out of Pontus with a
handful of men; and that Pharnaces pursued the victory so eagerly, that
though he was already master of Bithynia and Cappadocia, he had a
further design of attempting the Lesser Armenia, and was inviting all
the kings and tetrarchs there to rise. Caesar immediately marched
against him with three legions, fought him near Zela, drove him out of
Pontus, and totally defeated his army. When he gave Amantius, a friend
of his at Rome, an account of this action, to express the promptness
and rapidity of it, he used three words, I came, saw, and conquered,
which in Latin having all the same cadence, carry with them a very
suitable air of brevity.
Hence he crossed into Italy, and came to Rome at the end of that year,
for which he had been a second time chosen dictator, though that office
had never before lasted a whole year, and was elected consul for the
next. He was ill spoken of, because upon a mutiny of some soldiers, who
killed Cosconius and Galba, who had been praetors, he gave them only
the slight reprimand of calling them Citizens, instead of
Fellow-Soldiers, and afterwards assigned to each man a thousand
drachmas, besides a share of lands in Italy. He was also reflected on
for Dolabella's extravagance, Amantius's covetousness, Antony's
debauchery, and Corfinius's profuseness, who pulled down Pompey's
house, and rebuilt it, as not magnificent enough; for the Romans were
much displeased with all these. But Caesar, for the prosecution of his
own scheme of government, though he knew their characters and
disapproved them, was forced to make use of those who would serve him.
After the battle of Pharsalia, Cato and Scipio fled into Africa, and
there, with the assistance of king Juba, got together a considerable
force, which Caesar resolved to engage. He, accordingly, passed into
Sicily about the winter-solstice, and to remove from his officers'
minds all hopes of delay there, encamped by the sea-shore, and as soon
as ever he had a fair wind, put to sea with three thousand foot and a
few horse. When he had landed them, he went back secretly, under some
apprehensions for the larger part of his army, but met them upon the
sea, and brought them all to the same camp. There he was informed that
the enemies relied much upon an ancient oracle, that the family of the
Scipios should be always victorious in Africa. There was in his army a
man, otherwise mean and contemptible, but of the house of the Africani,
and his name Scipio Sallutio. This man Caesar, (whether in raillery, to
ridicule Scipio, who commended the enemy, or seriously to bring over
the omen to his side, it were hard to say,) put at the head of his
troops, as if he were general, in all the frequent battles which he was
compelled to fight. For he was in such want both of victualing for his
men, and forage for his horses, that he was forced to feed the horses
with sea-weed, which he washed thoroughly to take off its saltiness,
and mixed with a little grass, to give it a more agreeable taste. The
Numidians, in great numbers, and well horsed, whenever he went, came up
and commanded the country. Caesar's cavalry being one day unemployed,
diverted themselves with seeing an African, who entertained them with
dancing and at the same time playing upon the pipe to admiration. They
were so taken with this, that they alighted, and gave their horses to
some boys, when on a sudden the enemy surrounded them, killed some,
pursued the rest, and fell in with them into their camp; and had not
Caesar himself and Asinius Pollio come to their assistance, and put a
stop to their flight, the war had been then at an end. In another
engagement, also, the enemy had again the better, when Caesar, it is
said, seized a standard-bearer, who was running away, by the neck, and
forcing him to face about, said, "Look, that is the way to the enemy."
Scipio, flushed with this success at first, had a mind to come to one
decisive action. He therefore left Afranius and Juba in two distinct
bodies not far distant, and marched himself towards Thapsus, where he
proceeded to build a fortified camp above a lake, to serve as a
center-point for their operations, and also as a place of refuge.
Whilst Scipio was thus employed, Caesar with incredible dispatch made
his way through thick woods, and a country supposed to be impassable,
cut off one party of the enemy, and attacked another in the front.
Having routed these, he followed up his opportunity and the current of
his good fortune, and on the first onset carried Afranius's camp, and
ravaged that of the Numidians, Juba, their king, being glad to save
himself by flight; so that in a small part of a single day he made
himself master of three camps, and killed fifty thousand of the enemy,
with the loss only of fifty of his own men. This is the account some
give of that fight. Others say, he was not in the action, but that he
was taken with his usual distemper just as he was setting his army in
order. He perceived the approaches of it, and before it had too far
disordered his senses, when he was already beginning to shake under its
influence, withdrew into a neighboring fort, where he reposed himself.
Of the men of consular and praetorian dignity that were taken after the
fight, several Caesar put to death, others anticipated him by killing
themselves.
Cato had undertaken to defend Utica, and for that reason was not in the
battle. The desire which Caesar had to take him alive, made him hasten
thither; and upon the intelligence that he had dispatched himself, he
was much discomposed, for what reason is not so well agreed. He
certainly said, "Cato, I must grudge you your death, as you grudged me
the honor of saving your life." Yet the discourse he wrote against Cato
after his death, is no great sign of his kindness, or that he was
inclined to be reconciled to him. For how is it probable that he would
have been tender of his life, when he was so bitter against his memory?
But from his clemency to Cicero, Brutus, and many others who fought
against him, it may be divined that Caesar's book was not written so
much out of animosity to Cato, as in his own vindication. Cicero had
written an encomium upon Cato, and called it by his name. A composition
by so great a master upon so excellent a subject, was sure to be in
everyone's hands. This touched Caesar, who looked upon a panegyric on
his enemy, as no better than an invective against himself; and
therefore he made in his Anti-Cato, a collection of whatever could be
said in his derogation. The two compositions, like Cato and Caesar
themselves, have each of them their several admirers.
Caesar, upon his return to Rome, did not omit to pronounce before the
people a magnificent account of his victory, telling them that he had
subdued a country which would supply the public every year with two
hundred thousand attic bushels of corn, and three million pounds weight
of oil. He then led three triumphs for Egypt, Pontus, and Africa, the
last for the victory over, not Scipio, but king Juba, as it was
professed, whose little son was then carried in the triumph, the
happiest captive that ever was, who of a barbarian Numidian, came by
this means to obtain a place among the most learned historians of
Greece. After the triumphs, he distributed rewards to his soldiers, and
treated the people with feasting and shows. He entertained the whole
people together at one feast, where twenty-two thousand dining couches
were laid out; and he made a display of gladiators, and of battles by
sea, in honor, as he said, of his daughter Julia, though she had been
long since dead. When these shows were over, an account was taken of
the people, who from three hundred and twenty thousand, were now
reduced to one hundred and fifty thousand. So great a waste had the
civil war made in Rome alone, not to mention what the other parts of
Italy and the provinces suffered.
He was now chosen a fourth time consul, and went into Spain against
Pompey's sons. They were but young, yet had gathered together a very
numerous army, and showed they had courage and conduct to command it,
so that Caesar was in extreme danger. The great battle was near the
town of Munda, in which Caesar seeing his men hard pressed, and making
but a weak resistance, ran through the ranks among the soldiers, and
crying out, asked them whether they were not ashamed to deliver him
into the hands of boys? At last, with great difficulty, and the best
efforts he could make, he forced back the enemy, killing thirty
thousand of them, though with the loss of one thousand of his best men.
When he came back from the fight, he told his friends that he had often
fought for victory, but this was the first time that he had ever fought
for life. This battle was won on the feast of Bacchus, the very day in
which Pompey, four years before. had set out for the war. The younger
of Pompey's sons escaped; but Didius, some days after the fight,
brought the head of the elder to Caesar. This was the last war he was
engaged in. The triumph which he celebrated for this victory,
displeased the Romans beyond any thing. For he had not defeated foreign
generals, or barbarian kings, but had destroyed the children and family
of one of the greatest men of Rome, though unfortunate; and it did not
look well to lead a procession in celebration of the calamities of his
country, and to rejoice in those things for which no other apology
could be made either to gods or men, than their being absolutely
necessary. Besides that, hitherto he had never sent letters or
messengers to announce any victory over his fellow-citizens, but had
seemed rather to be ashamed of the action, than to expect honor from it.
Nevertheless his countrymen, conceding all to his fortune, and
accepting the bit, in the hope that the government of a single person
would give them time to breathe after so many civil wars and
calamities, made him dictator for life. This was indeed a tyranny
avowed, since his power now was not only absolute, but perpetual too.
Cicero made the first proposals to the senate for conferring honors
upon him, which might in some sort be said not to exceed the limits of
ordinary human moderation. But others, striving which should deserve
most, carried them so excessively high, that they made Caesar odious to
the most indifferent and moderate sort of men, by the pretension and
the extravagance of the titles which they decreed him. His enemies,
too, are thought to have had some share in this, as well as his
flatterers. It gave them advantage against him, and would be their
justification for any attempt they should make upon him; for since the
civil wars were ended, he had nothing else that he could be charged
with. And they had good reason to decree a temple to Clemency, in token
of their thanks for the mild use he made of his victory. For he not
only pardoned many of those who fought against him, but, further, to
some gave honors and offices; as particularly to Brutus and Cassius,
who both of them were praetors. Pompey's images that were thrown down,
he set up again, upon which Cicero also said that by raising Pompey's
statues he had fixed his own. When his friends advised him to have a
guard, and several offered their service, he would not hear of it; but
said it was better to suffer death once, than always to live in fear of
it. He looked upon the affections of the people to be the best and
surest guard, and entertained them again with public feasting, and
general distributions of corn; and to gratify his army, he sent out
colonies to several places, of which the most remarkable were Carthage
and Corinth; which as before they had been ruined at the same time, so
now were restored and repeopled together.
As for the men of high rank, he promised to some of them future
consulships and praetorships, some he consoled with other offices and
honors, and to all held out hopes of favor by the solicitude he showed
to rule with the general good-will; insomuch that upon the death of
Maximus one day before his consulship was ended, he made Caninius
Revilius consul for that day. And when many went to pay the usual
compliments and attentions to the new consul, "Let us make haste," said
Cicero, "lest the man be gone out of his office before we come."
Caesar was born to do great things, and had a passion after honor, and
the many noble exploits he had done did not now serve as an inducement
to him to sit still and reap the fruit of his past labors, but were
incentives and encouragments to go on, and raised in him ideas of still
greater actions, and a desire of new glory, as if the present were all
spent. It was in fact a sort of emulous struggle with himself, as it
had been with another, how he might outdo his past actions by his
future. In pursuit of these thoughts, he resolved to make war upon the
Parthians, and when he had subdued them, to pass through Hyrcania;
thence to march along by the Caspian Sea to Mount Caucasus, and so on
about Pontus, till he came into Scythia; then to overrun all the
countries bordering upon Germany, and Germany itself; and so to return
through Gaul into Italy, after completing the whole circle of his
intended empire, and bounding it on every side by the ocean. While
preparations were making for this expedition, he proposed to dig
through the isthmus on which Corinth stands; and appointed Anienus to
superintend the work. He had also a design of diverting the Tiber, and
carrying it by a deep channel directly from Rome to Circeii, and so
into the sea near Tarracina, that there might be a safe and easy
passage for all merchants who traded to Rome. Besides this, he intended
to drain all the marshes by Pomentium and Setia, and gain ground enough
from the water to employ many thousands of men in tillage. He proposed
further to make great mounds on the shore nearest Rome, to hinder the
sea from breaking in upon the land, to clear the coast at Ostia of all
the hidden rocks and shoals that made it unsafe for shipping, and to
form ports and harbors fit to receive the large number of vessels that
would frequent them.
These things were designed without being carried into effect; but his
reformation of the calendar, in order to rectify the irregularity of
time, was not only projected with great scientific ingenuity, but was
brought to its completion, and proved of very great use. For it was not
only in ancient times that the Romans had wanted a certain rule to make
the revolutions of their months fall in with the course of the year, so
that their festivals and solemn days for sacrifice were removed by
little and little, till at last they came to be kept at seasons quite
the contrary to what was at first intended, but even at this time the
people had no way of computing the solar year; only the priests could
say the time, and they, at their pleasure, without giving any notice,
slipped in the intercalary month, which they called Mercedonius. Numa
was the first who put in this month, but his expedient was but a poor
one and quite inadequate to correct all the errors that arose in the
returns of the annual cycles, as we have shown in his life. Caesar
called in the best philosophers and mathematicians of his time to
settle the point, and out of the systems he had before him, formed a
new and more exact method of correcting the calendar, which the Romans
use to this day, and seem to succeed better than any nation in avoiding
the errors occasioned by the inequality of the cycles. Yet even this
gave offense to those who looked with an evil eye on his position, and
felt oppressed by his power. Cicero, the orator, when someone in his
company chanced to say, the next morning Lyra would rise, replied,
"Yes, in accordance with the edict," as if even this were a matter of
compulsion.
But that which brought upon him the most apparent and mortal hatred,
was his desire of being king; which gave the common people the first
occasion to quarrel with him, and proved the most specious pretense to
those who had been his secret enemies all along. Those, who would have
procured him that title, gave it out, that it was foretold in the
Sybils' books that the Romans should conquer the Parthians when they
fought against them under the conduct of a king, but not before. And
one day, as Caesar was coming down from Alba to Rome, some were so bold
as to salute him by the name of king; but he finding the people
disrelish it, seemed to resent it himself, and said his name was
Caesar, not king. Upon this, there was a general silence, and he passed
on looking not very well pleased or contented. Another time, when the
senate had conferred on him some extravagant honors, he chanced to
receive the message as he was sitting on the rostra, where, though the
consuls and praetors themselves waited on him, attended by the whole
body of the senate, he did not rise, but behaved himself to them as if
they had been private men, and told them his honors wanted rather to be
retrenched than increased. This treatment offended not only the senate,
but the commonalty too, as if they thought the affront upon the senate
equally reflected upon the whole republic; so that all who could
decently leave him went off, looking much discomposed. Caesar,
perceiving the false step he had made, immediately retired home; and
laying his throat bare, told his friends that he was ready to offer
this to anyone who would give the stroke. But afterwards he made the
malady from which he suffered, the excuse for his sitting, saying that
those who are attacked by it, lose their presence of mind, if they talk
much standing; that they presently grow giddy, fall into convulsions,
and quite lose their reason. But this was not the reality, for he would
willingly have stood up to the senate, had not Cornelius Balbus, one of
his friends, or rather flatterers, hindered him. "Will you not
remember," said he, "you are Caesar, and claim the honor which is due
to your merit?"
He gave a fresh occasion of resentment by his affront to the tribunes.
The Lupercalia were then celebrated, a feast at the first institution
belonging, as some writers say, to the shepherds, and having some
connection with the Arcadian Lycaea. Many young noblemen and
magistrates run up and down the city with their upper garments off,
striking all they meet with thongs of hide, by way of sport; and many
women, even of the highest rank, place themselves in the way, and hold
out their hands to the lash, as boys in a school do to the master, out
of a belief that it procures an easy labor to those who are with child,
and makes those conceive who are barren. Caesar, dressed in a triumphal
robe, seated himself in a golden chair at the rostra, to view this
ceremony. Antony, as consul, was one of those who ran this course, and
when he came into the forum, and the people made way for him, he went
up and reached to Caesar a diadem wreathed with laurel. Upon this,
there was a shout, but only a slight one, made by the few who were
planted there for that purpose; but when Caesar refused it, there was
universal applause. Upon the second offer, very few, and upon the
second refusal, all again applauded. Caesar finding it would not take,
rose up, and ordered the crown to be carried into the capitol. Caesar's
statues were afterwards found with royal diadems on their heads.
Flavius and Marullus, two tribunes of the people, went presently and
pulled them off, and having apprehended those who first saluted Caesar
as king, committed them to prison. The people followed them with
acclamations, and called them by the name of Brutus, because Brutus was
the first who ended the succession of kings, and transferred the power
which before was lodged in one man into the hands of the senate and
people. Caesar so far resented this, that he displaced Marullus and
Flavius; and in urging his charges against them, at the same time
ridiculed the people, by himself giving the men more than once the
names of Bruti, and Cumaei.
This made the multitude turn their thoughts to Marcus Brutus, who, by
his father's side, was thought to be descended from that first Brutus,
and by his mother's side from the Servilii, another noble family, being
besides nephew and son-in-law to Cato. But the honors and favors he had
received from Caesar, took off the edge from the desires he might
himself have felt for overthrowing the new monarchy. For he had not
only been pardoned himself after Pompey's defeat at Pharsalia, and had
procured the same grace for many of his friends, but was one in whom
Caesar had a particular confidence. He had at that time the most
honorable praetorship of the year, and was named for the consulship
four years after, being preferred before Cassius, his competitor. Upon
the question as to the choice, Caesar, it is related, said that Cassius
had the fairer pretensions, but that he could not pass by Brutus. Nor
would he afterwards listen to some who spoke against Brutus, when the
conspiracy against him was already afoot, but laying his hand on his
body, said to the informers, "Brutus will wait for this skin of mine,"
intimating that he was worthy to bear rule on account of his virtue,
but would not be base and ungrateful to gain it. Those who desired a
change, and looked on him as the only, or at least the most proper,
person to effect it, did not venture to speak with him; but in the
night time laid papers about his chair of state, where he used to sit
and determine causes, with such sentences in them as, "You are asleep,
Brutus," "You are no longer Brutus." Cassius, when he perceived his
ambition a little raised upon this, was more instant than before to
work him yet further, having himself a private grudge against Caesar,
for some reasons that we have mentioned in the Life of Brutus. Nor was
Caesar without suspicions of him, and said once to his friends, "What
do you think Cassius is aiming at? I don't like him, he looks so pale."
And when it was told him that Antony and Dolabella were in a plot
against him, he said he did not fear such fat, luxurious men, but
rather the pale, lean fellows, meaning Cassius and Brutus.
Fate, however, is to all appearance more unavoidable than unexpected.
For many strange prodigies and apparitions are said to have been
observed shortly before the event. As to the lights in the heavens, the
noises heard in the night, and the wild birds which perched in the
forum, these are not perhaps worth taking notice of in so great a case
as this. Strabo, the philosopher, tells us that a number of men were
seen, looking as if they were heated through with fire, contending with
each other; that a quantity of flame issued from the hand of a
soldier's servant, so that they who saw it thought he must be burnt,
but that after all he had no hurt. As Caesar was sacrificing, the
victim's heart was missing, a very bad omen, because no living creature
can subsist without a heart. One finds it also related by many, that a
soothsayer bade him prepare for some great danger on the ides of March.
When the day was come, Caesar, as he went to the senate, met this
soothsayer, and said to him by way of raillery, "The ides of March are
come;" who answered him calmly, "Yes, they are come, but they are not
past." The day before this assassination, he supped with Marcus
Lepidus; and as he was signing some letters, according to his custom,
as he reclined at table, there arose a question what sort of death was
the best. At which he immediately, before anyone could speak, said, "A
sudden one."
After this, as he was in bed with his wife, all the doors and windows
of the house flew open together; he was startled at the noise, and the
light which broke into the room, and sat up in his bed, where by the
moonshine he perceived Calpurnia fast asleep, but heard her utter in
her dream some indistinct words and inarticulate groans. She fancied at
that time she was weeping over Caesar, and holding him butchered in her
arms. Others say this was not her dream, but that she dreamed that a
pinnacle which the senate, as Livy relates, had ordered to be raised on
Caesar's house by way of ornament and grandeur, was tumbling down,
which was the occasion of her tears and ejaculations. When it was day,
she begged of Caesar, if it were possible, not to stir out, but to
adjourn the senate to another time; and if he slighted her dreams, that
he would be pleased to consult his fate by sacrifices, and other kinds
of divination. Nor was he himself without some suspicion and fears; for
he never before discovered any womanish superstition in Calpurnia, whom
he now saw in such great alarm. Upon the report which the priests made
to him, that they had killed several sacrifices, and still found them
inauspicious, he resolved to send Antony to dismiss the senate.
In this juncture, Decimus Brutus, surnamed Albinus, one whom Caesar had
such confidence in that he made him his second heir, who nevertheless
was engaged in the conspiracy with the other Brutus and Cassius,
fearing lest if Caesar should put off the senate to another day, the
business might get wind, spoke scoffingly and in mockery of the
diviners, and blamed Caesar for giving the senate so fair an occasion
of saying he had put a slight upon them, for that they were met upon
his summons, and were ready to vote unanimously, that he should be
declared king of all the provinces out of Italy, and might wear a
diadem in any other place but Italy, by sea or land. If anyone should
be sent to tell them they might break up for the present, and meet
again when Calpurnia should chance to have better dreams, what would
his enemies say? Or who would with any patience hear his friends, if
they should presume to defend his government as not arbitrary and
tyrannical? But if he was possessed so far as to think this day
unfortunate, yet it were more decent to go himself to the senate, and
to adjourn it in his own person. Brutus, as he spoke these words, took
Caesar by the hand, and conducted him forth. He was not gone far from
the door, when a servant of some other person's made towards him, but
not being able to come up to him, on account of the crowd of those who
pressed about him, he made his way into the house, and committed
himself to Calpurnia, begging of her to secure him till Caesar
returned, because he had matters of great importance to communicate to
him.
Artemidorus, a Cnidian, a teacher of Greek logic, and by that means so
far acquainted with Brutus and his friends as to have got into the
secret, brought Caesar in a small written memorial, the heads of what
he had to depose. He had observed that Caesar, as he received any
papers, presently gave them to the servants who attended on him; and
therefore came as near to him as he could, and said, "Read this,
Caesar, alone, and quickly, for it contains matter of great importance
which nearly concerns you." Caesar received it, and tried several times
to read it, but was still hindered by the crowd of those who came to
speak to him. However, he kept it in his hand by itself till he came
into the senate. Some say it was another who gave Caesar this note, and
that Artemidorus could not get to him, being all along kept off by the
crowd.
All these things might happen by chance. But the place which was
destined for the scene of this murder, in which the senate met that
day, was the same in which Pompey's statue stood, and was one of the
edifices which Pompey had raised and dedicated with his theater to the
use of the public, plainly showing that there was something of a
supernatural influence which guided the action, and ordered it to that
particular place. Cassius, just before the act, is said to have looked
towards Pompey's statue, and silently implored his assistance, though
he had been inclined to the doctrines of Epicurus. But this occasion,
and the instant danger, carried him away out of all his reasonings, and
filled him for the time with a sort of inspiration. As for Antony, who
was firm to Caesar, and a strong man, Brutus Albinus kept him outside
the house, and delayed him with a long conversation contrived on
purpose. When Caesar entered, the senate stood up to show their respect
to him, and of Brutus's confederates, some came about his chair and
stood behind it, others met him, pretending to add their petitions to
those of Tillius Cimber, in behalf of his brother, who was in exile;
and they followed him with their joint supplications till he came to
his seat. When he was sat down, he refused to comply with their
requests, and upon their urging him further, began to reproach them
severally for their importunities, when Tillius, laying hold of his
robe with both his hands, pulled it down from his neck, which was the
signal for the assault. Casca gave him the first cut, in the neck,
which was not mortal nor dangerous, as coming from one who at the
beginning of such a bold action was probably very much disturbed.
Caesar immediately turned about, and laid his hand upon the dagger and
kept hold of it. And both of them at the same time cried out, he that
received the blow, in Latin, "Vile Casca, what does this mean?" and he
that gave it, in Greek, to his brother, "Brother, help!" Upon this
first onset, those who were not privy to the design were astonished and
their horror and amazement at what they saw were so great, that they
durst not fly nor assist Caesar, nor so much as speak a word. But those
who came prepared for the business enclosed him on every side, with
their naked daggers in their hands. Which way soever he turned, he met
with blows, and saw their swords leveled at his face and eyes, and was
encompassed, like a wild beast in the toils, on every side. For it had
been agreed they should each of them make a thrust at him, and flesh
themselves with his blood; for which reason Brutus also gave him one
stab in the groin. Some say that he fought and resisted all the rest,
shifting his body to avoid the blows, and calling out for help, but
that when he saw Brutus's sword drawn, he covered his face with his
robe and submitted, letting himself fall, whether it were by chance, or
that he was pushed in that direction by his murderers, at the foot of
the pedestal on which Pompey's statue stood, and which was thus wetted
with his blood. So that Pompey himself seemed to have presided, as it
were, over the revenge done upon his adversary, who lay here at his
feet, and breathed out his soul through his multitude of wounds, for
they say he received three and twenty. And the conspirators themselves
were many of them wounded by each other, whilst they all leveled their
blows at the same person.
When Caesar was dispatched, Brutus stood forth to give a reason for
what they had done, but the senate would not hear him, but flew out of
doors in all haste, and filled the people with so much alarm and
distraction, that some shut up their houses, others left their counters
and shops. All ran one way or the other, some to the place to see the
sad spectacle, others back again after they had seen it. Antony and
Lepidus, Caesar's most faithful friends, got off privately, and hid
themselves in some friends' houses. Brutus and his followers, being yet
hot from the deed, marched in a body from the senate-house to the
capitol with their drawn swords, not like persons who thought of
escaping, but with an air of confidence and assurance, and as they went
along, called to the people to resume their liberty, and invited the
company of any more distinguished people whom they met. And some of
these joined the procession and went up along with them, as if they
also had been of the conspiracy, and could claim a share in the honor
of what had been done. As, for example, Caius Octavius and Lentulus
Spinther, who suffered afterwards for their vanity, being taken off by
Antony and the young Caesar, and lost the honor they desired, as well
as their lives, which it cost them, since no one believed they had any
share in the action. For neither did those who punished them profess to
revenge the fact, but the ill-will. The day after, Brutus with the rest
came down from the capitol, and made a speech to the people, who
listened without expressing either any pleasure or resentment, but
showed by their silence that they pitied Caesar, and respected Brutus.
The senate passed acts of oblivion for what was past, and took measures
to reconcile all parties. They ordered that Caesar should be worshipped
as a divinity, and nothing, even of the slightest consequence, should
be revoked, which he had enacted during his government. At the same
time they gave Brutus and his followers the command of provinces, and
other considerable posts. So that all people now thought things were
well settled, and brought to the happiest adjustment.
But when Caesar's will was opened, and it was found that he had left a
considerable legacy to each one of the Roman citizens, and when his
body was seen carried through the market-place all mangled with wounds,
the multitude could no longer contain themselves within the bounds of
tranquillity and order, but heaped together a pile of benches, bars,
and tables, which they placed the corpse on, and setting fire to it,
burnt it on them. Then they took brands from the pile, and ran some to
fire the houses of the conspirators, others up and down the city, to
find out the men and tear them to pieces, but met, however, with none
of them, they having taken effectual care to secure themselves.
One Cinna, a friend of Caesar's, chanced the night before to have an
odd dream. He fancied that Caesar invited him to supper, and that upon
his refusal to go with him, Caesar took him by the hand and forced him,
though he hung back. Upon hearing the report that Caesar's body was
burning in the market-place, he got up and went thither, out of respect
to his memory, though his dream gave him some ill apprehensions, and
though he was suffering from a fever. One of the crowd who saw him
there, asked another who that was, and having learned his name, told it
to his next neighbor. It presently passed for a certainty that he was
one of Caesar's murderers, as, indeed, there was another Cinna, a
conspirator, and they, taking this to be the man, immediately seized
him, and tore him limb from limb upon the spot.
Brutus and Cassius, frightened at this, within a few days retired out
of the city. What they afterwards did and suffered, and how they died,
is written in the Life of Brutus. Caesar died in his fifty-sixth year,
not having survived Pompey above four years. That empire and power
which he had pursued through the whole course of his life with so much
hazard, he did at last with much difficulty compass, but reaped no
other fruits from it than the empty name and invidious glory. But the
great genius which attended him through his lifetime, even after his
death remained as the avenger of his murder, pursuing through every sea
and land all those who were concerned in it, and suffering none to
escape, but reaching all who in any sort or kind were either actually
engaged in the fact, or by their counsels any way promoted it.
The most remarkable of mere human coincidences was that which befell
Cassius, who, when he was defeated at Philippi, killed himself with the
same dagger which he had made use of against Caesar. The most signal
preternatural appearances were the great comet, which shone very bright
for seven nights after Caesar's death, and then disappeared, and the
dimness of the sun, whose orb continued pale and dull for the whole of
that year, never showing its ordinary radiance at its rising, and
giving but a weak and feeble heat. The air consequently was damp and
gross, for want of stronger rays to open and rarify it. The fruits, for
that reason, never properly ripened, and began to wither and fall off
for want of heat, before they were fully formed. But above all, the
phantom which appeared to Brutus showed the murder was not pleasing to
the gods. The story of it is this.
Brutus being to pass his army from Abydos to the continent on the other
side, laid himself down one night, as he used to do, in his tent, and
was not asleep, but thinking of his affairs, and what events he might
expect. For he is related to have been the least inclined to sleep of
all men who have commanded armies, and to have had the greatest natural
capacity for continuing awake, and employing himself without need of
rest. He thought he heard a noise at the door of his tent, and looking
that way, by the light of his lamp, which was almost out, saw a
terrible figure, like that of a man, but of unusual stature and severe
countenance. He was somewhat frightened at first, but seeing it neither
did nor spoke anything to him, only stood silently by his bed-side, he
asked who it was. The specter answered him, "Thy evil genius, Brutus,
thou shalt see me at Philippi." Brutus answered courageously, "Well, I
shall see you," and immediately the appearance vanished. When the time
was come, he drew up his army near Philippi against Antony and Caesar,
and in the first battle won the day, routed the enemy, and plundered
Caesar's camp. The night before the second battle, the same phantom
appeared to him again, but spoke not a word. He presently understood
his destiny was at hand, and exposed himself to all the danger of the
battle. Yet he did not die in the fight, but seeing his men defeated,
got up to the top of a rock, and there presenting his sword to his
naked breast, and assisted, as they say, by a friend, who helped him to
give the thrust, met his death.
PHOCION
Demades, the orator, when in the height of the power which he obtained
at Athens by advising the state in the interest of Antipater and the
Macedonians, being necessitated to write and speak many things below
the dignity, and contrary to the character, of the city, was wont to
excuse himself by saying he steered only the shipwrecks of the
commonwealth. This hardy saying of his might have some appearance of
truth, if applied to Phocion's government. For Demades indeed was
himself the mere wreck of his country, living and ruling so
dissolutely, that Antipater took occasion to say of him, when he was
now grown old, that he was like a sacrificed beast, all consumed except
the tongue and the belly. But Phocion's was a real virtue, only
overmatched in the unequal contest with an adverse time, and rendered
by the ill fortunes of Greece inglorious and obscure. We must not,
indeed, allow ourselves to concur with Sophocles in so far diminishing
the force of virtue as to say that,
When fortune fails, the sense we had before
Deserts us also, and is ours no more.
Yet thus much, indeed, must be allowed to happen in the conflicts
between good men and ill fortune, that instead of due returns of honor
and gratitude, obloquy and unjust surmises may often prevail, to
weaken, in a considerable degree, the credit of their virtue.
It is commonly said that public bodies are most insulting and
contumelious to a good man, when they are puffed up with prosperity and
success. But the contrary often happens; afflictions and public
calamities naturally embittering and souring the minds and tempers of
men, and disposing them to such peevishness and irritability, that
hardly any word or sentiment of common vigor can be addressed to them,
but they will be apt to take offense. He that remonstrates with them on
their errors, is presumed to be insulting over their misfortunes, and
any free spoken expostulation is construed into contempt. Honey itself
is searching in sore and ulcerated parts; and the wisest and most
judicious counsels prove provoking to distempered minds, unless offered
with those soothing and compliant approaches which made the poet, for
instance, characterize agreeable things in general, by a word
expressive of a grateful and easy touch, exciting nothing of offense or
resistance. Inflamed eyes require a retreat into dusky places, amongst
colors of the deepest shades, and are unable to endure the brilliancy
of light. So fares it in the body politic, in times of distress and
humiliation; a certain sensitiveness and soreness of humor prevail,
with a weak incapacity of enduring any free and open advice, even when
the necessity of affairs most requires such plain-dealing, and when the
consequences of any single error may be beyond retrieving. At such
times the conduct of public affairs is on all hands most hazardous.
Those who humor the people are swallowed up in the common ruin; those
who endeavor to lead them aright, perish the first in their attempt.
Astronomers tell us, the sun's motion is neither exactly parallel with
that of the heavens in general, nor yet directly and diametrically
opposite, but describing an oblique line, with insensible declination
he steers his course in such a gentle, easy curve, as to dispense his
light and influence, in his annual revolution, at several seasons, in
just proportions to the whole creation. So it happens in political
affairs; if the motions of rulers be constantly opposite and cross to
the tempers and inclination of the people, they will be resented as
arbitrary and harsh; as, on the other side, too much deference, or
encouragement, as too often it has been, to popular faults and errors,
is full of danger and ruinous consequences. But where concession is the
response to willing obedience, and a statesman gratifies his people,
that he may the more imperatively recall them to a sense of the common
interest, then, indeed, human beings, who are ready enough to serve
well and submit to much, if they are not always ordered about and
roughly handled, like slaves, may be said to be guided and governed
upon the method that leads to safety. Though it must be confessed, it
is a nice point and extremely difficult, so to temper this lenity as to
preserve the authority of the government. But if such a blessed mixture
and temperament may be obtained, it seems to be of all concords and
harmonies the most concordant and most harmonious. For thus we are
taught even God governs the world, not by irresistible force, but
persuasive argument and reason, controlling it into compliance with his
eternal purposes.
Cato the younger is a similar instance. His manners were little
agreeable or acceptable to the people, and he received very slender
marks of their favor; witness his repulse when he sued for the
consulship, which he lost, as Cicero says, for acting rather like a
citizen in Plato's commonwealth, than among the dregs of Romulus's
posterity, the same thing happening to him, in my opinion, as we
observe in fruits ripe before their season, which we rather take
pleasure in looking at and admiring, than actually use; so much was his
old-fashioned virtue out of the present mode, among the depraved
customs which time and luxury had introduced, that it appeared indeed
remarkable and wonderful, but was too great and too good to suit the
present exigencies, being so out of all proportion to the times. Yet
his circumstances were not altogether like Phocion's, who came to the
helm when the ship of the state was just upon sinking. Cato's time was,
indeed, stormy and tempestuous, yet so as he was able to assist in
managing the sails, and lend his helping hand to those who, which he
was not allowed to do, commanded at the helm. Others were to blame for
the result; yet his courage and virtue made it in spite of all a hard
task for fortune to ruin the commonwealth, and it was only with long
time and effort and by slow degrees, when he himself had all but
succeeded in averting it, that the catastrophe was at last effected.
Phocion and he may be well compared together, not for any mere general
resemblances, as though we should say, both were good men and great
statesmen. For assuredly there is difference enough among virtues of
the same denomination, as between the bravery of Alcibiades and that of
Epaminondas, the prudence of Themistocles and that of Aristides, the
justice of Numa and that of Agesilaus. But these men's virtues, even
looking to the most minute points of difference, bear the same color,
stamp, and character impressed upon them, so as not to be
distinguishable. The mixture is still made in the same exact
proportions, whether we look at the combination to be found in them
both of lenity on the one hand, with austerity on the other; their
boldness upon some occasions, and caution on others; their extreme
solicitude for the public, and perfect neglect of themselves; their
fixed and immovable bent to all virtuous and honest actions,
accompanied with an extreme tenderness and scrupulosity as to doing
anything which might appear mean or unworthy; so that we should need a
very nice and subtle logic of discrimination to detect and establish
the distinctions between them.
As to Cato's extraction, it is confessed by all to have been
illustrious, as will be said hereafter, nor was Phocion's, I feel
assured, obscure or ignoble. For had he been the son of a turner, as
Idomeneus reports, it had certainly not been forgotten to his
disparagement by Glaucippus, the son of Hyperides, when heaping up a
thousand spiteful things to say against him. Nor, indeed, had it been
possible for him, in such circumstances, to have had such a liberal
breeding and education in his youth, as to be first Plato's, and
afterwards Xenocrates's scholar in the Academy, and to have devoted
himself from the first to the pursuit of the noblest studies and
practices. His countenance was so composed, that scarcely was he ever
seen by any Athenian either laughing, or in tears. He was rarely known,
so Duris has recorded, to appear in the public baths, or was observed
with his hand exposed outside his cloak, when he wore one. Abroad, and
in the camp, he was so hardy in going always thin clad and barefoot,
except in a time of excessive and intolerable cold, that the soldiers
used to say in merriment, that it was like to be a hard winter when
Phocion wore his coat.
Although he was most gentle and humane in his disposition, his aspect
was stern and forbidding, so that he was seldom accosted alone by any
who were not intimate with him. When Chares once made some remark on
his frowning looks, and the Athenians laughed at the jest. "My
sullenness," said Phocion, "never yet made any of you sad, but these
men's jollities have given you sorrow enough." In like manner Phocion's
language, also, was full of instruction, abounding in happy maxims and
wise thoughts, but admitted no embellishment to its austere and
commanding brevity. Zeno said a philosopher should never speak till his
words had been steeped in meaning; and such, it may be said, were
Phocion's, crowding the greatest amount of significance into the
smallest allowance of space. And to this, probably, Polyeuctus, the
Sphettian, referred, when he said that Demosthenes was, indeed, the
best orator of his time, but Phocion the most powerful speaker. His
oratory, like small coin of great value, was to be estimated, not by
its bulk, but its intrinsic worth. He was once observed, it is said,
when the theater was filling with the audience, to walk musing alone
behind the scenes, which one of his friends taking notice of, said,
"Phocion, you seem to be thoughtful." "Yes," replied he, "I am
considering how I may shorten what I am going to say to the Athenians."
Even Demosthenes himself, who used to despise the rest of the
haranguers, when Phocion stood up, was wont to say quietly to those
about him, "Here is the pruning-knife of my periods." This however,
might refer, perhaps, not so much to his eloquence, as to the influence
of his character, since not only a word, but even a nod from a person
who is esteemed, is of more force than a thousand arguments or studied
sentences from others.
In his youth he followed Chabrias, the general, from whom he gained
many lessons in military knowledge, and in return did something to
correct his unequal and capricious humor. For whereas at other times
Chabrias was heavy and phlegmatic, in the heat of battle he used to be
so fired and transported, that he threw himself headlong into danger
beyond the forwardest, which, indeed, in the end, cost him his life in
the island of Chios, he having pressed his own ship foremost to force a
landing. But Phocion, being a man of temper as well as courage, had the
dexterity at some times to rouse the general, when in his
procrastinating mood, to action, and at others to moderate and cool the
impetuousness of his unseasonable fury. Upon which account Chabrias,
who was a good-natured, kindly-tempered man, loved him much, and
procured him commands and opportunities for action, giving him means to
make himself known in Greece, and using his assistance in all his
affairs of moment. Particularly the sea-fight at Naxos added not a
little to Phocion's reputation, when he had the left squadron committed
to him by Chabrias, as in this quarter the battle was sharply
contested, and was decided by a speedy victory. And this being the
first prosperous sea-battle the city had engaged in with its own force
since its captivity, Chabrias won great popularity by it, and Phocion,
also, got the reputation of a good commander. The victory was gained at
the time of the Great Mysteries, and Chabrias used to keep the
commemoration of it, by distributing wine among the Athenians, yearly,
on the sixteenth day of Boedromion.
After this, Chabrias sent Phocion to demand their quota of the charges
of the war from the islanders, and offered him a guard of twenty ships.
Phocion told him, if he intended him to go against them as enemies,
that force was insignificant; if as to friends and allies, one vessel
was sufficient. So he took his own single galley, and having visited
the cities, and treated with the magistrates in an equitable and open
manner, he brought back a number of ships, sent by the confederates to
Athens, to convey the supplies. Neither did his friendship and
attention close with Chabrias's life, but after his decease he
carefully maintained it to all that were related to him, and chiefly to
his son Ctesippus, whom he labored to bring to some good, and although
he was a stupid and intractable young fellow, always endeavored, so far
as in him lay, to correct and cover his faults and follies. Once,
however, when the youngster was very impertinent and troublesome to him
in the camp, interrupting him with idle questions, and putting forward
his opinions and suggestions of how the war should be conducted, he
could not forbear exclaiming, "O Chabrias, Chabrias, how grateful I
show myself for your friendship, in submitting to endure your son."
Upon looking into public matters, and the way in which they were now
conducted, he observed that the administration of affairs was cut and
parceled out, like so much land by allotment, between the military men
and the public speakers, so that neither these nor those should
interfere with the claims of the others. As the one were to address the
assemblies, to draw up votes and prepare motions, men, for example,
like Eubulus, Aristophon, Demosthenes, Lycurgus, and Hyperides, and
were to push their interests here; so, in the meantime, Diopithes,
Menestheus, Leosthenes, and Chares, were to make their profit by war
and in military commands. Phocion, on the other hand, was desirous to
restore and carry out the old system, more complete in itself, and more
harmonious and uniform, which prevailed in the times of Pericles,
Aristides, and Solon; when statesmen showed themselves, to use
Archilochus's words, --
Mars' and the Muses' friends alike designed,
To arts and arms indifferently inclined,
and the presiding goddess of his country was, he did not fail to see,
the patroness and protectress of both civil and military wisdom. With
these views, while his advice at home was always for peace and
quietness, he nevertheless held the office of general more frequently
than any of the statesmen, not only of his own times, but of those
preceding, never, indeed, promoting or encouraging military
expeditions, yet never, on the other hand, shunning or declining, when
he was called upon by the public voice. Thus much is well known, that
he was no less than forty-five several times chosen general, he being
never on any one of those occasions present at the election, but having
the command, in his absence, by common suffrage, conferred on him, and
he sent for on purpose to undertake it. Insomuch that it amazed those
who did not well consider, to see the people always prefer Phocion, who
was so far from humoring them or courting their favor, that he always
thwarted and opposed them. But so it was, as great men and princes are
said to call in their flatterers when dinner has been served, so the
Athenians, upon slight occasions, entertained and diverted themselves
with their spruce speakers and trim orators, but when it came to
action, they were sober and considerate enough to single out the
austerest and wisest for public employment, however much he might be
opposed to their wishes and sentiments. This, indeed, he made no
scruple to admit, when the oracle from Delphi was read, which informed
them that the Athenians were all of one mind, a single dissentient only
excepted, frankly coming forward and declaring that they need look no
further; he was the man, there was no one but he who was dissatisfied
with everything they did. And when once he gave his opinion to the
people, and was met with the general approbation and applause of the
assembly, turning to some of his friends, he asked them, "Have I
inadvertently said something foolish?"
Upon occasion of a public festivity, being solicited for his
contribution by the example of others, and the people pressing him
much, he bade them apply themselves to the wealthy; for his part he
should blush to make a present here, rather than a repayment there,
turning and, pointing to Callicles, the money-lender. Being still
clamored upon and importuned, he told them this tale. A certain
cowardly fellow setting out for the wars, hearing the ravens croak in
his passage, threw down his arms, resolving to wait. Presently he took
them and ventured out again, but hearing the same music, once more made
a stop. "For," said he, "you may croak till you are tired, but you
shall make no dinner upon me."
The Athenians urging him at an unseasonable time to lead them out
against the enemy, he peremptorily refused, and being upbraided by them
with cowardice and pusillanimity, he told them, "Just now, do what you
will, I shall not be brave; and do what I will, you will not be
cowards. Nevertheless, we know well enough what we are." And when
again, in a time of great danger, the people were very harsh upon him,
demanding a strict account how the public money had been employed, and
the like, he bade them, "First, good friends, make sure you are safe."
After a war, during which they had been very tractable and timorous,
when, upon peace being made, they began again to be confident and
overbearing, and to cry out upon Phocion, as having lost them the honor
of victory, to all their clamor he made only this answer, "My friends,
you are fortunate in having a leader who knows you; otherwise, you had
long since been undone."
Having a controversy with the Boeotians about boundaries, which he
counseled them to decide by negotiation, they inclined to blows. "You
had better," said he, "carry on the contest with the weapons in which
you excel, (your tongues,) and not by war, in which you are inferior."
Once, when he was addressing them, and they would not hear him or let
him go on, said he, "You may compel me to act against my wishes, but
you shall never force me to speak against my judgment." Among the many
public speakers who opposed him, Demosthenes, for example, once told
him, "The Athenians, Phocion, will kill you some day when they once are
in a rage." "And you," said he, "if they once are in their senses."
Polyeuctus, the Sphettian, once on a hot day was urging war with
Philip, and being a corpulent man, and out of breath and in a great
heat with speaking, took numerous draughts of water as he went on.
"Here, indeed," said Phocion, "is a fit man to lead us into a war! What
think you he will do when he is carrying his corslet and his shield to
meet the enemy, if even here, delivering a prepared speech to you has
almost killed him with exhaustion?" When Lycurgus in the assembly made
many reflections on his past conduct, upbraiding him above all for
having advised them to deliver up the ten citizens whom Alexander had
demanded, he replied that he had been the author of much safe and
wholesome counsel, which had not been followed.
There was a man called Archibiades, nicknamed the Lacedaemonian, who
used to go about with a huge overgrown beard, wearing an old threadbare
cloak, and affecting a very stern countenance. Phocion once, when
attacked in council by the rest, appealed to this man for his support
and testimony. And when he got up and began to speak on the popular
side, putting his hand to his beard, "O Archibiades," said he, "it is
time you should shave." Aristogiton, a common accuser, was a terrible
man of war within the assembly, always inflaming the people to battle,
but when the muster-roll came to be produced, he appeared limping on a
crutch, with a bandage on his leg; Phocion descried him afar off,
coming in, and cried out to the clerk, "Put down Aristogiton, too, as
lame and worthless."
So that it is a little wonderful, how a man so severe and harsh upon
all occasions should, notwithstanding, obtain the name of the Good.
Yet, though difficult, it is not, I suppose, impossible for men's
tempers, any more than for wines, to be at the same time harsh and
agreeable to the taste; just as on the other hand many that are sweet
at the first taste, are found, on further use, extremely disagreeable
and very unwholesome. Hyperides, we are told, once said to the people,
"Do not ask yourselves, men of Athens, whether or not I am bitter, but
whether or not I am paid for being so," as though a covetous purpose
were the only thing that should make a harsh temper insupportable, and
as if men might not even more justly render themselves obnoxious to
popular dislike and censure, by using their power and influence in the
indulgence of their own private passions of pride and jealousy, anger
and animosity. Phocion never allowed himself from any feeling of
personal hostility to do hurt to any fellow-citizen, nor, indeed,
reputed any man his enemy, except so far as he could not but contend
sharply with such as opposed the measures he urged for the public good;
in which argument he was, indeed, a rude, obstinate, and uncompromising
adversary. For his general conversation, it was easy, courteous, and
obliging to all, to that point that he would befriend his very
opponents in their distress, and espouse the cause of those who
differed most from him, when they needed his patronage. His friends
reproaching him for pleading in behalf of a man of indifferent
character, he told them the innocent had no need of an advocate.
Aristogiton, the sycophant, whom we mentioned before, having after
sentence passed upon him, sent earnestly to Phocion to speak with him
in the prison, his friends dissuaded him from going; "Nay, by your
favor," said he, "where should I rather choose to pay Aristogiton a
visit?"
As for the allies of the Athenians, and the islanders, whenever any
admiral besides Phocion was sent, they treated him as an enemy suspect,
barricaded their gates, blocked up their havens, brought in from the
country their cattle, slaves, wives, and children, and put them in
garrison; but upon Phocion's arrival, they went out to welcome him in
their private boats and barges, with streamers and garlands, and
received him at landing with every demonstration of joy and pleasure.
When king Philip was effecting his entry into Euboea, and was bringing
over troops from Macedonia, and making himself master of the cities, by
means of the tyrants who ruled in them, Plutarch of Eretria sent to
request aid of the Athenians for the relief of the island, which was in
imminent danger of falling wholly into the hands of the Macedonians.
Phocion was sent thither with a handful of men in comparison, in
expectation that the Euboeans themselves would flock in and join him.
But when he came, he found all things in confusion, the country all
betrayed, the whole ground, as it were, undermined under his feet, by
the secret pensioners of king Philip, so that he was in the greatest
risk imaginable. To secure himself as far as he could, he seized a
small rising ground, which was divided from the level plains about
Tamynae by a deep watercourse, and here he enclosed and fortified the
choicest of his army. As for the idle talkers and disorderly bad
citizens who ran off from his camp and made their way back, he bade his
officers not regard them, since here they would have been not only
useless and ungovernable themselves, but an actual hindrance to the
rest; and further, being conscious to themselves of the neglect of
their duty, they would be less ready to misrepresent the action, or
raise a cry against them at their return home. When the enemy drew
nigh, he bade his men stand to their arms, until he had finished the
sacrifice, in which he spent a considerable time, either by some
difficulty of the thing itself, or on purpose to invite the enemy
nearer. Plutarch, interpreting this tardiness as a failure in his
courage, fell on alone with the mercenaries, which the cavalry
perceiving, could not be contained, but issuing also out of the camp,
confusedly and in disorder, spurred up to the enemy. The first who came
up were defeated, the rest were put to the rout, Plutarch himself took
to flight, and a body of the enemy advanced in the hope of carrying the
camp, supposing themselves to have secured the victory. But by this
time, the sacrifice being over, the Athenians within the camp came
forward, and falling upon them put them to flight, and killed the
greater number as they fled among the entrenchments, while Phocion
ordering his infantry to keep on the watch and rally those who came in
from the previous flight, himself, with a body of his best men, engaged
the enemy in a sharp and bloody fight, in which all of them behaved
with signal courage and gallantry. Thallus, the son of Cineas, and
Glaucus, of Polymedes, who fought near the general, gained the honors
of the day. Cleophanes, also, did good service in the battle.
Recovering the cavalry from its defeat, and with his shouts and
encouragement bringing them up to succor the general, who was in
danger, he confirmed the victory obtained by the infantry. Phocion now
expelled Plutarch from Eretria, and possessed himself of the very
important fort of Zaretra, situated where the island is pinched in, as
it were, by the seas on each side, and its breadth most reduced to a
narrow girth. He released all the Greeks whom he took out of fear of
the public speakers at Athens, thinking they might very likely persuade
the people in their anger into committing some act of cruelty.
This affair thus dispatched and settled, Phocion set sail homewards,
and the allies had soon as good reason to regret the loss of his just
and humane dealing, as the Athenians that of his experience and
courage. Molossus, the commander who took his place, had no better
success than to fall alive into the enemy's hands. Philip, full of
great thoughts and designs, now advanced with all his forces into the
Hellespont, to seize the Chersonesus and Perinthus, and after them,
Byzantium. The Athenians raised a force to relieve them, but the
popular leaders made it their business to prefer Chares to be general,
who, sailing thither, effected nothing worthy of the means placed in
his hands. The cities were afraid, and would not receive his ships into
their harbors, so that he did nothing but wander about, raising money
from their friends, and despised by their enemies. And when the people,
chafed by the orators, were extremely indignant, and repented having
ever sent any help to the Byzantines, Phocion rose and told them they
ought not to be angry with the allies for distrusting, but with their
generals for being distrusted. "They make you suspected," he said,
"even by those who cannot possibly subsist without your succor." The
assembly being moved with this speech of his, changed their minds on
the sudden, and commanded him immediately to raise another force, and
go himself to assist their confederates in the Hellespont; an
appointment which, in effect, contributed more than anything to the
relief of Byzantium.
For Phocion's name was already honorably known; and an old acquaintance
of his, who had been his fellow-student in the Academy, Leon, a man of
high renown for virtue among the Byzantines, having vouched for Phocion
to the city, they opened their gates to receive him, not permitting
him, though he desired it, to encamp without the walls, but entertained
him and all the Athenians with perfect reliance, while they, to requite
their confidence, behaved among their new hosts soberly and
inoffensively, and exerted themselves on all occasions with the
greatest zeal and resolution for their defense. Thus king Philip was
driven out of the Hellespont, and was despised to boot, whom till now,
it had been thought impossible to match, or even to oppose. Phocion
also took some of his ships, and recaptured some of the places he had
garrisoned, making besides several inroads into the country, which he
plundered and overran, until he received a wound from some of the enemy
who came to the defense, and, thereupon, sailed away home.
The Megarians at this time privately praying aid of the Athenians,
Phocion, fearing lest the Boeotians should hear of it, and anticipate
them, called an assembly at sunrise, and brought forward the petition
of the Megarians, and immediately after the vote had been put, and
carried in their favor, he sounded the trumpet, and led the Athenians
straight from the assembly, to arm and put themselves in posture. The
Megarians received them joyfully, and he proceeded to fortify Nisea,
and built two new long walls from the city to the arsenal, and so
joined it to the sea, so that having now little reason to regard the
enemies on the land side, it placed its dependence entirely on the
Athenians.
When final hostilities with Philip were now certain, and in Phocion's
absence other generals had been nominated, he on his arrival from the
islands, dealt earnestly with the Athenians, that since Philip showed
peaceable inclinations towards them, and greatly apprehended the
danger, they would consent to a treaty. Being contradicted in this by
one of the ordinary frequenters of the courts of justice, a common
accuser, who asked him if he durst presume to persuade the Athenians to
peace, now their arms were in their hands, "Yes," said he, "though I
know that if there be war, I shall be in office over you, and if peace,
you over me." But when he could not prevail, and Demosthenes's opinion
carried it, advising them to make war as far off from home as possible,
and fight the battle out of Attica, "Good friend," said Phocion, "let
us not ask where we shall fight, but how we may conquer in the war.
That will be the way to keep it at a distance. If we are beaten, it
will be quickly at our doors." After the defeat, when the clamorers and
incendiaries in the town would have brought up Charidemus to the
hustings, to be nominated to the command, the best of the citizens were
in a panic, and supporting themselves with the aid of the council of
the Areopagus, with entreaties and tears hardly prevailed upon the
people to have Phocion entrusted with the care of the city. He was of
opinion, in general, that the fair terms to be expected from Philip
should be accepted, yet after Demades had made a motion that the city
should receive the common conditions of peace in concurrence with the
rest of the states of Greece, he opposed it, till it were known what
the particulars were which Philip demanded. He was overborne in this
advice, under the pressure of the time, but almost immediately after,
the Athenians repented it, when they understood that by these articles,
they were obliged to furnish Philip both with horse and shipping. "It
was the fear of this," said Phocion, "that occasioned my opposition.
But since the thing is done, let us make the best of it, and not be
discouraged. Our forefathers were sometimes in command, and sometimes
under it; and by doing their duty, whether as rulers or as subjects,
saved their own country and the rest of Greece."
Upon the news of Philip's death, he opposed himself to any public
demonstrations of joy and jubilee, saying it would be ignoble to show
malice upon such an occasion, and that the army that had fought them at
Chaeronea, was only diminished by a single man.
When Demosthenes made his invectives against Alexander, now on his way
to attack Thebes, he repeated those verses of Homer, --
"Unwise one, wherefore to a second stroke
His anger be foolhardy to provoke?"
and asked, "Why stimulate his already eager passion for glory? Why take
pains to expose the city to the terrible conflagration now so near? We,
who accepted office to save our fellow-citizens, will not, however they
desire it, be consenting to their destruction."
After Thebes was lost, and Alexander had demanded Demosthenes,
Lycurgus, Hyperides, and Charidemus to be delivered up, the whole
assembly turning their eyes to him, and calling on him by name to
deliver his opinion, at last he rose up, and showing them one of his
most intimate friends, whom he loved and confided in above all others,
told them, "You have brought things amongst you to that pass, that for
my part, should he demand this my friend Nicocles, I would not refuse
to give him up. For as for myself, to have it in my power to sacrifice
my own life and fortune for the common safety, I should think the
greatest of good fortune. Truly," he added, "it pierces my heart to see
those who are fled hither for succor from the desolation of Thebes. Yet
it is enough for Greece to have Thebes to deplore. It will be more for
the interest of all that we should deprecate the conqueror's anger, and
intercede for both, than run the hazard of another battle."
When this was decreed by the people, Alexander is said to have rejected
their first address when it was presented, throwing it from him
scornfully, and turning his back upon the deputation, who left him in
affright. But the second, which was presented by Phocion, he received,
understanding from the older Macedonians how much Philip had admired
and esteemed him. And he not only gave him audience and listened to his
memorial and petition, but also permitted him to advise him, which he
did to this effect, that if his designs were for quietness, he should
make peace at once; if glory were his aim, he should make war, not upon
Greece, but on the barbarians. And with various counsels and
suggestions, happily designed to meet the genius and feelings of
Alexander, he so won upon him, and softened his temper, that he bade
the Athenians not forget their position, as if anything went wrong with
him, the supremacy belonged to them. And to Phocion himself, whom he
adopted as his friend and guest, he showed a respect, and admitted him
to distinctions, which few of those who were continually near his
person ever received. Duris, at any rate, tells us, that when he became
great, and had conquered Darius, in the heading of all his letters he
left off the word Greeting, except in those he wrote to Phocion. To
him, and to Antipater alone, he condescended to use it. This, also, is
stated by Chares.
As for his munificence to him, it is well known he sent him a present
at one time of one hundred talents; and this being brought to Athens,
Phocion asked of the bearers, how it came to pass, that among all the
Athenians, he alone should be the object of this bounty. And being told
that Alexander esteemed him alone a person of honor and worth, "Let
him, then," said he, "permit me to continue so, and be still so
reputed." Following him to his house, and observing his simple and
plain way of living, his wife employed in kneading bread with her own
hands, himself drawing water to wash his feet, they pressed him to
accept it, with some indignation, being ashamed, as they said, that
Alexander's friend should live so poorly and pitifully. So Phocion
pointing out to them a poor old fellow, in a dirty worn-out coat,
passing by, asked them if they thought him in worse condition than this
man. They bade him not mention such a comparison. "Yet," said Phocion,
"he with less to live upon than I, finds it sufficient, and in brief,"
he continued, "if I do not use this money, what good is there in my
having it; and if I do use it, I shall procure an ill name, both for
myself and for Alexander, among my countrymen." So the treasure went
back again from Athens, to prove to Greece, by a signal example, that
he who could afford to give so magnificent a present, was yet not so
rich as he who could afford to refuse it. And when Alexander was
displeased, and wrote back to him to say that he could not esteem those
his friends, who would not be obliged by him, not even would this
induce Phocion to accept the money, but he begged leave to intercede
with him in behalf of Echecratides, the sophist, and Athenodorus, the
Imbrian, as also for Demaratus and Sparton, two Rhodians, who had been
arrested upon some charges, and were in custody at Sardis. This was
instantly granted by Alexander, and they were set at liberty.
Afterwards, when sending Craterus into Macedonia, he commanded him to
make him an offer of four cities in Asia, Cius, Gergithus, Mylasa, and
Elaea, any one of which, at his choice, should be delivered to him;
insisting yet more positively with him, and declaring he should resent
it, should he continue obstinate in his refusal. But Phocion was not to
be prevailed with at all, and, shortly after, Alexander died.
Phocion's house is shown to this day in Melita, ornamented with small
plates of copper, but otherwise plain and homely. Concerning his wives,
of the first of them there is little said, except that she was sister
of Cephisodotus, the statuary. The other was a matron of no less
reputation for her virtues and simple living among the Athenians, than
Phocion was for his probity. It happened once when the people were
entertained with a new tragedy, that the actor, just as he was to enter
the stage to perform the part of a queen, demanded to have a number of
attendants sumptuously dressed, to follow in his train, and on their
not being provided, was sullen and refused to act, keeping the audience
waiting, till at last Melanthius, who had to furnish the chorus, pushed
him on the stage, crying out, "What, don't you know that Phocion's wife
is never attended by more than a single waiting woman, but you must
needs be grand, and fill our women's heads with vanity?" This speech of
his, spoken loud enough to be heard, was received with great applause,
and clapped all round the theater. She herself, when once entertaining
a visitor out of Ionia, who showed her all her rich ornaments, made of
gold and set with jewels, her wreaths, necklaces, and the like, "For my
part," said she, "all my ornament is my husband Phocion, now for the
twentieth year in office as general at Athens."
He had a son named Phocus, who wished to take part in the games at the
great feast of Minerva. He permitted him so to do, in the contest of
leaping, not with any view to the victory, but in the hope that the
training and discipline for it would make him a better man, the youth
being in a general way a lover of drinking, and ill-regulated in his
habits. On his having succeeded in the sports, many were eager for the
honor of his company at banquets in celebration of the victory. Phocion
declined all these invitations but one, and when he came to this
entertainment and saw the costly preparations, even the water brought
to wash the guests' feet being mingled with wine and spices, he
reprimanded his son, asking him why he would so far permit his friend
to sully the honor of his victory. And in the hope of wholly weaning
the young man from such habits and company, he sent him to Lacedaemon,
and placed him among the youths then under the course of the Spartan
discipline. This the Athenians took offense at, as though he slighted
and contemned the education at home; and Demades twitted him with it
publicly, "Suppose, Phocion, you and I advise the Athenians to adopt
the Spartan constitution. If you like, I am ready to introduce a bill
to that effect, and to speak in its favor." "Indeed," said Phocion,
"you with that strong scent of perfumes about you, and with that mantle
on your shoulders, are just the very man to speak in honor of Lycurgus,
and recommend the Spartan table."
When Alexander wrote to demand a supply of galleys, and the public
speakers objected to sending them, Phocion, on the council requesting
his opinion, told them freely, "Sirs, I would either have you
victorious yourselves, or friends of those who are so." He took up
Pytheas, who about this time first began to address the assembly, and
already showed himself a confident, talking fellow, by saying that a
young slave whom the people had but bought yesterday, ought to have the
manners to hold his tongue. And when Harpalus, who had fled from
Alexander out of Asia, carrying off a large sum of money, came to
Attica, and there was a perfect race among the ordinary public men of
the assembly who should be the first to take his pay, he distributed
amongst these some trifling sums by way of a bait and provocative, but
to Phocion he made an offer of no less than seven hundred talents and
all manner of other advantages he pleased to demand; with the
compliment that he would entirely commit himself and all his affairs to
his disposal. Phocion answered sharply, Harpalus should repent of it,
if he did not quickly leave off corrupting and debauching the city,
which for the time silenced him, and checked his proceedings. But
afterwards, when the Athenians were deliberating in council about him,
he found those that had received money from him to be his greatest
enemies, urging and aggravating matters against him, to prevent
themselves being discovered, whereas Phocion, who had never touched his
pay, now, so far as the public interest would admit of it, showed some
regard to his particular security. This encouraged him once more to try
his inclinations, and upon further survey, finding that he himself was
a fortress, inaccessible on every quarter to the approaches of
corruption, he professed a particular friendship to Phocion's
son-in-law, Charicles. And admitting him into his confidence in all his
affairs, and continually requesting his assistance, he brought him into
some suspicion. Upon the occasion, for example, of the death of
Pythonice, who was Harpalus's mistress, for whom he had a great
fondness, and had a child by her, he resolved to build her a sumptuous
monument, and committed the care of it to his friend Charicles. This
commission, disreputable enough in itself, was yet further disparaged
by the figure the piece of workmanship made after it was finished. It
is yet to be seen in the Hermeum. as you go from Athens to Eleusis,
with nothing in its appearance answerable to the sum of thirty talents,
with which Charicles is said to have charged Harpalus for its erection.
After Harpalus's own decease, his daughter was educated by Phocion and
Charicles with great care. But when Charicles was called to account for
his dealings with Harpalus, and entreated his father-in-law's
protection, begging that he would appear for him in the court, Phocion
refused, telling him, "I did not choose you for my son-in-law for any
but honorable purposes."
Asclepiades, the son of Hipparchus, brought the first tidings of
Alexander's death to Athens, which Demades told them was not to be
credited; for, were it true, the whole world would ere this have stunk
with the dead body. But Phocion seeing the people eager for an instant
revolution, did his best to quiet and repress them. And when numbers of
them rushed up to the hustings to speak, and cried out that the news
was true, and Alexander was dead, "If he is dead today," said he, "he
will be so tomorrow and the day after tomorrow equally. So that there
is no need to take counsel hastily or before it is safe."
When Leosthenes now had embarked the city in the Lamian war, greatly
against Phocion's wishes, to raise a laugh against Phocion, he asked
him scoffingly, what the State had been benefited by his having now so
many years been general. "It is not a little," said Phocion, "that the
citizens have been buried in their own sepulchers." And when Leosthenes
continued to speak boldly and boastfully in the assembly, "Young man,"
he said, "your speeches are like cypress trees, stately and tall, and
no fruit to come of them." And when he was then attacked by Hyperides,
who asked him when the time would come, that he would advise the
Athenians to make war, "As soon," said he, "as I find the young men
keep their ranks, the rich men contribute their money, and the Orators
leave off robbing the treasury." Afterwards, when many admired the
forces raised, and the preparations for war that were made by
Leosthenes, they asked Phocion how he approved of the new levies. "Very
well," said he, "for the short course; but what I fear, is the long
race. Since however late the war may last, the city has neither money,
ships, nor soldiers, but these." And the event justified his
prognostics. At first all things appeared fair and promising.
Leosthenes gained great reputation by worsting the Boeotians in battle,
and driving Antipater within the walls of Lamia, and the citizens were
so transported with the first successes, that they kept solemn
festivities for them, and offered public sacrifices to the gods. So
that some, thinking Phocion must now be convinced of his error, asked
him whether he would not willingly have been author of these successful
actions. "Yes," said he, "most gladly, but also of the former counsel."
And when one express after another came from the camp, confirming and
magnifying the victories, "When," said he, "will the end of them come?"
Leosthenes, soon after, was killed, and now those who feared lest if
Phocion obtained the command, he would put an end to the war, arranged
with an obscure person in the assembly, who should stand up and profess
himself to be a friend and old confidant of Phocion's, and persuade the
people to spare him at this time, and reserve him (with whom none could
compare) for a more pressing occasion, and now to give Antiphilus the
command of the army. This pleased the generality, but Phocion made it
appear he was so far from having any friendship with him of old
standing, that he had not so much as the least familiarity with him;
"Yet now, sir," says he, "give me leave to put you down among the
number of my friends and well-wishers, as you have given a piece of
advice so much to my advantage."
And when the people were eager to make an expedition against the
Boeotians, he at first opposed it; and on his friends telling him the
people would kill him, for always running counter to them, "That will
be unjust of them," he said, "if I give them honest advice, if not, it
will be just of them.'' But when he found them persisting and shouting
to him to lead them out, he commanded the crier to make proclamation,
that all the Athenians under sixty should instantly provide themselves
with five days' provision, and follow him from the assembly. This
caused a great tumult. Those in years were startled, and clamored
against the order; he demanded wherein he injured them, "For I," says
he, "am now fourscore, and am ready to lead you." This succeeded in
pacifying them for the present.
But when Micion, with a large force of Macedonians and mercenaries,
began to pillage the sea-coast, having made a descent upon Rhamnus, and
overrun the neighboring country, Phocion led out the Athenians to
attack him. And when sundry private persons came, intermeddling with
his dispositions, and telling him that he ought to occupy such or such
a hill, detach the cavalry in this or that direction, engage the enemy
on this point or that, "O Hercules," said he, "how many generals have
we here, and how few soldiers!" Afterwards, having formed the battle,
one who wished to show his bravery, advanced out of his post before the
rest, but on the enemy's approaching, lost heart, and retired back into
his rank. "Young man," said Phocion, "are you not ashamed twice in one
day to desert your station, first that on which I had placed you, and
secondly, that on which you had placed yourself?" However, he entirely
routed the enemy, killing Micion and many more on the spot. The Grecian
army, also, in Thessaly, after Leonnatus and the Macedonians who came
with him out of Asia, had arrived and joined Antipater, fought and beat
them in a battle. Leonnatus was killed in the fight, Antiphilus
commanding the foot, and Menon, the Thessalian, the horse.
But not long after, Craterus crossed from Asia with numerous forces; a
pitched battle was fought at Cranon; the Greeks were beaten; though
not, indeed, in a signal defeat, nor with any great loss of men. But
what with their want of obedience to their commanders, who were young
and over-indulgent with them, and what with Antipater's tampering and
treating with their separate cities, one by one, the end of it was that
the army was dissolved, and the Greeks shamefully surrendered the
liberty of their country.
Upon the news of Antipater's now advancing at once against Athens with
all his force, Demosthenes and Hyperides deserted the city, and
Demades, who was altogether insolvent for any part of the fines that
had been laid upon him by the city, for he had been condemned no less
than seven times for introducing bills contrary to the laws, and who
had been disfranchised, and was no longer competent to vote in the
assembly, laid hold of this season of impunity, to bring in a bill for
sending ambassadors with plenipotentiary power to Antipater, to treat
about a peace. But the people distrusted him, and called upon Phocion
to give his opinion, as the person they only and entirely confided in.
He told them, "If my former counsels had been prevalent with you, we
had not been reduced to deliberate on the question at all." However,
the vote passed; and a decree was made, and he with others deputed to
go to Antipater, who lay now encamped in the Theban territories, but
intended to dislodge immediately, and pass into Attica. Phocion's first
request was, that he would make the treaty without moving his camp. And
when Craterus declared that it was not fair to ask them to be
burdensome to the country of their friends and allies by their stay,
when they might rather use that of their enemies for provisions and the
support of their army, Antipater taking him by the hand, said, "We must
grant this favor to Phocion." For the rest, he bade them return to
their principals, and acquaint them that he could only offer them the
same terms, namely, to surrender at discretion, which Leosthenes had
offered to him when he was shut up in Lamia.
When Phocion had returned to the city, and acquainted them with this
answer, they made a virtue of necessity, and complied, since it would
be no better. So Phocion returned to Thebes with the other ambassadors,
and among the rest, Xenocrates, the philosopher, the reputation of
whose virtue and wisdom was so great and famous everywhere, that they
conceived there could not be any pride, cruelty, or anger arising in
the heart of man, which would not at the mere sight of him be subdued
into something of reverence and admiration. But the result, as it
happened, was the very opposite, Antipater showed such a want of
feeling, and such a dislike of goodness. He saluted everyone else, but
would not so much as notice Xenocrates. Xenocrates, they tell us,
observed upon it, that Antipater when meditating such cruelty to
Athens, did well to be ashamed of seeing him. When he began to speak,
he would not hear him, but broke in and rudely interrupted him, until
at last he was obliged to he silent. But when Phocion had declared the
purport of their embassy, he replied shortly, that he would make peace
with the Athenians on these conditions, and no others; that Demosthenes
and Hyperides should be delivered up to him; that they should retain
their ancient form of government, the franchise being determined by a
property qualification; that they should receive a garrison into
Munychia, and pay a certain sum for the cost of the war. As things
stood, these terms were judged tolerable by the rest of the
ambassadors; Xenocrates only said, that if Antipater considered the
Athenians slaves, he was treating them fairly, but if free, severely.
Phocion pressed him only to spare them the garrison, and used many
arguments and entreaties. Antipater replied, "Phocion, we are ready to
do you any favor, which will not bring ruin both on ourselves and on
you." Others report it differently; that Antipater asked Phocion,
supposing he remitted the garrison to the Athenians, would he, Phocion,
stand surety for the city's observing the terms and attempting no
revolution? And when he hesitated, and did not at once reply,
Callimedon, the Carabus, a hot partisan and professed enemy of free
states, cried out, "And if he should talk so idly, Antipater, will you
be so much abused as to believe him and not carry out your own
purpose?" So the Athenians received the garrison, and Menyllus for the
governor, a fair-dealing man, and one of Phocion's acquaintance.
But the proceeding seemed sufficiently imperious and arbitrary, indeed
rather a spiteful and insulting ostentation of power, than that the
possession of the fortress would be of any great importance. The
resentment felt upon it was heightened by the time it happened in, for
the garrison was brought in on the twentieth of the month of
Boedromion, just at the time of the great festival, when they carry
forth Iacchus with solemn pomp from the city to Eleusis; so that the
solemnity being disturbed, many began to call to mind instances, both
ancient and modern, of divine interventions and intimations. For in old
time, upon the occasions of their happiest successes, the presence of
the shapes and voices of the mystic ceremonies had been vouchsafed to
them, striking terror and amazement into their enemies; but now, at the
very season of their celebration, the gods themselves stood witnesses
of the saddest oppressions of Greece, the most holy time being
profaned, and their greatest jubilee made the unlucky date of their
most extreme calamity. Not many years before, they had a warning from
the oracle at Dodona, that they should carefully guard the summits of
Diana, lest haply strangers should seize them. And about this very
time, when they dyed the ribbons and garlands with which they adorn the
couches and cars of the procession, instead of a purple they received
only a faint yellow color; and to make the omen yet greater, all the
things that were dyed for common use, took the natural color. While a
candidate for initiation was washing a young pig in the haven of
Cantharus, a shark seized him, bit off all his lower parts up to the
belly, and devoured them, by which the god gave them manifestly to
understand, that having lost the lower town and the sea-coast, they
should keep only the upper city.
Menyllus was sufficient security that the garrison should behave itself
inoffensively. But those who were now excluded from the franchise by
poverty, amounted to more than twelve thousand; so that both those that
remained in the city thought themselves oppressed and shamefully used,
and those who on this account left their homes and went away into
Thrace, where Antipater offered them a town and some territory to
inhabit, regarded themselves only as a colony of slaves and exiles. And
when to this was added the deaths of Demosthenes at Calauria, and of
Hyperides at Cleonae, as we have elsewhere related, the citizens began
to think with regret of Philip and Alexander, and almost to wish the
return of those times. And as, after Antigonus was slain, when those
that had taken him off were afflicting and oppressing the people, a
countryman in Phrygia, digging in the fields, was asked what he was
doing, "I am," said he, fetching a deep sigh, "searching for
Antigonus;" so said many that remembered those days, and the contests
they had with those kings, whose anger, however great, was yet generous
and placable; whereas Antipater, with the counterfeit humility of
appearing like a private man, in the meanness of his dress and his
homely fare, merely belied his real love of that arbitrary power, which
he exercised, as a cruel master and despot, to distress those under his
command. Yet Phocion had interest with him to recall many from
banishment by his intercession, and prevailed also for those who were
driven out, that they might not, like others, be hurried beyond
Taenarus, and the mountains of Ceraunia, but remain in Greece, and
plant themselves in Peloponnesus, of which number was Agnonides, the
sycophant. He was no less studious to manage the affairs within the
city with equity and moderation, preferring constantly those that were
men of worth and good education to the magistracies, and recommending
the busy and turbulent talkers, to whom it was a mortal blow to be
excluded from office and public debating, to learn to stay at home, and
be content to till their land. And observing that Xenocrates paid his
alien-tax as a foreigner, he offered him the freedom of the city, which
he refused, saying he could not accept a franchise which he had been
sent, as an ambassador, to deprecate.
Menyllus wished to give Phocion a considerable present of money, who,
thanking him, said, neither was Menyllus greater than Alexander, nor
his own occasions more urgent to receive it now, than when he refused
it from him.. And on his pressing him to permit his son Phocus to
receive it, he replied, "If my son returns to a right mind, his
patrimony is sufficient; if not, all supplies will be insufficient."
But to Antipater he answered more sharply, who would have him engaged
in something dishonorable. "Antipater," said he, "cannot have me both
as his friend and his flatterer." And, indeed, Antipater was wont to
say, he had two friends at Athens, Phocion and Demades; the one would
never suffer him to gratify him at all, the other would never be
satisfied. Phocion might well think that poverty a virtue, in which,
after having so often been general of the Athenians, and admitted to
the friendship of potentates and princes, he had now grown old.
Demades, meantime, delighted in lavishing his wealth even in positive
transgressions of the law. For there having been an order that no
foreigner should be hired to dance in any chorus on the penalty of a
fine of one thousand drachmas on the exhibitor, he had the vanity to
exhibit an entire chorus of a hundred foreigners, and paid down the
penalty of a thousand drachmas a head upon the stage itself. Marrying
his son Demeas, he told him with the like vanity, "My son, when I
married your mother, it was done so privately it was not known to the
next neighbors, but kings and princes give presents at your nuptials."
The garrison in Munychia continued to be felt as a great grievance, and
the Athenians did not cease to be importunate upon Phocion, to prevail
with Antipater for its removal; but whether he despaired of effecting
it, or perhaps observed the people to be more orderly, and public
matters more reasonably conducted by the awe that was thus created, he
constantly declined the office, and contented himself with obtaining
from Antipater the postponement for the present of the payment of the
sum of money in which the city was fined. So the people, leaving him
off, applied themselves to Demades, who readily undertook the
employment, and took along with him his son also into Macedonia; and
some superior power, as it seems, so ordering it, he came just at that
nick of time, when Antipater was already seized with his sickness, and
Cassander, taking upon himself the command, had found a letter of
Demades's, formerly written by him to Antigonus in Asia, recommending
him to come and possess himself of the empire of Greece and Macedon,
now hanging, he said, (a scoff at Antipater,) "by an old and rotten
thread." So when Cassander saw him come, he seized him; and first
brought out the son and killed him so close before his face, that the
blood ran all over his clothes and person, and then, after bitterly
taunting and upbraiding him with his ingratitude and treachery,
dispatched him himself.
Antipater being dead, after nominating Polysperchon general-in-chief,
and Cassander commander of the cavalry, Cassander at once set up for
himself and immediately dispatched Nicanor to Menyllus, to succeed him
in the command of the garrison, commanding him to possess himself of
Munychia before the news of Antipater's death should be heard; which
being done, and some days after the Athenians hearing the report of it,
Phocion was taxed as privy to it before, and censured heavily for
dissembling it, out of friendship for Nicanor. But he slighted their
talk, and making it his duty to visit and confer continually with
Nicanor, he succeeded in procuring his good-will and kindness for the
Athenians, and induced him even to put himself to trouble and expense
to seek popularity with them, by undertaking the office of presiding at
the games.
In the meantime Polysperchon, who was entrusted with the charge of the
king, to countermine Cassander, sent a letter to the city, declaring in
the name of the king, that he restored them their democracy, and that
the whole Athenian people were at liberty to conduct their commonwealth
according to their ancient customs and constitutions. The object of
these pretenses was merely the overthrow of Phocion's influence, as the
event manifested. For Polysperchon's design being to possess himself of
the city, he despaired altogether of bringing it to pass, whilst
Phocion retained his credit; and the most certain way to ruin him,
would be again to fill the city with a crowd of disfranchised citizens,
and let loose the tongues of the demagogues and common accusers.
With this prospect, the Athenians were all in excitement, and Nicanor,
wishing to confer with them on the subject, at a meeting of the Council
in Piraeus, came himself, trusting for the safety of his person to
Phocion. And when Dercyllus, who commanded the guard there, made an
attempt to seize him, upon notice of it beforehand, he made his escape,
and there was little doubt he would now lose no time in righting
himself upon the city for the affront; and when Phocion was found fault
with for letting him get off and not securing him, he defended himself
by saying that he had no mistrust of Nicanor, nor the least reason to
expect any mischief from him, but should it prove otherwise, for his
part he would have them all know, he would rather receive than do the
wrong. And so far as he spoke for himself alone, the answer was
honorable and high-minded enough, but he who hazards his country's
safety, and that, too, when he is her magistrate and chief commander,
can scarcely he acquitted, I fear, of transgressing a higher and more
sacred obligation of justice, which he owed to his fellow citizens. For
it will not even do to say, that he dreaded the involving the city in
war, by seizing Nicanor, and hoped by professions of confidence and
just-dealing, to retain him in the observance of the like; but it was,
indeed, his credulity and confidence in him, and an overweening opinion
of his sincerity, that imposed upon him. So that notwithstanding the
sundry intimations he had of his making preparations to attack Piraeus,
sending soldiers over into Salamis, and tampering with, and endeavoring
to corrupt various residents in Piraeus, he would, notwithstanding all
this evidence, never be persuaded to believe it. And even when
Philomedes of Lampra had got a decree passed, that all the Athenians
should stand to their arms, and be ready to follow Phocion their
general, he yet sat still and did nothing, until Nicanor actually led
his troops out from Munychia, and drew trenches about Piraeus; upon
which, when Phocion at last would have led out the Athenians, they
cried out against him, and slighted his orders.
Alexander, the son of Polysperchon, was at hand with a considerable
force, and professed to come to give them succor against Nicanor, but
intended nothing less, if possible, than to surprise the city, whilst
they were in tumult and divided among themselves. For all that had
previously been expelled from the city, now coming back with him, made
their way into it, and were joined by a mixed multitude of foreigners
and disfranchised persons, and of these a motley and irregular public
assembly came together, in which they presently divested Phocion of all
power, and chose other generals; and if, by chance Alexander had not
been spied from the walls, alone in close conference with Nicanor, and
had not this, which was often repeated, given the Athenians cause of
suspicion, the city had not escaped the snare. The orator Agnonides,
however, at once fell foul upon Phocion, and impeached him of treason;
Callimedon and Charicles, fearing the worst, consulted their own
security by flying from the city; Phocion, with a few of his friends
that stayed with him, went over to Polysperchon, and out of respect for
him, Solon of Plataea, and Dinarchus of Corinth, who were reputed
friends and confidants of Polysperchon, accompanied him. But on account
of Dinarchus falling ill, they remained several days in Elatea, during
which time, upon the persuasion of Agnonides and on the motion of
Archestratus a decree passed that the people should send delegates
thither to accuse Phocion. So both parties reached Polysperchon at the
same time, who was going through the country with the king, and was
then at a small village of Phocis, Pharygae, under the mountain now
called Galate, but then Acrurium.
There Polysperchon, having set up the golden canopy, and seated the
king and his company under it, ordered Dinarchus at once to be taken,
and tortured, and put to death; and that done, gave audience to the
Athenians, who filled the place with noise and tumult, accusing and
recriminating on one another, till at last Agnonides came forward, and
requested they might all be shut up together in one cage, and conveyed
to Athens, there to decide the controversy. At that the king could not
forbear smiling, but the company that attended, for their own
amusement, Macedonians and strangers, were eager to hear the
altercation, and made signs to the delegates to go on with their case
at once. But it was no sort of fair hearing. Polysperchon frequently
interrupted Phocion, till at last Phocion struck his staff on the
ground, and declined to speak further. And when Hegemon said,
Polysperchon himself could bear witness to his affection for the
people, Polysperchon called out fiercely, "Give over slandering me to
the king," and the king starting up was about to have run him through
with his javelin, but Polysperchon interposed and hindered him; so that
the assembly dissolved.
Phocion, then, and those about him, were seized; those of his friends
that were not immediately by him, on seeing this, hid their faces, and
saved themselves by flight. The rest Clitus took and brought to Athens,
to be submitted to trial; but, in truth, as men already sentenced to
die. The manner of conveying them was indeed extremely moving; they
were carried in chariots through the Ceramicus, straight to the place
of judicature, where Clitus secured them till they had convoked an
assembly of the people, which was open to all comers, neither
foreigners, nor slaves, nor those who had been punished with
disfranchisement, being refused admittance, but all alike, both men and
women, being allowed to come into the court, and even upon the place of
speaking. So having read the king's letters, in which he declared he
was satisfied himself that these men were traitors, however, they being
a free city, he willingly accorded them the grace of trying and judging
them according to their own laws, Clitus brought in his prisoners.
Every respectable citizen, at the sight of Phocion, covered up his
face, and stooped down to conceal his tears. And one of them had the
courage to say, that since the king had committed so important a cause
to the judgment of the people, it would be well that the strangers, and
those of servile condition, should withdraw. But the populace would not
endure it, crying out they were oligarchs, and enemies to the liberty
of the people, and deserved to be stoned; after which no man durst
offer anything further in Phocion's behalf. He was himself with
difficulty heard at all, when he put the question, "Do you wish to put
us to death lawfully, or unlawfully?" Some answered, "According to
law." He replied, "How can you, except we have a fair hearing?" But
when they were deaf to all he said, approaching nearer, "As to myself,"
said he, "I admit my guilt, and pronounce my public conduct to have
deserved sentence of death. But why, O men of Athens, kill others who
have offended in nothing?" The rabble cried out, they were his friends,
that was enough. Phocion therefore drew back, and said no more.
Then Agnonides read the bill, in accordance with which the people
should decide by show of hands whether they judged them guilty, and if
so it should be found, the penalty should be death. When this had been
read out, some desired it might be added to the sentence, that Phocion
should be tortured also, and that the rack should be produced with the
executioners. But Agnonides perceiving even Clitus to dislike this, and
himself thinking it horrid and barbarous, said, "When we catch that
slave, Callimedon, men of Athens, we will put him to the rack, but I
shall make no motion of the kind in Phocion's case." Upon which one of
the better citizens remarked, he was quite right; "If we should torture
Phocion, what could we do to you?" So the form of the bill was approved
of, and the show of hands called for; upon which, not one man retaining
his seat, but all rising up, and some with garlands on their heads,
they condemned them all to death.
There were present with Phocion, Nicocles, Thudippus, Hegemon, and
Pythocles. Demetrius the Phalerian, Callimedon, Charicles, and some
others, were included in the condemnation, being absent.
After the assembly was dismissed, they were carried to the prison; the
rest with cries and lamentations, their friends and relatives
following; and clinging about them, but Phocion looking (as men
observed with astonishment at his calmness and magnanimity) just the
same as when he had been used to return to his home attended, as
general, from the assembly. His enemies ran along by his side, reviling
and abusing him. And one of them coming up to him, spat in his face; at
which Phocion, turning to the officers, only said, "You should stop
this indecency." Thudippus, on their reaching the prison, when he
observed the executioner tempering the poison and preparing it for
them, gave way to his passion, and began to bemoan his condition and
the hard measure he received, thus unjustly to suffer with Phocion.
"You cannot be contented," said he, "to die with Phocion?" One of his
friends that stood by, asked him if he wished to have anything said to
his son. "Yes, by all means," said he, "bid him bear no grudge against
the Athenians." Then Nicocles, the dearest and most faithful of his
friends, begged to be allowed to drink the poison first. "My friend,"
said he, "you ask what I am loath and sorrowful to give, but as I never
yet in all my life was so thankless as to refuse you, I must gratify
you in this also." After they had all drunk of it, the poison ran
short; and the executioner refused to prepare more, except they would
pay him twelve drachmas, to defray the cost of the quantity required.
Some delay was made, and time spent, when Phocion called one of his
friends, and observing that a man could not even die at Athens without
paying for it, requested him to give the sum.
It was the nineteenth day of the month Munychion, on which it was the
usage to have a solemn procession in the city, in honor of Jupiter. The
horsemen, as they passed by, some of them threw away their garlands,
others stopped, weeping, and casting sorrowful looks towards the prison
doors, and all the citizens whose minds were not absolutely debauched
by spite and passion, or who had any humanity left, acknowledged it to
have been most impiously done, not, at least, to let that day pass, and
the city so be kept pure from death and a public execution at the
solemn festival. But as if this triumph had been insufficient, the
malice of Phocion's enemies went yet further; his dead body was
excluded from burial within the boundaries of the country, and none of
the Athenians could light a funeral pile to burn the corpse; neither
durst any of his friends venture to concern themselves about it. A
certain Conopion, a man who used to do these offices for hire, took the
body and carried it beyond Eleusis, and procuring fire from over the
frontier of Megara, burned it. Phocion's wife, with her servant-maids,
being present and assisting at the solemnity, raised there an empty
tomb, and performed the customary libations, and gathering up the bones
in her lap, and bringing them home by night, dug a place for them by
the fireside in her house, saying, "Blessed hearth, to your custody I
commit the remains of a good and brave man; and, I beseech you, protect
and restore them to the sepulcher of his fathers, when the Athenians
return to their right minds."
And, indeed, a very little time and their own sad experience soon
informed them what an excellent governor, and how great an example and
guardian of justice and of temperance they had bereft themselves of.
And now they decreed him a statue of brass, and his bones to be buried
honorably at the public charge; and for his accusers, Agnonides they
took themselves, and caused him to be put to death. Epicurus and
Demophilus, who fled from the city for fear, his son met with, and took
his revenge upon them. This son of his, we are told, was in general of
an indifferent character, and once, when enamored of a slave girl kept
by a common harlot merchant, happened to hear Theodorus, the atheist,
arguing in the Lyceum, that if it were a good and honorable thing to
buy the freedom of a friend in the masculine, why not also of a friend
in the feminine, if, for example, a master, why not also a mistress? So
putting the good argument and his passion together, he went off and
purchased the girl's freedom. The death which was thus suffered by
Phocion, revived among the Greeks the memory of that of Socrates, the
two cases being so similar, and both equally the sad fault and
misfortune of the city.
CATO THE YOUNGER
The family of Cato derived its first luster from his great-grandfather
Cato, whose virtue gained him such great reputation and authority among
the Romans, as we have written in his life.
This Cato was, by the loss of both his parents, left an orphan,
together with his brother Caepio, and his sister Porcia. He had also a
half-sister, Servilia, by the mother's side. All these lived together,
and were bred up in the house of Livius Drusus, their uncle by the
mother who, at that time, had a great share in the government, being a
very eloquent speaker, a man of the greatest temperance, and yielding
in dignity to none of the Romans.
It is said of Cato, that even from his infancy, in his speech, his
countenance, and all his childish pastimes, he discovered an inflexible
temper, unmoved by any passion, and firm in everything. He was resolute
in his purposes, much beyond the strength of his age, to go through
with whatever he undertook. He was rough and ungentle toward those that
flattered him, and still more unyielding to those who threatened him.
It was difficult to excite him to laughter; his countenance seldom
relaxed even into a smile; he was not quickly or easily provoked to
anger, but if once incensed, he was no less difficult to pacify.
When he began to learn, he proved dull, and slow to apprehend, but of
what he once received, his memory was remarkably tenacious. And such,
in fact, we find generally to be the course of nature; men of fine
genius are readily reminded of things, but those who receive with most
pains and difficulty, remember best; every new thing they learn, being,
as it were, burnt and branded in on their minds. Cato's natural
stubbornness and slowness to be persuaded, may also have made it more
difficult for him to be taught. For to learn, is to submit to have
something done to one; and persuasion comes soonest to those who have
least strength to resist it. Hence young men are sooner persuaded than
those that are more in years, and sick men, than those that are well in
health In fine, where there is least previous doubt and difficulty the
new impression is most easily accepted. Yet Cato, they say, was very
obedient to his preceptor, and would do whatever he was commanded; but
he would also ask the reason, and inquire the cause of everything. And,
indeed, his teacher was a very well-bred man, more ready to instruct,
than to beat his scholars. His name was Sarpedon.
When Cato was a child, the allies of the Romans sued to be made free
citizens of Rome. Pompaedius Silo, one of their deputies, a brave
soldier, and a man of great repute, who had contracted a friendship
with Drusus, lodged at his house for several days, in which time being
grown familiar with the children, "Well," said he to them, "will you
entreat your uncle to befriend us in our business?" Caepio, smiling,
assented, but Cato made no answer, only he looked steadfastly and
fiercely on the strangers. Then said Pompaedius, "And you, young sir,
what say you to us? will not you, as well as your brother, intercede
with your uncle in our behalf?" And when Cato continued to give no
answer, by his silence and his countenance seeming to deny their
petition, Pompaedius snatched him up to the window as if he would throw
him out, and told him to consent, or he would fling him down, and,
speaking in a harsher tone, held his body out of the window, and shook
him several times. When Cato had suffered this a good while, unmoved
and unalarmed, Pompaedius setting him down, said in an under-voice to
his friend, "What a blessing for Italy, that he is but a child! If he
were a man, I believe we should not gain one voice among the people."
Another time, one of his relations, on his birthday, invited Cato and
some other children to supper, and some of the company diverted
themselves in a separate part of the house, and were at play, the elder
and the younger together, their sport being to act the pleadings before
the judges, accusing one another, and carrying away the condemned to
prison. Among these a very beautiful young child, being bound and
carried by a bigger into prison, cried out to Cato, who seeing what was
going on, presently ran to the door, and thrusting away those who stood
there as guard, took out the child, and went home in anger, followed by
some of his companions.
Cato at length grew so famous among them, that when Sylla designed to
exhibit the sacred game of young men riding courses on horseback, which
they called Troy, having gotten together the youth of good birth, he
appointed two for their leaders. One of them they accepted for his
mother's sake, being the son of Metella, the wife of Sylla; but as for
the other, Sextus, the nephew of Pompey, they would not be led by him,
nor exercise under him. Then Sylla asking, whom they would have, they
all cried out, Cato; and Sextus willingly yielded the honor to him, as
the more worthy.
Sylla, who was a friend of their family, sent at times for Cato and his
brother to see them and talk with them; a favor which he showed to very
few, after gaining his great power and authority. Sarpedon, full of the
advantage it would be, as well for the honor as the safety of his
scholars, would often bring Cato to wait upon Sylla at his house,
which, for the multitude of those that were being carried off in
custody, and tormented there, looked like a place of execution. Cato
was then in his fourteenth year, and seeing the heads of men said to be
of great distinction brought thither, and observing the secret sighs of
those that were present, he asked his preceptor, "Why does nobody kill
this man?'' "Because," said he, "they fear him, child, more than they
hate him." "Why, then," replied Cato, "did you not give me a sword,
that I might stab him, and free my country from this slavery?" Sarpedon
hearing this, and at the same time seeing his countenance swelling with
anger and determination, took care thenceforward to watch him strictly,
lest he should hazard any desperate attempt.
While he was yet very young, to some that asked him, whom he loved
best, he answered, his brother. And being asked, whom next, he replied,
his brother, again. So likewise the third time, and still the same,
till they left off to ask any further. As he grew in age, this love to
his brother grew yet the stronger. When he was about twenty years old,
he never supped, never went out of town, nor into the forum, without
Caepio. But when his brother made use of precious ointments and
perfumes, Cato declined them; and he was, in all his habits, very
strict and austere, so that when Caepio was admired for his moderation
and temperance, he would acknowledge that indeed he might be accounted
such, in comparison with some other men, "but," said he, "when I
compare myself with Cato, I find myself scarcely different from
Sippius," one at that time notorious for his luxurious and effeminate
living.
Cato being made priest of Apollo, went to another house, took his
portion of their paternal inheritance, amounting to a hundred and
twenty talents, and began to live yet more strictly than before. Having
gained the intimate acquaintance of Antipater the Tyrian, the Stoic
philosopher, he devoted himself to the study, above everything, of
moral and political doctrine. And though possessed, as it were, by a
kind of inspiration for the pursuit of every virtue, yet what most of
all virtue and excellence fixed his affection, was that steady and
inflexible Justice, which is not to be wrought upon by favor or
compassion. He learned also the art of speaking and debating in public,
thinking that political philosophy, like a great city, should maintain
for its security the military and warlike element. But he would never
recite his exercises before company, nor was he ever heard to declaim.
And to one that told him, men blamed his silence, "But I hope not my
life," he replied, "I will begin to speak, when I have that to say
which had not better be unsaid."
The great Porcian Hall, as it was called, had been built and dedicated
to the public use by the old Cato, when aedile. Here the tribunes of
the people used to transact their business, and because one of the
pillars was thought to interfere with the convenience of their seats,
they deliberated whether it were best to remove it to another place, or
to take it away. This occasion first drew Cato, much against his will,
into the forum; for he opposed the demand of the tribunes, and in so
doing, gave a specimen both of his courage and his powers of speaking,
which gained him great admiration. His speech had nothing youthful or
refined in it, but was straightforward, full of matter, and rough, at
the same time that there was a certain grace about his rough statements
which won the attention; and the speaker's character showing itself in
all he said, added to his severe language something that excited
feelings of natural pleasure and interest. His voice was full and
sounding, and sufficient to be heard by so great a multitude, and its
vigor and capacity of endurance quite indefatigable; for he often would
speak a whole day, and never stop.
When he had carried this cause, he betook himself again to study and
retirement. He employed himself in inuring his body to labor and
violent exercise; and habituated himself to go bareheaded in the
hottest and the coldest weather, and to walk on foot at all seasons.
When he went on a journey with any of his friends, though they were on
horseback and he on foot, yet he would often join now one, then
another, and converse with them on the way. In sickness, the patience
he showed in supporting, and the abstinence he used for curing his
distempers, were admirable. When he had an ague, he would remain alone,
and suffer nobody to see him, till he began to recover, and found the
fit was over. At supper, when he threw dice for the choice of dishes,
and lost, and the company offered him nevertheless his choice, he
declined to dispute, as he said, the decision of Venus. At first, he
was wont to drink only once after supper, and then go away; but in
process of time he grew to drink more, insomuch that oftentimes he
would continue till morning. This his friends explained by saying that
state affairs and public business took him up all day, and being
desirous of knowledge, he liked to pass the night at wine in the
conversation of philosophers. Hence, upon one Memmius saying in public,
that Cato spent whole nights in drinking, "You should add," replied
Cicero, "that he spends whole days in gambling." And in general Cato
esteemed the customs and manners of men at that time so corrupt, and a
reformation in them so necessary, that he thought it requisite, in many
things, to go contrary to the ordinary way of the world. Seeing the
lightest and gayest purple was then most in fashion, he would always
wear that which was nearest black; and he would often go out of doors,
after his morning meal, without either shoes or tunic; not that he
sought vainglory from such novelties, but he would accustom himself to
be ashamed only of what deserves shame, and to despise all other sorts
of disgrace.
The estate of one Cato, his cousin, which was worth one hundred
talents, falling to him, he turned it all into ready money, which he
kept by him for any of his friends that should happen to want, to whom
he would lend it without interest. And for some of them, he suffered
his own land and his slaves to be mortgaged to the public treasury.
When he thought himself of an age fit to marry, having never before
known any woman, he was contracted to Lepida, who had before been
contracted to Metellus Scipio, but on Scipio's own withdrawal from it,
the contract had been dissolved, and she left at liberty. Yet Scipio
afterward repenting himself, did all he could to regain her, before the
marriage with Cato was completed, and succeeded in so doing. At which
Cato was violently incensed, and resolved at first to go to law about
it; but his friends persuaded him to the contrary. However, he was so
moved by the heat of youth and passion, that he wrote a quantity of
iambic verses against Scipio, in the bitter, sarcastic style of
Archilochus, without, however, his license and scurrility. After this,
he married Atilia, the daughter of Soranus, the first, but not the only
woman he ever knew, less happy thus far than Laelius, the friend of
Scipio, who in the whole course of so long a life never knew but the
one woman to whom he was united in his first and only marriage.
In the war of the slaves, which took its name from Spartacus, their
ringleader, Gellius was general, and Cato went a volunteer, for the
sake of his brother Caepio, who was a tribune in the army. Cato could
find here no opportunity to show his zeal or exercise his valor, on
account of the ill conduct of the general. However, amidst the
corruption and disorders of that army, he showed such a love of
discipline, so much bravery upon occasion, and so much courage and
wisdom in everything, that it appeared he was no way inferior to the
old Cato. Gellius offered him great rewards, and would have decreed him
the first honors; which, however, he refused, saying, he had done
nothing that deserved them. This made him be thought a man of a strange
and eccentric temper.
There was a law passed, moreover, that the candidates who stood for any
office should not have prompters in their canvass, to tell them the
names of the citizens; and Cato, when he sued to be elected tribune,
was the only man that obeyed this law. He took great pains to learn by
his own knowledge to salute those he had to speak with, and to call
them by their names; yet even those who praised him for this, did not
do so without some envy and jealousy, for the more they considered the
excellence of what he did, the more they were grieved at the difficulty
they found to do the like.
Being chosen tribune, he was sent into Macedon to join Rubrius, who was
general there. It is said that his wife showing much concern, and
weeping at his departure, Munatius, one of Cato's friends, said to her,
"Do not trouble yourself, Atilia, I will engage to watch over him for
you." "By all means," replied Cato; and when they had gone one day's
journey together, "Now," said he to Munatius, after they had supped,
"that you may be sure to keep your promise to Atilia, you must not
leave me day nor night," and from that time, he ordered two beds to be
made in his own chamber, that Munatius might lie there. And so he
continued to do, Cato making it his jest to see that he was always
there. There went with him fifteen slaves, two freedmen, and four of
his friends; these rode on horseback, but Cato always went on foot, yet
would he keep by them, and talk with each of them in turn, as they went.
When he came to the army, which consisted of several legions, the
general gave him the command of one; and as he looked upon it as a
small matter, and not worthy a commander, to give evidence of his own
single valor, he resolved to make his soldiers, as far as he could,
like himself, not, however, in this, relaxing the terrors of his
office, but associating reason with his authority. He persuaded and
instructed every one in particular, and bestowed rewards or punishments
according to desert; and at length his men were so well disciplined,
that it was hard to say, whether they were more peaceable, or more
warlike, more valiant, or more just; they were alike formidable to
their enemies and courteous to their allies, fearful to do wrong, and
forward to gain honor. And Cato himself acquired in the fullest
measure, what it had been his least desire to seek, glory and good
repute; he was highly esteemed by all men, and entirely beloved by the
soldiers. Whatever he commanded to be done, he himself took part in the
performing; in his apparel, his diet and mode of traveling, he was more
like a common soldier than an officer; but in character, high purpose,
and wisdom, he far exceeded all that had the names and titles of
commanders, and he made himself, without knowing it, the object of
general affection. For the true love of virtue is in all men produced
by the love and respect they bear to him that teaches it; and those who
praise good men, yet do not love them, may respect their reputation,
but do not really admire, and will never imitate their virtue.
There dwelt at that time in Pergamus, Athenodorus, surnamed Cordylio, a
man of high repute for his knowledge of the stoic philosophy, who was
now grown old, and had always steadily refused the friendship and
acquaintance of princes and great men. Cato understood this; so that
imagining he should not be able to prevail with him by sending or
writing, and being by the laws allowed two months' absence from the
army, he resolved to go into Asia to see him in person, trusting to his
own good qualities not to lose his labor. And when he had conversed
with him, and succeeded in persuading him out of his former
resolutions, he returned and brought him to the camp, as joyful and as
proud of this victory as if he had done some heroic exploit, greater
than any of those of Pompey or Lucullus, who, with their armies, at
that time were subduing so many nations and kingdoms.
While Cato was yet in the service, his brother, on a journey towards
Asia, fell sick at Aenus in Thrace, letters with intelligence of which
were immediately dispatched to him. The sea was very rough, and no
convenient ship of any size to be had; so Cato, getting into a small
trading-vessel, with only two of his friends and three servants, set
sail from Thessalonica, and having very narrowly escaped drowning, he
arrived at Aenus just as Caepio expired. Upon this occasion, he was
thought to have showed himself more a fond brother than a philosopher,
not only in the excess of his grief, bewailing, and embracing the dead
body, but also in the extravagant expenses of the funeral, the vast
quantity of rich perfumes and costly garments which were burnt with the
corpse, and the monument of Thasian marble, which he erected, at the
cost of eight talents, in the public place of the town of Aenus. For
there were some who took upon them to cavil at all this, as not
consistent with his usual calmness and moderation, not discerning that
though he were steadfast, firm, and inflexible to pleasure, fear, or
foolish entreaties, yet he was full of natural tenderness and brotherly
affection. Divers of the cities and princes of the country, sent him
many presents, to honor the funeral of his brother; but he took none of
their money, only the perfumes and ornaments he received, and paid for
them also. And afterwards, when the inheritance was divided between him
and Caepio's daughter, he did not require any portion of the funeral
expenses to be discharged out of it. Notwithstanding this, it has been
affirmed that he made his brother's ashes be passed through a sieve, to
find the gold that was melted down when burnt with the body. But he who
made this statement appears to have anticipated an exemption for his
pen, as much as for his sword, from all question and criticism.
The time of Cato's service in the army being expired, he received, at
his departure, not only the prayers and praises, but the tears, and
embraces of the soldiers, who spread their clothes at his feet, and
kissed his hand as he passed, an honor which the Romans at that time
scarcely paid even to a very few of their generals and
commander-in-chief. Having left the army, he resolved, before he would
return home and apply himself to state affairs, to travel in Asia, and
observe the manners, the customs, and the strength of every province.
He was also unwilling to refuse the kindness of Deiotarus, king of
Galatia, who having had great familiarity and friendship with his
father, was very desirous to receive a visit from him. Cato's
arrangements in his journey were as follows. Early in the morning he
sent out his baker and his cook towards the place where he designed to
stay the next night; these went soberly and quietly into the town, in
which, if there happened to be no friend or acquaintance of Cato or his
family, they provided for him in an inn, and gave no disturbance to
anybody; but if there were no inn, then and in this case only, they
went to the magistrates, and desiring them to help them to lodgings,
took without complaint whatever was allotted to them. His servants thus
behaving themselves towards the magistrates, without noise and
threatening, were often discredited, or neglected by them, so that Cato
many times arrived and found nothing provided for him. And it was all
the worse when he appeared himself; still less account was taken of
him. When they saw him sitting, without saying anything, on his
baggage, they set him down at once as a person of no consequence, who
did not venture to make any demand. Sometimes, on such occasions, he
would call them to him and tell them, "Foolish people, lay aside this
inhospitality. All your visitors will not be Catos. Use your courtesy,
to take off the sharp edge of power. There are men enough who desire
but a pretense, to take from you by force, what you give with such
reluctance."
While he traveled in this manner, a diverting accident befell him in
Syria. As he was going into Antioch, he saw a great multitude of people
outside the gates, ranged in order on either side the way; here the
young men with long cloaks, there the children decently dressed; others
wore garlands and white garments, who were the priests and magistrates.
Cato, imagining all this could mean nothing but a display in honor of
his reception, began to be angry with his servants who had been sent
before, for suffering it to be done; then making his friends alight, he
walked along with them on foot. As soon as he came near the gate, an
elderly man, who seemed to be master of these ceremonies, with a wand
and a garland in his hand, came up to Cato, and without saluting him,
asked him, where he had left Demetrius, and how soon he thought he
would be there. This Demetrius was Pompey's servant, and as at this
time the whole world, so to say, had its eyes fixed upon Pompey, this
man also was highly honored, on account of his influence with his
master. Upon this, Cato's friends fell into such violent laughter, that
they could not restrain themselves while they passed through the crowd;
and he himself, ashamed and distressed, uttered the words, "Unfortunate
city!" and said no more. Afterwards, however, it always made him laugh,
when he either told the story or was otherwise reminded of it.
Pompey himself shortly after made the people ashamed of their ignorance
and folly in thus neglecting him, for Cato, coming in his journey to
Ephesus, went to pay his respects to him, who was the elder man, had
gained much honor, and was then general of a great army. Yet Pompey
would not receive him sitting, but as soon as he saw him, rose up, and
going to meet him, as the more honorable person, gave him his hand, and
embraced him with great show of kindness. He said much in commendation
of his virtue, both at that time when receiving him, and also yet more,
after he had withdrawn. So that now all men began at once to display
their respect for Cato, and discovered in the very same things for
which they despised him before, an admirable mildness of temper, and
greatness of spirit. And indeed the civility that Pompey himself showed
him, appeared to come from one that rather respected than loved him;
and the general opinion was, that while Cato was there, he paid him
admiration, but was not sorry when he was gone. For when other young
men came to see him, he usually urged and entreated them to continue
with him. Now he did not at all invite Cato to stay, but as if his own
power were lessened by the other's presence, he very willingly allowed
him to take his leave. Yet to Cato alone, of all those who went for
Rome, he recommended his children and his wife, who was indeed
connected by relationship with Cato.
After this, all the cities through which he passed, strove and emulated
each other in showing him respect and honor. Feasts and entertainments
were made for his reception, so that he bade his friends keep strict
watch and take care of him, lest he should end by making good what was
said by Curio, who though he were his familial friend, yet disliking
the austerity of his temper, asked him one day, if when he left the
army, he designed to see Asia, and Cato answering, "Yes, by all means,"
"You do well," replied Curio, "you will bring back with you a better
temper and pleasanter manners;" pretty nearly the very words he used.
Deiotarus being now an old man, had sent for Cato, to recommend his
children and family to his protection; and as soon as he came, brought
him presents of all sorts of things, which he begged and entreated him
to accept. And his importunities displeased Cato so much, that though
he came but in the evening, he stayed only that night, and went away
early the next morning. After he was gone one day's journey, he found
at Pessinus a yet greater quantity of presents provided for him there,
and also letters from Deiotarus, entreating him to receive them, or at
least to permit his friends to take them, who for his sake deserved
some gratification, and could not have much done for them out of Cato's
own means. Yet he would not suffer it, though he saw some of them very
willing to receive such gifts, and ready to complain of his severity;
but he answered, that corruption would never want pretense, and his
friends should share with him in whatever he should justly and honestly
obtain, and so returned the presents to Deiotarus.
When he took ship for Brundusium, his friends would have persuaded him
to put his brother's ashes into another vessel; but he said, he would
sooner part with his life than leave them, and so set sail. And as it
chanced, he, we are told, had a very dangerous passage, though others
at the same time went over safely enough.
After he was returned to Rome, he spent his time for the most part
either at home, in conversation with Athenodorus, or at the forum, in
the service of his friends. Though it was now the time that he should
become quaestor, he would not stand for the place till he had studied
the laws relating to it, and by inquiry from persons of experience, had
attained a distinct understanding of the duty and authority belonging
to it. With this knowledge, as soon as he came into the office, he made
a great reformation among the clerks and under-officers of the
treasury, people who had long practice and familiarity in all the
public records and the laws, and, when new magistrates came in year by
year, so ignorant and unskillful as to be in absolute need of others to
teach them what to do, did not submit and give way, but kept the power
in their own hands, and were in effect the treasurers themselves. Till
Cato, applying himself roundly to the work, showed that he possessed
not only the title and honor of a quaestor, but the knowledge and
understanding and full authority of his office. So that he used the
clerks and under-officers like servants, as they were, exposing their
corrupt practices, and instructing their ignorance. Being bold impudent
fellows, they flattered the other quaestors, his colleagues, and by
their means endeavored to maintain an opposition against him. But he
convicted the chiefest of them of a breach of trust in the charge of an
inheritance, and turned him out of his place. A second he brought to
trial for dishonesty, who was defended by Lutatius Catulus, at that
time censor, a man very considerable for his office, but yet more for
his character, as he was eminent above all the Romans of that age for
his reputed wisdom and integrity. He was also intimate with Cato, and
much commended his way of living. So perceiving he could not bring off
his client, if he stood a fair trial, he openly began to beg him off.
Cato objected to his doing this. And when he continued still to be
importunate, "It would be shameful, Catulus," he said, "that the
censor, the judge of all our lives, should incur the dishonor of
removal by our officers." At this expression, Catalus looked as if he
would have made some answer; but he said nothing, and either through
anger or shame went away silent, and out of countenance. Nevertheless,
the man was not found guilty, for the voices that acquitted him were
but one in number less than those that condemned him, and Marcus
Lollius, one of Cato's colleagues, who was absent by reason of
sickness, was sent for by Catalus, and entreated to come and save the
man. So Lollius was brought into court in a chair, and gave his voice
also for acquitting him. Yet Cato never after made use of that clerk,
and never paid him his salary, nor would he make any account of the
vote given by Lollius. Having thus humbled the clerks, and brought them
to be at command, he made use of the books and registers as he thought
fit, and in a little while gained the treasury a higher name than the
Senate-house itself; and all men said, Cato had made the office of a
quaestor equal to the dignity of a consul. When he found many indebted
to the state upon old accounts, and the state also in debt to many
private persons, he took care that the public might no longer either do
or suffer wrong; he strictly and punctually exacted what was due to the
treasury, and as freely and speedily paid all those to whom it was
indebted. So that the people were filled with sentiments of awe and
respect, on seeing those made to pay, who thought to have escaped with
their plunder, and others receiving all their due, who despaired of
getting anything. And whereas usually those who brought false bills and
pretended orders of the senate, could through favor get them accepted,
Cato would never be so imposed upon, and in the case of one particular
order, question arising, whether it had passed the senate, he would not
believe a great many witnesses that attested it, nor would admit of it,
till the consuls came and affirmed it upon oath.
There were at that time a great many whom Sylla had made use of as his
agents in the proscription, and to whom he had for their service in
putting men to death, given twelve thousand drachmas apiece. These men
everybody hated as wicked and polluted wretches, but nobody durst be
revenged upon them. Cato called everyone to account, as wrongfully
possessed of the public money, and exacted it of them, and at the same
time sharply reproved them for their unlawful and impious actions.
After these proceedings, they were presently accused of murder, and
being already in a manner prejudged as guilty, they were easily found
so, and accordingly suffered; at which the whole people rejoiced, and
thought themselves now to see the old tyranny finally abolished, and
Sylla himself, so to say, brought to punishment.
Cato's assiduity also, and indefatigable diligence, won very much upon
the people. He always came first of any of his colleagues to the
treasury, and went away the last. He never missed any assembly of the
people, or sitting of the senate; being always anxious and on the watch
for those who lightly, or as a matter of interest, passed votes in
favor of this or that person, for remitting debts or granting away
customs that were owing to the state. And at length, having kept the
exchequer pure and clear from base informers, and yet having filled it
with treasure, he made it appear the state might be rich, without
oppressing the people. At first he excited feelings of dislike and
irritation in some of his colleagues, but after a while they were well
contented with him, since he was perfectly willing that they should
cast all the odium on him, when they declined to gratify their friends
with the public money, or to give dishonest judgments in passing their
accounts; and when hard pressed by suitors, they could readily answer
it was impossible to do anything, unless Cato would consent. On the
last day of his office, he was honorably attended to his house by
almost all the people; but on the way he was informed that several
powerful friends were in the treasury with Marcellus, using all their
interest with him to pass a certain debt to the public revenue, as if
it had been a gift. Marcellus had been one of Cato's friends from his
childhood, and so long as Cato was with him, was one of the best of his
colleagues in this office, but when alone, was unable to resist the
importunity of suitors, and prone to do anybody a kindness. So Cato
immediately turned back, and finding that Marcellus had yielded to pass
the thing, he took the book, and while Marcellus silently stood by and
looked on, struck it out. This done, he brought Marcellus out of the
treasury, and took him home with him; who for all this, neither then,
nor ever after, complained of him, but always continued his friendship
and familiarity with him.
Cato after he had laid down his office, yet did not cease to keep a
watch upon the treasury. He had his servants who continually wrote out
the details of the expenditure, and he himself kept always by him
certain books, which contained the accounts of the revenue from Sylla's
time to his own quaestorship, which he had bought for five talents.
He was always first at the senate, and went out last; and often, while
the others were slowly collecting, he would sit and read by himself,
holding his gown before his book. He was never once out of town when
the senate was to meet. And when afterwards Pompey and his party,
finding that he could never be either persuaded or compelled to favor
their unjust designs, endeavored to keep him from the senate, by
engaging him in business for his friends, to plead their causes, or
arbitrate in their differences, or the like, he quickly discovered the
trick, and to defeat it, fairly told all his acquaintance that he would
never meddle in any private business when the senate was assembled.
Since it was not in the hope of gaining honor or riches, nor out of
mere impulse, or by chance that he engaged himself in politics, but he
undertook the service of the state, as the proper business of an honest
man, and therefore he thought himself obliged to be as constant to his
public duty, as the bee to the honeycomb. To this end, he took care to
have his friends and correspondents everywhere, to send him reports of
the edicts, decrees, judgments, and all the important proceedings that
passed in any of the provinces. Once when Clodius, the seditious
orator, to promote his violent and revolutionary projects, traduced to
the people some of the priests and priestesses, (among whom Fabia,
sister to Cicero's wife, Terentia, ran great danger,) Cato, having
boldly interfered, and having made Clodius appear so infamous that he
was forced to leave the town, was addressed, when it was over, by
Cicero, who came to thank him for what he had done. "You must thank the
commonwealth," said he, for whose sake alone he professed to do
everything. Thus he gained a great and wonderful reputation; so that an
advocate in a cause, where there was only one witness against him, told
the judges they ought not to rely upon a single witness, though it were
Cato himself. And it was a sort of proverb with many people, if any
very unlikely and incredible thing were asserted, to say, they would
not believe it, though Cato himself should affirm it. One day a
debauched and sumptuous liver talking in the senate about frugality and
temperance, Amnaeus standing up, cried, "Who can endure this, Sir, to
have you feast like Crassus, build like Lucullus and talk like Cato."
So likewise those who were vicious and dissolute in their manners, yet
affected to be grave and severe in their language, were in derision
called Catos.
At first, when his friends would have persuaded him to stand to be
tribune of the people, he thought it undesirable; for that the power of
so great an office ought to be reserved, as the strongest medicines,
for occasions of the last necessity. But afterwards in a vacation time,
as he was going, accompanied with his books and philosophers, to
Lucania, where he had lands with a pleasant residence, they met by the
way a great many horses, carriages, and attendants, of whom they
understood, that Metellus Nepos was going to Rome, to stand to be
tribune of the people. Hereupon Cato stopped, and after a little pause,
gave orders to return back immediately; at which the company seeming to
wonder, "Don't you know," said he, "how dangerous of itself the madness
of Metellus is? and now that he comes armed with the support of Pompey,
he will fall like lightning on the state, and bring it to utter
disorder; therefore this is no time for idleness and diversion, but we
must go and prevent this man in his designs, or bravely die in defense
of our liberty." Nevertheless, by the persuasion of his friends, he
went first to his country-house, where he stayed but a very little
time, and then returned to town.
He arrived in the evening, and went straight the next morning to the
forum, where he began to solicit for the tribuneship, in opposition to
Metellus. The power of this office consists rather in controlling, than
performing any business; for though all the rest except any one tribune
should be agreed, yet his denial or intercession could put a stop to
the whole matter. Cato, at first, had not many that appeared for him;
but as soon as his design was known, all the good and distinguished
persons of the city quickly came forward to encourage and support him,
looking upon him, not as one that desired a favor of them, but one that
proposed to do a great favor to his country and all honest men; who had
many times refused the same office, when he might have had it without
trouble, but now sought it with danger, that he might defend their
liberty and their government. It is reported that so great a number
flocked about him, that he was like to be stifled amidst the press, and
could scarce get through the crowd. He was declared tribune, with
several others, among whom was Metellus.
When Cato was chosen into this office, observing that the election of
consuls was become a matter of purchase, he sharply rebuked the people
for this corruption, and in the conclusion of his speech protested, he
would bring to trial whomever he should find giving money, making an
exception only in the case of Silanus, on account of their near
connection, he having married Servilia, Cato's sister. He therefore did
not prosecute him, but accused Lucius Murena, who had been chosen
consul by corrupt means with Silanus. There was a law that the party
accused might appoint a person to keep watch upon his accuser, that he
might know fairly what means he took in preparing the accusation. He
that was set upon Cato by Murena, at first followed and observed him
strictly, yet never found him dealing any way unfairly or insidiously,
but always generously and candidly going on in the just and open
methods of proceeding. And he so admired Cato's great spirit, and so
entirely trusted to his integrity, that meeting him in the forum, or
going to his house, he would ask him, if he designed to do anything
that day in order to the accusation, and if Cato said no, he went away,
relying on his word. When the cause was pleaded, Cicero, who was then
consul and defended Murena, took occasion to be extremely witty and
jocose, in reference to Cato, upon the stoic philosophers, and their
paradoxes, as they call them, and so excited great laughter among the
judges; upon which Cato, smiling, said to the standers by, "What a
pleasant consul we have, my friends." Murena was acquitted, and
afterwards showed himself a man of no ill feeling or want of sense; for
when he was consul, he always took Cato's advice in the most weighty
affairs, and during all the time of his office, paid him much honor and
respect. Of which not only Murena's prudence, but also Cato's own
behavior, was the cause; for though he were terrible and severe as to
matters of justice, in the senate, and at the bar, yet after the thing
was over, his manner to all men was perfectly friendly and humane.
Before he entered on the office of tribune, he assisted Cicero, at that
time consul, in many contests that concerned his office, but most
especially in his great and noble acts at the time of Catiline's
conspiracy, which owed their last successful issue to Cato. Catiline
had plotted a dreadful and entire subversion of the Roman state by
sedition and open war, but being convicted by Cicero, was forced to fly
the city. Yet Lentulus and Cethegus remained with several others, to
carry on the same plot; and blaming Catiline, as one that wanted
courage, and had been timid and petty in his designs, they themselves
resolved to set the whole town on fire, and utterly to overthrow the
empire, rousing whole nations to revolt and exciting foreign wars. But
the design was discovered by Cicero, (as we have written in his life,)
and the matter brought before the senate. Silanus, who spoke first,
delivered his opinion, that the conspirators ought to suffer the last
of punishments, and was therein followed by all who spoke after him;
till it came to Caesar, who being an excellent speaker, and looking
upon all changes and commotions in the state as materials useful for
his own purposes, desired rather to increase than extinguish them; and
standing up, he made a very merciful and persuasive speech, that they
ought not to suffer death without fair trial according to law, and
moved that they might be kept in prison. Thus was the house almost
wholly turned by Caesar, apprehending also the anger of the people;
insomuch that even Silanus retracted, and said he did not mean to
propose death, but imprisonment, for that was the utmost a Roman could
suffer. Upon this they were all inclined to the milder and more
merciful opinion, when Cato standing up, began at once with great
passion and vehemence to reproach Silanus for his change of opinion,
and to attack Caesar, who would, he said, ruin the commonwealth by soft
words and popular speeches, and was endeavoring to frighten the senate,
when he himself ought to fear, and be thankful, if he escaped
unpunished or unsuspected, who thus openly and boldly dared to protect
the enemies of the state, and while finding no compassion for his own
native country, brought, with all its glories, so near to utter ruin,
could yet be full of pity for those men, who had better never have been
born, and whose death must deliver the commonwealth from bloodshed and
destruction. This only of all Cato's speeches, it is said, was
preserved; for Cicero, the consul, had disposed, in various parts of
the senate-house, several of the most expert and rapid writers, whom he
had taught to make figures comprising numerous words in a few short
strokes; as up to that time they had not used those we call short-hand
writers, who then, as it is said, established the first example of the
art. Thus Cato carried it, and so turned the house again, that it was
decreed the conspirators should be put to death.
Not to omit any small matters that may serve to show Cato's temper, and
add something to the portraiture of his mind, it is reported, that
while Caesar and he were in the very heat, and the whole senate
regarding them two, a little note was brought in to Caesar, which Cato
declared to be suspicious, and urging that some seditious act was going
on, bade the letter be read. Upon which Caesar handed the paper to
Cato; who discovering it to be a love-letter from his sister Servilia
to Caesar, by whom she had been corrupted, threw it to him again,
saying, "Take it, drunkard," and so went on with his discourse. And,
indeed, it seems Cato had but ill-fortune in women; for this lady was
ill spoken of, for her familiarity with Caesar, and the other Servilia,
Cato's sister also, was yet more ill-conducted; for being married to
Lucullus, one of the greatest men in Rome, and having brought him a
son, she was afterwards divorced for incontinency. But what was worst
of all, Cato's own wife Atilia was not free from the same fault; and
after she had borne him two children, he was forced to put her away for
her misconduct. After that he married Marcia, the daughter of
Philippus, a woman of good reputation, who yet has occasioned much
discourse; and the life of Cato, like a dramatic piece, has this one
scene or passage full of perplexity and doubtful meaning.
It is thus related by Thrasea, who refers to the authority of Munatius,
Cato's friend and constant companion. Among many that loved and admired
Cato, some were more remarkable and conspicuous than others. Of these
was Quintus Hortensius, a man of high repute and approved virtue, who
desired not only to live in friendship and familiarity with Cato, but
also to unite his whole house and family with him by some sort or other
of alliance in marriage. Therefore he set himself to persuade Cato,
that his daughter Porcia, who was already married to Bibulus, and had
borne him two children, might nevertheless be given to him, as a fair
plot of land, to bear fruit also for him. "For," said he, "though this
in the opinion of men may seem strange, yet in nature it is honest, and
profitable for the public, that a woman in the prime of her youth
should not lie useless, and lose the fruit of her womb, nor, on the
other side, should burden and impoverish one man, by bringing him too
many children. Also by this communication of families among worthy men,
virtue would increase, and be diffused through their posterity; and the
commonwealth would be united and cemented by their alliances." Yet if
Bibulus would not part with his wife altogether, he would restore her
as soon as she had brought him a child, whereby he might be united to
both their families. Cato answered, that he loved Hortensius very well,
and much approved of uniting their houses, but he thought it strange to
speak of marrying his daughter, when she was already given to another.
Then Hortensius, turning the discourse, did not hesitate to speak
openly and ask for Cato's own wife, for she was young and fruitful, and
he had already children enough. Neither can it be thought that
Hortensius did this, as imagining Cato did not care for Marcia; for, it
is said, she was then with child. Cato, perceiving his earnest desire,
did not deny his request, but said that Philippus, the father of
Marcia, ought also to be consulted. Philippus, therefore, being sent
for, came; and finding they were well agreed, gave his daughter Marcia
to Hortensius in the presence of Cato, who himself also assisted at the
marriage. This was done at a later time, but since I was speaking of
women, I thought it well to mention it now.
Lentulus and the rest of the conspirators were put to death, but
Caesar, finding so much insinuated and charged against him in the
senate, betook himself to the people, and proceeded to stir up the most
corrupt and dissolute elements of the state to form a party in his
support. Cato, apprehensive of what might ensue, persuaded the senate
to win over the poor and unprovided-for multitude, by a distribution of
corn, the annual charge of which amounted to twelve hundred and fifty
talents. This act of humanity and kindness unquestionably dissipated
the present danger. But Metellus, coming into his office of tribune,
began to hold tumultuous assemblies, and had prepared a decree, that
Pompey the Great should presently be called into Italy, with all his
forces, to preserve the city from the danger of Catiline's conspiracy.
This was the fair pretense; but the true design was, to deliver all
into the hands of Pompey, and give him an absolute power. Upon this the
senate was assembled, and Cato did not fall sharply upon Metellus, as
he often did, but urged his advice in the most reasonable and moderate
tone. At last he descended even to entreaty, and extolled the house of
Metellus, as having always taken part with the nobility. At this
Metellus grew the more insolent, and despising Cato, as if he yielded
and were afraid, let himself proceed to the most audacious menaces,
openly threatening to do whatever he pleased in spite of the senate.
Upon this Cato changed his countenance, his voice, and his language;
and after many sharp expressions, boldly concluded, that while he
lived, Pompey should never come armed into the city. The senate thought
them both extravagant, and not well in their safe senses; for the
design of Metellus seemed to be mere rage and frenzy, out of excess of
mischief bringing all things to ruin and confusion, and Cato's virtue
looked like a kind of ecstasy of contention in the cause of what was
good and just.
But when the day came for the people to give their voices for the
passing this decree, and Metellus beforehand occupied the forum with
armed men, strangers, gladiators, and slaves, those that in hopes of
change followed Pompey, were known to be no small part of the people,
and besides, they had great assistance from Caesar, who was then
praetor; and though the best and chiefest men of the city were no less
offended at these proceedings than Cato, they seemed rather likely to
suffer with him, than able to assist him. In the meantime Cato's whole
family were in extreme fear and apprehension for him; some of his
friends neither ate nor slept all the night, passing the whole time in
debating and perplexity; his wife and sisters also bewailed and
lamented him. But he himself, void of all fear, and full of assurance,
comforted and encouraged them by his own words and conversation with
them. After supper he went to rest at his usual hour, and was the next
day waked out of a profound sleep by Minucius Thermus, one of his
colleagues. So soon as he was up, they two went together into the
forum, accompanied by very few, but met by a great many, who bade them
have a care of themselves. Cato, therefore, when he saw the temple of
Castor and Pollux encompassed with armed men, and the steps guarded by
gladiators, and at the top Metellus and Caesar seated together, turning
to his friends, "Behold," said he, "this audacious coward, who has
levied a regiment of soldiers against one unarmed naked man;" and so he
went on with Thermus. Those who kept the passages, gave way to these
two only, and would not let anybody else pass. Yet Cato taking Munatius
by the hand, with much difficulty pulled him through along with him.
Then going directly to Metellus and Caesar, he sat himself down between
them, to prevent their talking to one another, at which they were both
amazed and confounded. And those of the honest party, observing the
countenance, and admiring the high spirit and boldness of Cato, went
nearer, and cried out to him to have courage, exhorting also one
another to stand together, and not betray their liberty, nor the
defender of it.
Then the clerk took out the bill, but Cato forbade him to read it,
whereupon Metellus took it, and would have read it himself, but Cato
snatched away the book. Yet Metellus having the decree by heart, began
to recite it without book; but Thermus put his hand to his mouth, and
stopped his speech. Metellus seeing them fully bent to withstand him,
and the people cowed, and inclining to the better side, sent to his
house for armed men. And on their rushing in with great noise and
terror, all the rest dispersed and ran away, except Cato, who alone
stood still, while the other party threw sticks and stones at him from
above, until Murena, whom he had formerly accused, came up to protect
him, and holding his gown before him, cried out to them to leave off
throwing; and, in fine, persuading and pulling him along, he forced him
into the temple of Castor and Pollux. Metellus now seeing the place
clear, and all the adverse party fled out of the forum, thought he
might easily carry his point; so he commanded the soldiers to retire,
and recommencing in an orderly manner, began to proceed to passing the
decree. But the other side having recovered themselves, returned very
boldly, and with loud shouting, insomuch that Metellus's adherents were
seized with a panic, supposing them to be coming with a reinforcement
of armed men, and fled every one out of the place. They being thus
dispersed, Cato came in again, and confirmed the courage, and commended
the resolution of the people; so that now the majority were, by all
means, for deposing Metellus from his office. The senate also being
assembled, gave orders once more for supporting Cato, and resisting the
motion, as of a nature to excite sedition and perhaps civil war in the
city.
But Metellus continued still very bold and resolute; and seeing his
party stood greatly in fear of Cato, whom they looked upon as
invincible, he hurried out of the senate into the forum, and assembled
the people, to whom he made a bitter and invidious speech against Cato,
crying out, he was forced to fly from his tyranny, and this conspiracy
against Pompey; that the city would soon repent their having dishonored
so great a man. And from hence he started to go to Asia, with the
intention, as would be supposed, of laying before Pompey all the
injuries that were done him. Cato was highly extolled for having
delivered the state from this dangerous tribuneship, and having in some
measure defeated, in the person of Metellus, the power of Pompey; but
he was yet more commended when, upon the senate proceeding to disgrace
Metellus and depose him from his office, he altogether opposed and at
length diverted the design. The common people admired his moderation
and humanity, in not trampling wantonly on an enemy whom he had
overthrown, and wiser men acknowledged his prudence and policy, in not
exasperating Pompey.
Lucullus soon after returned from the war in Asia, the finishing of
which, and thereby the glory of the whole, was thus, in all appearance,
taken out of his hands by Pompey. And he was also not far from losing
his triumph, for Caius Memmius traduced him to the people, and
threatened to accuse him; rather, however, out of love to Pompey, than
for any particular enmity to him. But Cato, being allied to Lucullus,
who had married his sister Servilia, and also thinking it a great
injustice, opposed Memmius, thereby exposing himself to much slander
and misrepresentation, insomuch that they would have turned him out of
his office, pretending that he used his power tyrannically. Yet at
length Cato so far prevailed against Memmius, that he was forced to let
fall the accusations, and abandon the contest. And Lucullus having thus
obtained his triumph, yet more sedulously cultivated Cato's friendship,
which he looked upon as a great guard and defense for him against
Pompey's power.
And now Pompey also returning with glory from the war, and confiding in
the good-will of the people, shown in their splendid reception of him,
thought he should be denied nothing, and sent therefore to the senate
to put off the assembly for the election of consuls, till he could be
present to assist Piso, who stood for that office. To this most of the
senators were disposed to yield; Cato, only, not so much thinking that
this delay would be of great importance, but, desiring to cut down at
once Pompey's high expectations and designs, withstood his request, and
so overruled the senate, that it was carried against him. And this not
a little disturbed Pompey, who found he should very often fail in his
projects, unless he could bring over Cato to his interest. He sent,
therefore, for Munatius, his friend; and Cato having two nieces that
were marriageable, he offered to marry the eldest himself, and take the
youngest for his son. Some say they were not his nieces, but his
daughters. Munatius proposed the matter to Cato, in presence of his
wife and sisters; the women were full of joy at the prospect of an
alliance with so great and important a person. But Cato, without delay
or balancing, forming his decision at once, answered, "Go, Munatius, go
and tell Pompey, that Cato is not assailable on the side of the women's
chamber; I am grateful indeed for the intended kindness, and so long as
his actions are upright, I promise him a friendship more sure than any
marriage alliance, but I will not give hostages to Pompey's glory,
against my country's safety." This answer was very much against the
wishes of the women, and to all his friends it seemed somewhat harsh
and haughty. But afterwards, when Pompey, endeavoring to get the
consulship for one of his friends, gave pay to the people for their
votes, and the bribery was notorious, the money being counted out in
Pompey's own gardens, Cato then said to the women, they must
necessarily have been concerned in the contamination of these misdeeds
of Pompey, if they had been allied to his family; and they acknowledged
that he did best in refusing it. Yet if we may judge by the event, Cato
was much to blame in rejecting that alliance, which thereby fell to
Caesar. And then that match was made, which, uniting his and Pompey's
power, had well-nigh ruined the Roman empire, and did destroy the
commonwealth. Nothing of which perhaps had come to pass, but that Cato
was too apprehensive of Pompey's least faults, and did not consider how
he forced him into conferring on another man the opportunity of
committing the greatest.
These things, however, were yet to come. Lucullus, meantime, and
Pompey, had a great dispute concerning their orders and arrangements in
Pontus, each endeavoring that his own ordinances might stand. Cato took
part with Lucullus, who was manifestly suffering wrong; and Pompey,
finding himself the weaker in the senate, had recourse to the people,
and to gain votes, he proposed a law for dividing the lands among the
soldiers. Cato opposing him in this also, made the bill be rejected.
Upon this he joined himself with Clodius, at that time the most violent
of all the demagogues; and entered also into friendship with Caesar,
upon an occasion of which also Cato was the cause. For Caesar returning
from his government in Spain, at the same time sued to be chosen
consul, and yet desired not to lose his triumph. Now the law requiring
that those who stood for any office should be present, and yet that
whoever expected a triumph should continue without the walls, Caesar
requested the senate, that his friends might be permitted to canvass
for him in his absence. Many of the senators were willing to consent to
it, but Cato opposed it, and perceiving them inclined to favor Caesar,
spent the whole day in speaking, and so prevented the senate from
coming to any conclusion. Caesar, therefore, resolving to let fall his
pretensions to the triumph, came into the town, and immediately made a
friendship with Pompey, and stood for the consulship. And so soon as he
was declared consul elect, he married his daughter Julia to Pompey. And
having thus combined themselves together against the commonwealth, the
one proposed laws for dividing the lands among the poor people, and the
other was present to support the proposals Lucullus, Cicero, and their
friends, joined with Bibulus, the other consul, to hinder their
passing, and, foremost of them all, Cato, who already looked upon the
friendship and alliance of Pompey and Caesar as very dangerous, and
declared he did not so much dislike the advantage the people should get
by this division of the lands, as he feared the reward these men would
gain, by thus courting and cozening the people. And in this he gained
over the senate to his opinion, as likewise many who were not senators,
who were offended at Caesar's ill conduct, that he, in the office of
consul, should thus basely and dishonorably flatter the people;
practicing, to win their favor, the same means that were wont to be
used only by the most rash and rebellious tribunes. Caesar, therefore,
and his party, fearing they should not carry it by fair dealing, fell
to open force. First a basket of dung was thrown upon Bibulus as he was
going to the forum; then they set upon his lictors and broke their
rods; at length several darts were thrown, and many men wounded; so
that all that were against those laws, fled out of the forum, the rest
with what haste they could, and Cato, last of all, walking out slowly,
often turning back and calling down vengeance upon them.
Thus the other party not only carried their point of dividing the
lands, but also ordained, that all the senate should swear to confirm
this law, and to defend it against whoever should attempt to alter it,
indicting great penalties on those that should refuse the oath. All the
senators seeing the necessity they were in, took the oath, remembering
the example of Metellus in old time, who refusing to swear upon the
like occasion, was forced to leave Italy. As for Cato, his wife and
children with tears besought him, his friends and familiars persuaded
and entreated him, to yield and take the oath; but he that principally
prevailed with him was Cicero, the orator, who urged upon him that it
was perhaps not even right in itself, that a private man should oppose
what the public had decreed; that the thing being already past
altering, it were folly and madness to throw himself into danger,
without the chance of doing his country any good; it would be the
greatest of all evils, to embrace, as it were, the opportunity to
abandon the commonwealth, for whose sake he did everything, and to let
it fall into the hands of those who designed nothing but its ruin, as
if he were glad to be saved from the trouble of defending it. "For,"
said he, "though Cato have no need of Rome, yet Rome has need of Cato,
and so likewise have all his friends." Of whom Cicero professed he
himself was the chief, being; at that time aimed at by Clodius, who
openly threatened to fall upon him, as soon as ever he should get to be
tribune. Thus Cato, they say, moved by the entreaties and the arguments
of his friends, went unwillingly to take the oath, which he did the
last of all, except only Favonius, one of his intimate acquaintance.
Caesar, exalted with this success, proposed another law, for dividing
almost all the country of Campania among the poor and needy citizens.
Nobody durst speak against it but Cato, whom Caesar therefore pulled
from the rostra, and dragged to prison: yet Cato did not even thus
remit his freedom of speech, but as he went along, continued to speak
against the law, and advised the people to put down all legislators who
proposed the like. The senate and the best of the citizens followed him
with sad and dejected looks, showing their grief and indignation by
their silence, so that Caesar could not be ignorant how much they were
offended; but for contention's sake, he still persisted, expecting Cato
should either supplicate him, or make an appeal. But when he saw that
he did not so much as think of doing either, ashamed of what he was
doing and of what people thought of it, he himself privately bade one
of the tribunes interpose and procure his release. However, having won
the multitude by these laws and gratifications, they decreed that
Caesar should have the government of Illyricum, and all Gaul, with an
army of four legions, for the space of five years, though Cato still
cried out they were, by their own vote, placing a tyrant in their
citadel. Publius Clodius, who illegally of a patrician became a
plebeian, was declared tribune of the people, as he had promised to do
all things according to their pleasure, on condition he might banish
Cicero. And for consuls, they set up Calpurnius Piso, the father of
Caesar's wife, and Aulus Gabinius, one of Pompey's creatures, as they
tell us, who best knew his life and manners.
Yet when they had thus firmly established all things, having mastered
one part of the city by favor, and the other by fear, they themselves
were still afraid of Cato, and remembered with vexation what pains and
trouble their success over him had cost them, and indeed what shame and
disgrace, when at last they were driven to use violence to him. This
made Clodius despair of driving Cicero out of Italy while Cato stayed
at home. Therefore, having first laid his design, as soon as he came
into his office, he sent for Cato, and told him, that he looked upon
him as the most incorrupt of all the Romans, and was ready to show he
did so. "For whereas," said he, "many have applied to be sent to Cyprus
on the commission in the case of Ptolemy, and have solicited to have
the appointment, I think you alone are deserving of it, and I desire to
give you the favor of the appointment." Cato at once cried out, it was
a mere design upon him, and no favor, but an injury. Then Clodius
proudly and fiercely answered, "If you will not take it as a kindness,
you shall go, though never so unwillingly;" and immediately going into
the assembly of the people, he made them pass a decree, that Cato
should be sent to Cyprus. But they ordered him neither ship, nor
soldier, nor any attendant, except two secretaries; one of whom was a
thief and a rascal, and the other a retainer to Clodius. Besides, as if
Cyprus and Ptolemy were not work sufficient, he was ordered also to
restore the refugees of Byzantium. For Clodius was resolved to keep him
far enough off, whilst himself continued tribune.
Cato being in this necessity of going away, advised Cicero, who was
next to be set upon, to make no resistance, lest he should throw the
state into civil war and confusion, but to give way to the times, and
thus become once more the preserver of his country. He himself sent
forward Canidius, one of his friends, to Cyprus, to persuade Ptolemy to
yield, without being forced; which if he did, he should want neither
riches nor honor, for the Romans would give him the priesthood of the
goddess at Paphos. He himself stayed at Rhodes, making some
preparations, and expecting an answer from Cyprus. In the meantime,
Ptolemy, king of Egypt, who had left Alexandria, upon some quarrel
between him and his subjects, and was sailing for Rome, in hopes that
Pompey and Caesar would send troops to restore him, in his way thither
desired to see Cato, to whom he sent, supposing he would come to him.
Cato had taken purging medicine at the time when the messenger came,
and made answer, that Ptolemy had better come to him, if he thought
fit. And when he came, he neither went forward to meet him, nor so much
as rose up to him, but saluting him as an ordinary person, bade him sit
down. This at once threw Ptolemy into some confusion, who was surprised
to see such stern and haughty manners in one who made so plain and
unpretending an appearance; but afterwards, when he began to talk about
his affairs, he was no less astonished at the wisdom and freedom of his
discourse. For Cato blamed his conduct, and pointed out to him what
honor and happiness he was abandoning, and what humiliations and
troubles he would run himself into; what bribery he must resort to and
what cupidity he would have to satisfy, when he came to the leading men
at Rome, whom all Egypt turned into silver would scarcely content. He
therefore advised him to return home, and be reconciled to his
subjects, offering to go along with him, and assist him in composing
the differences. And by this language Ptolemy being brought to himself,
as it might be out of a fit of madness or delirium and discerning the
truth and wisdom of what Cato said, resolved to follow his advice; but
he was again over-persuaded by his friends to the contrary, and so,
according to his first design, went to Rome. When he came there, and
was forced to wait at the gate of one of the magistrates, he began to
lament his folly, in having rejected, rather, as it seemed to him, the
oracle of a god, than the advice merely of a good and wise man.
In the meantime, the other Ptolemy, in Cyprus, very luckily for Cato,
poisoned himself. It was reported he had left great riches; therefore
Cato designing to go first to Byzantium, sent his nephew Brutus to
Cyprus, as he would not wholly trust Canidius. Then, having reconciled
the refugees and the people of Byzantium, he left the city in peace and
quietness; and so sailed to Cyprus, where he found a royal treasure of
plate, tables, precious stones and purple, all which was to be turned
into ready money. And being determined to do everything with the
greatest exactness, and to raise the price of everything to the utmost,
to this end he was always present at selling the things, and went
carefully into all the accounts. Nor would he trust to the usual
customs of the market, but looked doubtfully upon all alike, the
officers, criers, purchasers, and even his own friends; and so in fine
he himself talked with the buyers, and urged them to bid high, and
conducted in this manner the greatest part of the sales.
This mistrustfulness offended others of his friends, and, in
particular, Munatius, the most intimate of them all, became almost
irreconcilable. And this afforded Caesar the subject of his severest
censures in the book he wrote against Cato. Yet Munatius himself
relates, that the quarrel was not so much occasioned by Cato's
mistrust, as by his neglect of him, and by his own jealousy of
Canidius. For Munatius also wrote a book concerning Cato, which is the
chief authority followed by Thrasea. Munatius says, that coming to
Cyprus after the other, and having a very poor lodging provided for
him, he went to Cato's house, but was not admitted, because he was
engaged in private with Canidius; of which he afterwards complained in
very gentle terms to Cato, but received a very harsh answer, that too
much love, according to Theophrastus, often causes hatred; "and you,"
he said, "because you bear me much love, think you receive too little
honor, and presently grow angry. I employ Canidius on account of his
industry and his fidelity; he has been with me from the first, and I
have found him to be trusted." These things were said in private
between them two; but Cato afterwards told Canidius what had passed; on
being informed of which, Munatius would no more go to sup with him, and
when he was invited to give his counsel, refused to come. Then Cato
threatened to seize his goods, as was the custom in the case of those
who were disobedient; but Munatius not regarding his threats, returned
to Rome, and continued a long time thus discontented. But afterwards,
when Cato was come back also, Marcia, who as yet lived with him,
contrived to have them both invited to sup together at the house of one
Barca; Cato came in last of all, when the rest were laid down, and
asked, where he should be. Barca answered him, where he pleased; then
looking about, he said, he would be near Munatius, and went and placed
himself next to him; yet he showed him no other mark of kindness, all
the time they were at table together. But another time, at the entreaty
of Marcia, Cato wrote to Munatius, that he desired to speak with him.
Munatius went to his house in the morning, and was kept by Marcia till
all the company was gone; then Cato came, threw both his arms about
him, and embraced him very kindly, and they were reconciled. I have the
more fully related this passage, for that I think the manners and
tempers of men are more clearly discovered by things of this nature,
than by great and conspicuous actions.
Cato got together little less than seven thousand talents of silver;
but apprehensive of what might happen in so long a voyage by sea, he
provided a great many coffers, that held two talents and five hundred
drachmas apiece; to each of these he fastened a long rope, and to the
other end of the rope a piece of cork, so that if the ship should
miscarry, it might be discovered thereabout the chests lay under water.
Thus all the money, except a very little, was safely transported. But
he had made two books, in which all the accounts of his commission were
carefully written out, and neither of these was preserved. For his
freedman Philargyrus, who had the charge of one of them, setting sail
from Cenchreae was lost, together with the ship and all her freight.
And the other Cato himself kept safe, till he came to Corcyra, but
there he set up his tent in the market-place, and the sailors being
very cold in the night, made a great many fires, some of which caught
the tents, so that they were burnt, and the book lost. And though he
had brought with him several of Ptolemy's stewards, who could testify
to his integrity, and stop the mouths of enemies and false accusers,
yet the loss annoyed him, and he was vexed with himself about the
matter, as he had designed them not so much for a proof of his own
fidelity, as for a pattern of exactness to others.
The news did not fail to reach Rome, that he was coming up the river.
All the magistrates, the priests, and the whole senate, with great part
of the people, went out to meet him; both the banks of the Tiber were
covered with people; so that his entrance was in solemnity and honor
not inferior to a triumph. But it was thought somewhat strange, and
looked like willfulness and pride, that when the consuls and praetors
appeared, he did not disembark, nor stay to salute them, but rowed up
the stream in a royal galley of six banks of oars, and stopped not till
he brought his vessels to the dock. However, when the money was carried
through the streets, the people much wondered at the vast quantity of
it, and the senate being assembled, decreed him in honorable terms an
extraordinary praetorship, and also the privilege of appearing at the
public spectacles in a robe faced with purple. Cato declined all these
honors, but declaring what diligence and fidelity he had found in
Nicias, the steward of Ptolemy, he requested the senate to give him his
freedom.
Philippus, the father of Marcia, was that year consul, and the
authority and power of the office rested in a manner in Cato; for the
other consul paid him no less regard for his virtue's sake, than
Philippus did on account of the connection between them. And Cicero now
being returned from his banishment, into which he was driven by
Clodius, and having again obtained great credit among the people, went,
in the absence of Clodius, and by force took away the records of his
tribuneship, which had been laid up in the capitol. Hereupon the senate
was assembled, and Clodius complained of Cicero, who answered, that
Clodius was never legally tribune, and therefore whatever he had done,
was void, and of no authority. But Cato interrupted him while he spoke,
and at last standing up said, that indeed he in no way justified or
approved of Clodius's proceedings; but if they questioned the validity
of what had been done in his tribuneship, they might also question what
himself had done at Cyprus, for the expedition was unlawful, if he that
sent him had no lawful authority: for himself, he thought Clodius wee
legally made tribune, who, by permission of the law, was from a
patrician adopted into a plebeian family; if he had done ill in his
office, he ought to be called to account for it; but the authority of
the magistracy ought not to suffer for the faults of the magistrate.
Cicero took this ill, and for a long time discontinued his friendship
with Cato; but they were afterwards reconciled.
Pompey and Crassus, by agreement with Caesar, who crossed the Alps to
see them, had formed a design, that they two should stand to be chosen
consuls a second time, and when they should be in their office, they
would continue to Caesar his government for five years more, and take
to themselves the greatest provinces, with armies and money to maintain
them. This seemed a plain conspiracy to subvert the constitution and
parcel out the empire. Several men of high character had intended to
stand to be consuls that year, but upon the appearance of these great
competitors, they all desisted, except only Lucius Domitius, who had
married Porcia, the sister of Cato, and was by him persuaded to stand
it out, and not abandon such an undertaking, which, he said, was not
merely to gain the consulship, but to save the liberty of Rome. In the
meantime, it was the common topic among the more prudent part of the
citizens, that they ought not to suffer the power of Pompey and Crassus
to be united, which would then be carried beyond all bounds, and become
dangerous to the state; that therefore one of them must be denied. For
these reasons they took part with Domitius, whom they exhorted and
encouraged to go on, assuring him, that many who feared openly to
appear for him, would privately assist him. Pompey's party fearing
this, laid wait for Domitius, and set upon him as he was going before
daylight, with torches, into the Field. First he that bore the light
next before Domitius, was knocked down and killed; then several others
being wounded, all the rest fled, except Cato and Domitius, whom Cato
held, though himself were wounded in the arm, and crying out, conjured
the others to stay, and not while they had any breath, forsake the
defense of their liberty against those tyrants, who plainly showed with
what moderation they were likely to use the power, which they
endeavored to gain by such violence. But at length Domitius also, no
longer willing to face the danger, fled to his own house, and so Pompey
and Crassus were declared consuls.
Nevertheless, Cato would not give over, but resolved to stand himself
to be praetor that year, which he thought would be some help to him in
his design of opposing them; that he might not act as a private man,
when he was to contend with public magistrates. Pompey and Crassus
apprehended this; and fearing that the office of praetor in the person
of Cato might be equal in authority to that of consul, they assembled
the senate unexpectedly, without giving any notice to a great many of
the senators, and made an order, that those who were chosen praetors,
should immediately enter upon their office, without attending the usual
time, in which, according to law, they might be accused, if they had
corrupted the people with gifts. When by this order they had got leave
to bribe freely, without being called to account, they set up their own
friends and dependents to stand for the praetorship, giving money, and
watching the people as they voted. Yet the virtue and reputation of
Cato was like to triumph over all these stratagems; for the people
generally felt it to be shameful that a price should be paid for the
rejection of Cato, who ought rather to be paid himself to take upon him
the office. So he carried it by the voices of the first tribe. Hereupon
Pompey immediately framed a lie, crying out, it thundered; and straight
broke up the assembly; for the Romans religiously observed this as a
bad omen, and never concluded any matter after it had thundered. Before
the next time, they had distributed larger bribes, and driving also the
best men out of the Field, by these foul means they procured Vatinius
to be chosen praetor, instead of Cato. It is said, that those who had
thus corruptly and dishonestly given their voices, at once, when it was
done, hurried, as if it were in flight, out of the Field. The others
staying together, and exclaiming at the event, one of the tribunes
continued the assembly, and Cato standing up, as it were by
inspiration, foretold all the miseries that afterward befell the state,
exhorted them to beware of Pompey and Crassus, who were guilty of such
things, and had laid such designs, that they might well fear to have
Cato praetor. When he had ended this speech, he was followed to his
house by a greater number of people than were all the new praetors
elect put together.
Caius Trebonius now proposed the law for allotting provinces to the
consuls, one of whom was to have Spain and Africa, the other Egypt and
Syria, with full power of making war, and carrying it on both by sea
and land, as they should think fit. When this was proposed, all others
despaired of putting any stop to it, and neither did nor said anything
against it. But Cato, before the voting began, went up into the place
of speaking, and desiring to be heard, was with much difficulty allowed
two hours to speak. Having spent that time in informing them and
reasoning with them, and in foretelling to them much that was to come,
he was not suffered to speak any longer; but as he was going on, a
sergeant came and pulled him down; yet when he was down, he still
continued speaking in a loud voice, and finding many to listen to him,
and join in his indignation. Then the sergeant took him, and forced him
out of the forum; but as soon as he got loose, he returned again to the
place of speaking, crying out to the people to stand by him. When he
had done thus several times, Trebonius grew very angry, and commanded
him to be carried to prison; but the multitude followed him, and
listened to the speech which he made to them, as he went along, so that
Trebonius began to be afraid again, and ordered him to be released.
Thus that day was expended, and the business staved off by Cato. But in
the days succeeding, many of the citizens being overawed by fears and
threats, and others won by gifts and favors, Aquillius, one of the
tribunes, they kept by an armed force within the senate-house; Cato,
who cried, it thundered, they drove out of the forum; many were
wounded, and some slain; and at length by open force they passed the
law. At this many were so incensed, that they got together, and were
going to throw down the statues of Pompey; but Cato went, and diverted
them from that design.
Again, another law was proposed, concerning the provinces and legions
for Caesar. Upon this occasion Cato did not apply himself to the
people, but appealed to Pompey himself; and told him, he did not
consider now, that he was setting Caesar upon his own shoulders, who
would shortly grow too weighty for him, and at length, not able to lay
down the burden, nor yet to bear it any longer, he would precipitate
both it and himself with it upon the commonwealth; and then he would
remember Cato's advice, which was no less advantageous to him, than
just and honest in itself. Thus was Pompey often warned, but still
disregarded and slighted it, never mistrusting Caesar's change, and
always confiding in his own power and good fortune.
Cato was made praetor the following year; but, it seems, he did not do
more honor and credit to the office by his signal integrity, than he
disgraced and diminished it by his strange behavior. For he would often
come to the court without his shoes, and sit upon the bench without any
under garment, and in this attire would give judgment in capital
causes, and upon persons of the highest rank. It is said, also, he used
to drink wine after his morning meal, and then transact the business of
his office; but this was wrongfully reported of him. The people were at
that time extremely corrupted by the gifts of those who sought offices,
and most made a constant trade of selling their voices. Cato was eager
utterly to root this corruption out of the commonwealth; he therefore
persuaded the senate to make an order, that those who were chosen into
any office, though nobody should accuse them, should be obliged to come
into the court, and give account upon oath of their proceedings in
their election. This was extremely obnoxious to those who stood for the
offices, and yet more to those vast numbers who took the bribes.
Insomuch that one morning, as Cato was going to the tribunal, a great
multitude of people flocked together, and with loud cries and
maledictions reviled him, and threw stones at him. Those that were
about the tribunal presently fled, and Cato himself being forced
thence, and jostled about in the throng, very narrowly escaped the
stones that were thrown at him, and with much difficulty got hold of
the Rostra, where, standing up with a bold and undaunted countenance,
he at once mastered the tumult, and silenced the clamor; and addressing
them in fit terms for the occasion, was heard with great attention, and
perfectly quelled the sedition. Afterwards, on the senate commending
him for this, "But I," said he, "do not commend you for abandoning your
praetor in danger, and bringing him no assistance."
In the meantime, the candidates were in great perplexity; for every one
dreaded to give money himself, and yet feared lest his competitors
should. At length they agreed to lay down one hundred and twenty-five
thousand drachmas apiece, and then all of them to canvass fairly and
honestly, on condition, that if any one was found to make use of
bribery, he should forfeit the money. Being thus agreed, they chose
Cato to keep the stakes, and arbitrate the matter; to him they brought
the sum concluded on, and before him subscribed the agreement. The
money he did not choose to have paid for them, but took their
securities who stood bound for them. Upon the day of election, he
placed himself by the tribune who took the votes, and very watchfully
observing all that passed, he discovered one who had broken the
agreement, and immediately ordered him to pay his money to the rest.
They, however, commending his justice highly, remitted the penalty, as
thinking the discovery a sufficient punishment. It raised, however, as
much envy against Cato as it gained him reputation, and many were
offended at his thus taking upon himself the whole authority of the
senate, the courts of judicature, and the magistracies. For there is no
virtue, the honor and credit for which procures a man more odium than
that of justice; and this, because more than any other, it acquires a
man power and authority among the common people. For they only honor
the valiant and admire the wise, while in addition they also love just
men, and put entire trust and confidence in them. They fear the bold
man, and mistrust the clever man, and moreover think them rather
beholding; to their natural complexion, than to any goodness of their
will, for these excellences; they look upon valor as a certain natural
strength of the mind, and wisdom as a constitutional acuteness; whereas
a man has it in his power to be just, if he have but the will to be so,
and therefore injustice is thought the most dishonorable, because it is
least excusable.
Cato upon this account was opposed by all the great men, who thought
themselves reproved by his virtue. Pompey especially looked upon the
increase of Cato's credit, as the ruin of his own power, and therefore
continually set up men to rail against him. Among these was the
seditious Clodius, now again united to Pompey; who declared openly,
that Cato had conveyed away a great deal of the treasure that was found
in Cyprus; and that he hated Pompey, only because he refused to marry
his daughter. Cato answered, that although they had allowed him neither
horse nor man, he had brought more treasure from Cyprus alone, than
Pompey had, after so many wars and triumphs, from the ransacked world;
that he never sought the alliance of Pompey; not that he thought him
unworthy of being related to him, but because he differed so much from
him, in things that concerned the commonwealth. "For," said he, "I laid
down the province that was given me, when I went out of my praetorship;
Pompey, on the contrary, retains many provinces for himself; and he
bestows many on others; and but now he sent Caesar a force of six
thousand men into Gaul, which Caesar never asked the people for, nor
had Pompey obtained their consent to give. Men, and horse, and arms in
any number, are become the mutual gifts of private men to one another;
and Pompey keeping the titles of commander and general, hands over the
armies and provinces to others to govern, while he himself stays at
home to preside at the contests of the canvass, and to stir up tumults
at elections; out of the anarchy he thus creates amongst us, seeking,
we see well enough, a monarchy for himself." Thus he retorted on Pompey.
He had an intimate friend and admirer of the name of Marcus Favonius,
much the same to Cato as we are told Apollodorus, the Phalerian, was in
old time to Socrates, whose words used to throw him into perfect
transports and ecstasies, getting into his head, like strong wine, and
intoxicating him to a sort of frenzy. This Favonius stood to be chosen
aedile, and was like to lose it; but Cato, who was there to assist him,
observed that all the votes were written in one hand, and discovering
the cheat, appealed to the tribunes, who stopped the election. Favonius
was afterward chosen aedile, and Cato, who assisted him in all things
that belonged to his office, also undertook the care of the spectacles
that were exhibited in the theater; giving the actors crowns, not of
gold, but of wild olive, such as used to be given at the Olympic games;
and instead of the magnificent presents that were usually made, he
offered to the Greeks beet root, lettuces, radishes, and pears; and to
the Romans, earthen pots of wine, pork, figs, cucumbers, and little
fagots of wood. Some ridiculed Cato for his economy, others looked with
respect on this gentle relaxation of his usual rigor and austerity. In
fine, Favonius himself mingled with the crowd, and sitting among the
spectators, clapped and applauded Cato, bade him bestow rewards on
those who did well, and called on the people to pay their honors to
him, as for himself he had placed his whole authority in Cato's hands.
At the same time, Curio, the colleague of Favonius, gave very
magnificent entertainments in another theater; but the people left his,
and went to those of Favonius, which they much applauded, and joined
heartily in the diversion, seeing him act the private man, and Cato the
master of the shows, who, in fact, did all this in derision of the
great expenses that others incurred, and to teach them that in
amusements men ought to seek amusement only, and the display of a
decent cheerfulness, not great preparations and costly magnificence,
demanding the expenditure of endless care and trouble about things of
little concern.
After this Scipio, Hypsaeus, and Milo, stood to be consuls, and that
not only with the usual and now recognized disorders of bribery and
corruption, but with arms and slaughter, and every appearance of
carrying their audacity and desperation to the length of actual civil
war. Whereupon it was proposed, that Pompey might be empowered to
preside over that election. This Cato at first opposed, saying that the
laws ought not to seek protection from Pompey, but Pompey from the
laws. Yet the confusion lasting a long time, the forum continually, as
it were, besieged with three armies, and no possibility appearing of a
stop being put to these disorders, Cato at length agreed, that rather
than fall into the last extremity, the senate should freely confer all
on Pompey, since it was necessary to make use of a lesser illegality as
a remedy against the greatest of all, and better to set up a monarchy
themselves, than to suffer a sedition to continue, that must certainly
end in one. Bibulus, therefore, a friend of Cato's, moved the senate to
create Pompey sole consul; for that either he would reestablish the
lawful government, or they should serve under the best master. Cato
stood up, and, contrary to all expectation, seconded this motion,
concluding, that any government was better than mere confusion, and
that he did not question but Pompey would deal honorably, and take care
of the commonwealth, thus committed to his charge. Pompey being
hereupon declared consul, invited Cato to see him in the suburbs. When
he came, he saluted and embraced him very kindly, acknowledged the
favor he had done him, and desired his counsel and assistance, in the
management of this office. Cato made answer, that what he had spoken on
any former occasion was not out of hate to Pompey, nor what he had now
done, out of love to him, but all for the good of the commonwealth;
that in private, if he asked him, he would freely give his advice; and
in public, though he asked him not, he would always speak his opinion.
And he did accordingly. For first, when Pompey made severe laws for
punishing and laying great fines on those who had corrupted the people
with gifts, Cato advised him to let alone what was already passed, and
to provide for the future; for if he should look up past misdemeanors,
it would be difficult to know where to stop; and if he would ordain new
penalties, it would be unreasonable to punish men by a law, which at
that time they had not the opportunity of breaking. Afterwards, when
many considerable men, and some of Pompey's own relations were accused,
and he grew remiss, and disinclined to the prosecution, Cato sharply
reproved him, and urged him to proceed. Pompey had made a law, also, to
forbid the custom of making commendatory orations in behalf of those
that were accused; yet he himself wrote one for Munatius Plancus, and
sent it while the cause was pleading; upon which Cato, who was sitting
as one of the judges, stopped his ears with his hands, and would not
hear it read. Whereupon Plancus, before sentence was given, excepted
against him, but was condemned notwithstanding. And indeed Cato was a
great trouble and perplexity to almost all that were accused of
anything, as they feared to have him one of their judges, yet did not
dare to demand his exclusion. And many had been condemned, because by
refusing him, they seemed to show that they could not trust their own
innocence; and it was a reproach thrown in the teeth of some by their
enemies, that they had not accepted Cato for their judge.
In the meanwhile, Caesar kept close with his forces in Gaul, and
continued in arms; and at the same time employed his gifts, his riches,
and his friends above all things, to increase his power in the city.
And now Cato's old admonitions began to rouse Pompey out of the
negligent security in which he lay, into a sort of imagination of
danger at hand; but seeing him slow and unwilling, and timorous to
undertake any measures of prevention against Caesar, Cato resolved
himself to stand for the consulship, and presently force Caesar either
to lay down his arms or discover his intentions. Both Cato's
competitors were persons of good position; Sulpicius, who was one, owed
much to Cato's credit and authority in the city, and it was thought
unhandsome and ungratefully done, to stand against him; not that Cato
himself took it ill, "For it is no wonder," said he, "if a man will not
yield to another, in that which he esteems the greatest good." He had
persuaded the senate to make an order, that those who stood for
offices, should themselves ask the people for their votes, and not
solicit by others, nor take others about with them, to speak for them,
in their canvass. And this made the common people very hostile to him,
if they were to lose not only the means of receiving money, but also
the opportunity of obliging several persons, and so to become by his
means both poor and less regarded. Besides this, Cato himself was by
nature altogether unfit for the business of canvassing, as he was more
anxious to sustain the dignity of his life and character, than to
obtain the office. Thus by following his own way of soliciting, and not
suffering his friends to do those things which take with the multitude,
he was rejected, and lost the consulship.
But whereas, upon such occasions, not only those who missed the office,
but even their friends and relations, used to feel themselves disgraced
and humiliated, and observed a sort of mourning for several days after,
Cato took it so unconcernedly, that he anointed himself, and played at
ball in the Field, and after breakfasting, went into the forum, as he
used to do, without his shoes or his tunic, and there walked about with
his acquaintance. Cicero blames him, for that when affairs required
such a consul, he would not take more pains, nor condescend to pay some
court to the people, as also because that he afterwards neglected to
try again; whereas he had stood a second time to be chosen praetor.
Cato answered, that he lost the praetorship the first time, not by the
voice of the people, but by the violence and corrupt dealing of his
adversaries; whereas in the election of consuls, there had been no foul
play. So that he plainly saw the people did not like his manners, which
an honest man ought not to alter for their sake; nor yet would a wise
man attempt the same thing again, while liable to the same prejudices.
Caesar was at this time engaged with many warlike nations, and was
subduing them at great hazards. Among the rest, it was believed he had
set upon the Germans, in a time of truce, and had thus slain three
hundred thousand of them. Upon which, some of his friends moved the
senate for a public thanksgiving; but Cato declared, they ought to
deliver Caesar into the hands of those who had been thus unjustly
treated, and so expiate the offense and not bring a curse upon the
city; "Yet we have reason," said he, "to thank the gods, for that they
spared the commonwealth, and did not take vengeance upon the army, for
the madness and folly of the general." Hereupon Caesar wrote a letter
to the senate, which was read openly, and was full of reproachful
language and accusations against Cato; who, standing up, seemed not at
all concerned, and without any heat or passion, but in a calm and, as
it were, premeditated discourse, made all Caesar's charges against him
show like mere common scolding and abuse, and in fact a sort of
pleasantry and play on Caesar's part; and proceeding then to go into
all Caesar's political courses, and to explain and reveal (as though he
had been not his constant opponent, but his fellow-conspirator,) his
whole conduct and purpose from its commencement, he concluded by
telling the senate, it was not the sons of the Britons or the Gauls
they need fear, but Caesar himself, if they were wise. And this
discourse so moved and awakened the senate, that Caesar's friends
repented they had had a letter read, which had given Cato an
opportunity of saying so many reasonable things, and such severe truths
against him. However, nothing was then decided upon; it was merely
said, that it would be well to send him a successor. Upon that Caesar's
friends required, that Pompey also should lay down his arms, and resign
his provinces, or else that Caesar might not be obliged to either. Then
Cato cried out, what he had foretold was come to pass; now it was
manifest he was using his forces to compel their judgment, and was
turning against the state those armies he had got from it by imposture
and trickery. But out of the Senate-house Cato could do but little, as
the people were ever ready to magnify Caesar and the senate, though
convinced by Cato, were afraid of the people.
But when the news was brought that Caesar had seized Ariminum, and was
marching with his army toward Rome, then all men, even Pompey, and the
common people too, cast their eyes on Cato, who had alone foreseen and
first clearly declared Caesar's intentions. He, therefore, told them,
"If you had believed me, or regarded my advice, you would not now have
been reduced to stand in fear of one man, or to put all your hopes in
one alone." Pompey acknowledged, that Cato indeed had spoken most like
a prophet, while he himself had acted too much like a friend. And Cato
advised the senate to put all into the hands of Pompey; "For those who
can raise up great evils," said he, "can best allay them."
Pompey, finding he had not sufficient forces, and that those he could
raise, were not very resolute, forsook the city. Cato, resolving to
follow Pompey into exile, sent his younger son to Munatius, who was
then in the country of Bruttium, and took his eldest with him; but
wanting somebody to keep his house and take care of his daughters, he
took Marcia again, who was now a rich widow, Hortensius being dead, and
having left her all his estate. Caesar afterward made use of this
action also, to reproach him with covetousness, and a mercenary design
in his marriage. "For," said he, "if he had need of wife, why did he
part with her? And if he had not, why did he take her again? Unless he
gave her only as a bait to Hortensius; and lent her when she was young,
to have her again when she was rich." But in answer to this, we might
fairly apply the saying of Euripides.
To speak of mysteries -- the chief of these Surely were cowardice in
Hercules.
For it is much the same thing to reproach Hercules for cowardice, and
to accuse Cato of covetousness; though otherwise, whether he did
altogether right in this marriage, might be disputed. As soon, however,
as he had again taken Marcia, he committed his house and his daughters
to her, and himself followed Pompey. And it is said, that from that day
he never cut his hair, nor shaved his beard, nor wore a garland, but
was always full of sadness, grief, and dejectedness for the calamities
of his country, and continually showed the same feeling to the last,
whatever party had misfortune or success.
The government of Sicily being allotted to him, he passed over to
Syracuse; where understanding that Asinius Pollio was arrived at
Messena, with forces from the enemy, Cato sent to him, to know the
reason of his coming thither: Pollio, on the other side, called upon
him to show reason for the present convulsions. And being at the same
time informed how Pompey had quite abandoned Italy, and lay encamped at
Dyrrhachium, he spoke of the strangeness and incomprehensibility of the
divine government of things; "Pompey, when he did nothing wisely nor
honestly, was always successful; and now that he would preserve his
country, and defend her liberty, he is altogether unfortunate." As for
Asinius, he said, he could drive him out of Sicily, but as there were
larger forces coming to his assistance, he would not engage the island
in a war. He therefore advised the Syracusans to join the conquering
party and provide for their own safety; and so set sail from thence.
When he came to Pompey, he uniformly gave advice to protract the war;
as he always hoped to compose matters, and was by no means desirous
that they should come to action; for the commonwealth would suffer
extremely, and be the certain cause of its own ruin, whoever were
conqueror by the sword. In like manner, he persuaded Pompey and the
council to ordain, that no city should be sacked that was subject to
the people of Rome; and that no Roman should be killed, but in the heat
of battle; and hereby he got himself great honor, and brought over many
to Pompey's party, whom his moderation and humanity attracted.
Afterwards being sent into Asia, to assist those who were raising men,
and preparing ships in those parts, he took with him his sister
Servilia, and a little boy whom she had by Lucullus. For since her
widowhood, she had lived with her brother, and much recovered her
reputation, having put herself under his care, followed him in his
voyages, and complied with his severe way of living. Yet Caesar did not
fail to asperse him upon her account also.
Pompey's officers in Asia, it seems, had no great need of Cato; but he
brought over the people of Rhodes by his persuasions, and leaving his
sister Servilia and her child there, he returned to Pompey, who had now
collected very great forces both by sea and land. And here Pompey, more
than in any other act, betrayed his intentions. For at first he
designed to give Cato the command of the navy, which consisted of no
less than five hundred ships of war, besides a vast number of light
galleys, scouts, and open boats. But presently bethinking himself, or
put in mind by his friends, that Cato's principal and only aim being to
free his country from all usurpation, if he were master of such great
forces, as soon as ever Caesar should be conquered, he would certainly
call upon Pompey, also, to lay down his arms, and be subject to the
laws, he changed his mind, and though he had already mentioned it to
Cato, nevertheless made Bibulus admiral. Notwithstanding this, he had
no reason to suppose that Cato's zeal in the cause was in any way
diminished. For before one of the battles at Dyrrhachium, when Pompey
himself, we are told, made an address to the soldiers and bade the
officers do the like, the men listened to them but coldly, and with
silence, until Cato, last of all, came forward, and in the language of
philosophy, spoke to them, as the occasion required, concerning
liberty, manly virtue, death, and a good name; upon all which he
delivered himself with strong natural passion, and concluded with
calling in the aid of the gods, to whom he directed his speech, as if
they were present to behold them fight for their country. And at this
the army gave such a shout and showed such excitement, that their
officers led them on full of hope and confidence to the danger.
Caesar's party were routed, and put to flight; but his presiding
fortune used the advantage of Pompey's cautiousness and diffidence, to
render the victory incomplete. But of this we have spoken in the life
of Pompey. While, however, all the rest rejoiced, and magnified their
success, Cato alone bewailed his country, and cursed that fatal
ambition, which made so many brave Romans murder one another.
After this, Pompey following Caesar into Thessaly, left at Dyrrhachium
a quantity of munitions, money, and stores, and many of his domestics
and relations; the charge of all which he gave to Cato, with the
command only of fifteen cohorts. For though he trusted him much, yet he
was afraid of him too, knowing full well, that if he had bad success,
Cato would be the last to forsake him, but if he conquered, would never
let him use his victory at his pleasure. There were, likewise, many
persons of high rank that stayed with Cato at Dyrrhachium. When they
heard of the overthrow at Pharsalia, Cato resolved with himself, that
if Pompey were slain, he would conduct those that were with him into
Italy, and then retire as far from the tyranny of Caesar as he could,
and live in exile; but if Pompey were safe, he would keep the army
together for him. With this resolution he passed over to Corcyra, where
the navy lay, there he would have resigned his command to Cicero,
because he had been consul, and himself only a praetor: but Cicero
refused it, and was going for Italy. At which Pompey's son being
incensed, would rashly and in heat have punished all those who were
going away, and in the first place have laid hands on Cicero; but Cato
spoke with him in private, and diverted him from that design. And thus
he clearly saved the life of Cicero, and rescued several others also
from ill-treatment.
Conjecturing that Pompey the Great was fled toward Egypt or Africa,
Cato resolved to hasten after him; and having taken all his men aboard,
he set sail; but first to those who were not zealous to continue the
contest, he gave free liberty to depart. When they came to the coast of
Africa, they met with Sextus, Pompey's younger son, who told them of
the death of his father in Egypt; at which they were all exceedingly
grieved, and declared that after Pompey they would follow no other
leader but Cato. Out of compassion therefore to so many worthy persons,
who had given such testimonies of their fidelity, and whom he could not
for shame leave in a desert country, amidst so many difficulties, he
took upon him the command, and marched toward the city of Cyrene, which
presently received him, though not long before they had shut their
gates against Labienus. Here he was informed that Scipio, Pompey's
father-in-law, was received by king Juba, and that Attius Varus, whom
Pompey had made governor of Africa, had joined them with his forces.
Cato therefore resolved to march toward them by land, it being now
winter; and got together a number of asses to carry water, and
furnished himself likewise with plenty of all other provision, and a
number of carriages. He took also with him some of those they call
Psylli, who cure the biting of serpents, by sucking out the poison with
their mouths, and have likewise certain charms, by which they stupefy
and lay asleep the serpents.
Thus they marched seven days together, Cato all the time going on foot
at the head of his men, and never making use of any horse or chariot.
Ever since the battle of Pharsalia, he used to sit at table, and added
this to his other ways of mourning, that he never lay down but to sleep.
Having passed the winter in Africa, Cato drew out his army, which
amounted to little less than ten thousand. The affairs of Scipio and
Varus went very ill, by reason of their dissensions and quarrels among
themselves, and their submissions and flatteries to king Juba, who was
insupportable for his vanity, and the pride he took in his strength and
riches. The first time he came to a conference with Cato, he had
ordered his own seat to be placed in the middle, between Scipio and
Cato; which Cato observing, took up his chair, and set himself on the
other side of Scipio, to whom he thus gave the honor of sitting in the
middle, though he were his enemy, and had formerly published some
scandalous writing against him. There are people who speak as if this
were quite an insignificant matter, and who nevertheless find fault
with Cato, because in Sicily, walking one day with Philostratus, he
gave him the middle place, to show his respect for philosophy. However,
he now succeeded both in humbling the pride of Juba, who was treating
Scipio and Varus much like a pair of satraps under his orders, and also
in reconciling them to each other. All the troops desired him to be
their leader; Scipio, likewise, and Varus gave way to it, and offered
him the command; but he said, he would not break those laws, which he
sought to defend, and he, being, but propraetor, ought not to command
in the presence of a proconsul, (for Scipio had been created
proconsul,) besides that people took it as a good omen; to see a Scipio
command in Africa, and the very name inspired the soldiers with hopes
of success.
Scipio, having taken upon him the command, presently resolved, at the
instigation of Juba, to put all the inhabitants of Utica to the sword,
and to raze the city, for having, as they professed, taken part with
Caesar. Cato would by no means suffer this; but invoking the gods,
exclaiming and protesting against it in the council of war, he with
much difficulty delivered the poor people from this cruelty. And
afterwards, upon the entreaty of the inhabitants, and at the instance
of Scipio, Cato took upon himself the government of Utica, lest, one
way or other, it should fall into Caesar's hands; for it was a strong
place, and very advantageous for either party. And it was yet better
provided and more strongly fortified by Cato, who brought in great
store of corn, repaired the walls, erected towers, and made deep
trenches and palisades around the town. The young men of Utica he
lodged among these works, having first taken their arms from them; the
rest of the inhabitants he kept within the town, and took the greatest
care, that no injury should be done nor affront offered them by the
Romans. From hence he sent great quantity of arms, money, and provision
to the camp, and made this city their chief magazine.
He advised Scipio, as he had before done Pompey, by no means to hazard
a battle against a man experienced in war, and formidable in the field,
but to use delay; for time would gradually abate the violence of the
crisis, which is the strength of usurpation. But Scipio out of pride
rejected this counsel, and wrote a letter to Cato, in which he
reproached him with cowardice; and that he could not be content to lie
secure himself within walls and trenches, but he must hinder others
from boldly using their own good-sense to seize the right opportunity.
In answer to this, Cato wrote word again, that he would take the horse
and foot which he had brought into Africa, and go over into Italy, to
make a diversion there, and draw Caesar off from them. But Scipio
derided this proposition also. Then Cato openly let it be seen that he
was sorry he had yielded the command to Scipio, who he saw would not
carry on the war with any wisdom, and if, contrary to all appearance,
he should succeed, he would use his success as unjustly at home. For
Cato had then made up his mind, and so he told his friends, that he
could have but slender hopes in those generals that had so much
boldness, and so little conduct; yet if anything should happen beyond
expectation, and Caesar should be overthrown, for his part he would not
stay at Rome, but would retire from the cruelty and inhumanity of
Scipio, who had already uttered fierce and proud threats against many.
But what Cato had looked for, fell out sooner than he expected. Late in
the evening came one from the army, whence he had been three days
coming, who brought word there had been a great battle near Thapsus;
that all was utterly lost; Caesar had taken the camps, Scipio and Juba
were fled with a few only, and all the rest of the army was lost. This
news arriving in time of war, and in the night, so alarmed the people,
that they were almost out of their wits, and could scarce keep
themselves within the walls of the city. But Cato came forward, and
meeting the people in this hurry and clamor, did all he could to
comfort and encourage them, and somewhat appeased the fear and
amazement they were in, telling them that very likely things were not
so bad in truth, but much exaggerated in the report. And so he pacified
the tumult for the present. The next morning, he sent for the three
hundred, whom he used as his council; these were Romans, who were in
Africa upon business, in commerce and money-lending; there were also
several senators and their sons. They were summoned to meet in the
temple of Jupiter. While they were coming together, Cato walked about
very quietly and unconcerned, as if nothing new had happened. He had a
book in his hand, which he was reading; in this book was an account of
what provision he had for war, armor, corn, ammunition and soldiers.
When they were assembled, he began his discourse; first, as regarded
the three hundred themselves, and very much commended the courage and
fidelity they had shown, and their having very well served their
country with their persons, money, and counsel. Then he entreated them
by no means to separate, as if each single man could hope for any
safety in forsaking his companions; on the contrary, while they kept
together, Caesar would have less reason to despise them, if they fought
against him, and be more forward to pardon them, if they submitted to
him. Therefore, he advised them to consult among themselves, nor should
he find fault, whichever course they adopted. If they thought fit to
submit to fortune, he would impute their change to necessity; but if
they resolved to stand firm, and undertake the danger for the sake of
liberty, he should not only commend, but admire their courage, and
would himself be their leader and companion too, till they had put to
the proof the utmost fortune of their country; which was not Utica or
Adrumetum, but Rome, and she had often, by her own greatness, raised
herself after worse disasters. Besides, as there were many things that
would conduce to their safety, so chiefly this, that they were to fight
against one whose affairs urgently claimed his presence in various
quarters. Spain was already revolted to the younger Pompey; Rome was
unaccustomed to the bridle, and impatient of it, and would therefore be
ready to rise in insurrection upon any turn of affairs. As for
themselves, they ought not to shrink from the danger; and in this might
take example from their enemy, who so freely exposes his life to effect
the most unrighteous designs, yet never can hope for so happy a
conclusion, as they may promise themselves; for notwithstanding the
uncertainty of war, they will be sure of a most happy life, if they
succeed, or a most glorious death, if they miscarry. However, he said,
they ought to deliberate among themselves, and he joined with them in
praying the gods that in recompense of their former courage and
goodwill, they would prosper their present determinations. When Cato
had thus spoken, many were moved and encouraged by his arguments, but
the greatest part were so animated by the sense of his intrepidity,
generosity, and goodness, that they forgot the present danger, and as
if he were the only invincible leader, and above all fortune, they
entreated him to employ their persons, arms, and estates, as he thought
fit; for they esteemed it far better to meet death in following his
counsel, than to find their safety in betraying one of so great virtue.
One of the assembly proposed the making a decree, to set the slaves at
liberty; and most of the rest approved the motion. Cato said, that it
ought not to be done, for it was neither just nor lawful; but if any of
their masters would willingly set them free, those that were fit for
service should be received. Many promised so to do; whose names he
ordered to be enrolled, and then withdrew.
Presently after this, he received letters from Juba and Scipio. Juba,
with some few of his men, was retired to a mountain, where he waited to
hear what Cato would resolve upon; and intended to stay there for him,
if he thought fit to leave Utica, or to come to his aid with his
troops, if he were besieged. Scipio was on shipboard, near a certain
promontory, not far from Utica, expecting an answer upon the same
account. But Cato thought fit to retain the messengers, till the three
hundred should come to some resolution.
As for the senators that were there, they showed great forwardness, and
at once set free their slaves, and furnished them with arms. But the
three hundred being men occupied in merchandise and money-lending, much
of their substance also consisting in slaves, the enthusiasm that
Cato's speech had raised in them, did not long continue. As there are
substances that easily admit heat, and as suddenly lose it, when the
fire is removed, so these men were heated and inflamed, while Cato was
present; but when they began to reason among themselves, the fear they
had of Caesar, soon overcame their reverence for Cato and for virtue.
"For who are we," said they, "and who is it we refuse to obey? Is it
not that Caesar, who is now invested with all the power of Rome? and
which of us is a Scipio, a Pompey, or a Cato? But now that all men make
their honor give way to their fear, shall we alone engage for the
liberty of Rome, and in Utica declare war against him, before whom Cato
and Pompey the Great fled out of Italy? Shall we set free our slaves
against Caesar, who have ourselves no more liberty than he is pleased
to allow? No, let us, poor creatures, know ourselves, submit to the
victor, and send deputies to implore his mercy." Thus said the most
moderate of them; but the greatest part were for seizing the senators,
that by securing them, they might appease Caesar's anger. Cato, though
he perceived the change, took no notice of it; but wrote to Juba and
Scipio to keep away from Utica, because he mistrusted the three hundred.
A considerable body of horse, which had escaped from the late fight,
riding up towards Utica, sent three men before to Cato, who yet did not
all bring the same message; for one party was for going to Juba,
another for joining with Cato, and some again were afraid to go into
Utica. When Cato heard this, he ordered Marcus Rubrius to attend upon
the three hundred, and quietly take the names of those who of their own
accord set their slaves at liberty, but by no means to force anybody.
Then, taking with him the senators, he went out of the town, and met
the principal officers of these horsemen, whom he entreated not to
abandon so many Roman senators, nor to prefer Juba for their commander
before Cato, but consult the common safety, and to come into the city,
which was impregnable, and well furnished with corn and other
provision, sufficient for many years. The senators, likewise, with
tears besought them to stay. Hereupon the officers went to consult
their soldiers, and Cato with the senators sat down upon an embankment,
expecting their resolution. In the meantime comes Rubrius in great
disorder, crying out, the three hundred were all in commotion, and
exciting revolt and tumult in the city. At this all the rest fell into
despair, lamenting and bewailing their condition. Cato endeavored to
comfort them, and sent to the three hundred, desiring them to have
patience. Then the officers of the horse returned with no very
reasonable demands. They said, they did not desire to serve Juba, for
his pay, nor should they fear Caesar, while they followed Cato, but
they dreaded to be shut up with the Uticans, men of traitorous temper,
and Carthaginian blood; for though they were quiet at present, yet as
soon as Caesar should appear, without doubt they would conspire
together, and betray the Romans. Therefore, if he expected they should
join with him, he must drive out of the town or destroy all the
Uticans, that he might receive them into a place clear both of enemies
and barbarians. This Cato thought utterly cruel and barbarous; but he
mildly answered, he would consult the three hundred.
Then he returned to the city, where he found the men, not framing
excuses, or dissembling out of reverence to him, but openly declaring
that no one should compel them to make war against Caesar; which, they
said, they were neither able nor willing to do. And some there were who
muttered words about retaining the senators till Caesar's coming; but
Cato seemed not to hear this, as indeed he had the excuse of being a
little deaf. At the same time came one to him, and told him the horse
were going away. And now, fearing lest the three hundred should take
some desperate resolution concerning the senators, he presently went
out with some of his friends, and seeing they were gone some way, he
took horse, and rode after them. They, when they saw him coming, were
very glad, and received him very kindly, entreating him to save himself
with them. At this time, it is said, Cato shed tears, while entreating
them on behalf of the senators, and stretching out his hands in
supplication. He turned some of their horses' heads, and laid hold of
the men by their armor, till in fine he prevailed with them, out of
compassion, to stay only that one day, to procure a safe retreat for
the senators. Having thus persuaded them to go along with him, some he
placed at the gates of the town, and to others gave the charge of the
citadel. The three hundred began to fear they should suffer for their
inconstancy, and sent to Cato, entreating him by all means to come to
them; but the senators flocking about him, would not suffer him to go,
and said they would not trust their guardian and savior to the hands of
perfidious traitors.
For there had never, perhaps, been a time when Cato's virtue appeared
more manifestly; and every class of men in Utica could clearly see,
with sorrow and admiration, how entirely free was everything that he
was doing from any secret motives or any mixture of self-regard; he,
namely, who had long before resolved on his own death, was taking such
extreme pains, toil, and care, only for the sake of others, that when
he had secured their lives, he might put an end to his own. For it was
easily perceived, that he had determined to die, though he did not let
it appear.
Therefore, having pacified the senators, he complied with the request
of the three hundred, and went to them alone without any attendance.
They gave him many thanks, and entreated him to employ and trust them
for the future; and if they were not Catos, and could not aspire to his
greatness of mind, they begged he would pity their weakness; and told
him, they had determined to send to Caesar and entreat him, chiefly and
in the first place, for Cato, and if they could not prevail for him,
they would not accept of pardon for themselves, but as long as they had
breath, would fight in his defense. Cato commended their good
intentions, and advised them to send speedily, for their own safety,
but by no means to ask anything in his behalf; for those who are
conquered, entreat, and those who have done wrong, beg pardon; for
himself, he did not confess to any defeat in all his life, but rather,
so far as he had thought fit, he had got the victory, and had conquered
Caesar in all points of justice and honesty. It was Caesar that ought
to be looked upon as one surprised and vanquished; for he was now
convicted and found guilty of those designs against his country, which
he had so long practiced and so constantly denied. When he had thus
spoken, he went out of the assembly, and being informed that Caesar was
coming with his whole army, "Ah," said he, "he expects to find us brave
men." Then he went to the senators, and urged them to make no delay,
but hasten to be gone, while the horsemen were yet in the city. So
ordering all the gates to be shut, except one towards the sea, he
assigned their several ships to those that were to depart, and gave
money and provision to those that wanted; all which he did with great
order and exactness, taking care to suppress all tumults, and that no
wrong should be done to the people.
Marcus Octavius, coming with two legions, now encamped near Utica, and
sent to Cato, to arrange about the chief command. Cato returned him no
answer; but said to his friends, "Can we wonder all has gone ill with
us, when our love of office survives even in our very ruin?" In the
meantime, word was brought him, that the horse were going away, and
were beginning to spoil and plunder the citizens. Cato ran to them, and
from the first he met, snatched what they had taken; the rest threw
down all they had gotten, and went away silent, and ashamed of what
they had done. Then he called together all the people of Utica, and
requested them upon the behalf of the three hundred, not to exasperate
Caesar against them, but all to seek their common safety together with
them. After that, he went again to the port, to see those who were
about to embark; and there he embraced and dismissed those of his
friends and acquaintance whom he had persuaded to go. As for his son,
he did not counsel him to be gone, nor did he think fit to persuade him
to forsake his father. But there was one Statyllius, a young man, in
the flower of his age, of a brave spirit, and very desirous to imitate
the constancy of Cato. Cato entreated him to go away, as he was a noted
enemy to Caesar, but without success. Then Cato looked at Apollonides,
the stoic philosopher, and Demetrius, the peripatetic; "It belongs to
you," said he, "to cool the fever of this young man's spirit, and to
make him know what is good for him." And thus, in setting his friends
upon their way, and in dispatching the business of any that applied to
him, he spent that night, and the greatest part of the next day.
Lucius Caesar, a kinsman of Caesar's, being appointed to go deputy for
the three hundred, came to Cato, and desired he would assist him to
prepare a persuasive speech for them; "And as to you yourself," said
he, "it will be an honor for me to kiss the hands and fall at the knees
of Caesar, in your behalf." But Cato would by no means permit him to do
any such thing; "For as to myself," said he, "if I would be preserved
by Caesar's favor, I should myself go to him; but I would not be
beholden to a tyrant, for his acts of tyranny. For it is but usurpation
in him to save, as their rightful lord, the lives of men over whom he
has no title to reign. But if you please, let us consider what you had
best say for the three hundred." And when they had continued some time
together, as Lucius was going away, Cato recommended to him his son,
and the rest of his friends; and taking him by the hand, bade him
farewell.
Then he retired to his house again, and called together his son and his
friends, to whom he conversed on various subjects; among the rest, he
forbade his son to engage himself in the affairs of state. For to act
therein as became him, was now impossible; and to do otherwise, would
be dishonorable. Toward evening he went into his bath. As he was
bathing, he remembered Statyllius, and called out aloud, "Apollonides,
have you tamed the high spirit of Statyllius, and is he gone without
bidding us farewell?" "No," said Apollonides, "I have said much to him,
but to little purpose; he is still resolute and unalterable, and
declares he is determined to follow your example." At this, it is said,
Cato smiled, and answered, "That will soon be tried."
After he had bathed, he went to supper, with a great deal of company;
at which he sat up, as he had always used to do ever since the battle
of Pharsalia; for since that time he never lay down, but when he went
to sleep. There supped with him all his own friends and the magistrates
of Utica.
After supper, the wine produced a great deal of lively and agreeable
discourse, and a whole series of philosophical questions was discussed.
At length they came to the strange dogmas of the stoics, called their
Paradoxes; and to this in particular, That the good man only is free,
and that all wicked men are slaves. The peripatetic, as was to be
expected, opposing this, Cato fell upon him very warmly; and somewhat
raising his voice, he argued the matter at great length, and urged the
point with such vehemence, that it was apparent to everybody, he was
resolved to put an end to his life, and set himself at liberty. And so,
when he had done speaking, there was a great silence, and evident
dejection. Cato, therefore, to divert them from any suspicion of his
design, turned the conversation, and began again to talk of matters of
present interest and expectation, showing great concern for those that
were at sea, as also for the others, who, traveling by land, were to
pass through a dry and barbarous desert.
When the company was broke up, he walked with his friends, as he used
to do after supper, gave the necessary orders to the officers of the
watch, and going into his chamber, he embraced his son and every one of
his friends with more than usual warmth, which again renewed their
suspicion of his design. Then laying himself down, he took into his
hand Plato's dialogue concerning the soul. Having read more than half
the book, he looked up, and missing his sword, which his son had taken
away while he was at supper, he called his servant, and asked, who had
taken away his sword. The servant making no answer, he fell to reading
again; and a little after, not seeming importunate, or hasty for it,
but as if he would only know what was become of it, he bade it be
brought. But having waited some time, when he had read through the
book, and still nobody brought the sword, he called up all his
servants, and in a louder tone demanded his sword. To one of them he
gave such a blow in the mouth, that he hurt his own hand; and now grew
more angry, exclaiming that he was betrayed and delivered naked to the
enemy by his son and his servants. Then his son, with the rest of his
friends, came running, into the room, and falling at his feet, began to
lament and beseech him. But Cato raising up himself, and looking
fiercely, "When," said he, "and how did I become deranged, and out of
my senses, that thus no one tries to persuade me by reason, or show me
what is better, if I am supposed to be ill-advised? Must I be disarmed,
and hindered from using my own reason? And you, young man, why do not
you bind your father's hands behind him, that when Caesar comes, he may
find me unable to defend myself? To dispatch myself I want no sword; I
need but hold my breath awhile, or strike my head against the wall."
When he had thus spoken, his son went weeping out of the chamber, and
with him all the rest, except Demetrius and Apollollides, to whom,
being left alone with him, he began to speak more calmly. "And you,"
said he, "do you also think to keep a man of my age alive by force, and
to sit here and silently watch me? Or do you bring me some reasons to
prove, that it will not be base and unworthy for Cato, when he can find
his safety no other way, to seek it from his enemy? If so, adduce your
arguments, and show cause why we should now unlearn what we formerly
were taught, in order that rejecting all the convictions in which we
lived, we may now by Caesar's help grow wiser, and be yet more obliged
to him, than for life only. Not that I have determined aught concerning
myself, but I would have it in my power to perform what I shall think
fit to resolve; and I shall not fail to take you as my advisers, in
holding counsel, as I shall do, with the doctrines which your
philosophy teaches; in the meantime, do not trouble yourselves; but go
tell my son, that he should not compel his father to what he cannot
persuade him to." They made him no answer, but went weeping out of the
chamber. Then the sword being brought in by a little boy, Cato took it,
drew it out, and looked at it; and when he saw the point was good,
"Now," said he, "I am master of myself;" and laying down the sword, he
took his book again, which, it is related, he read twice over. After
this he slept so soundly, that he was heard to snore by those that were
without.
About midnight, he called up two of his freedmen, Cleanthes, his
physician, and Butas, whom he chiefly employed in public business. Him
he sent to the port, to see if all his friends had sailed; to the
physician he gave his hand to be dressed, as it was swollen with the
blow he had struck one of his servants. At this they all rejoiced,
hoping that now he designed to live.
Butas, after a while, returned, and brought word they were all gone
except Crassus, who had stayed about some business, but was just ready
to depart; he said, also, that the wind was high, and the sea very
rough. Cato, on hearing this, sighed, out of compassion to those who
were at sea, and sent Butas again, to see if any of them should happen
to return for anything they wanted, and to acquaint him therewith.
Now the birds began to sing, and he again fell into a little slumber.
At length Butas came back, and told him, all was quiet in the port.
Then Cato, laying himself down, as if he would sleep out the rest of
the night, bade him shut the door after him. But as soon as Butas was
gone out, he took his sword, and stabbed it into his breast; yet not
being able to use his hand so well, on account of the swelling, he did
not immediately die of the wound; but struggling, fell off the bed, and
throwing down a little mathematical table that stood by, made such a
noise, that the servants, hearing it, cried out. And immediately his
son and all his friends came into the chamber, where seeing him lie
weltering in his blood, great part of his bowels out of his body, but
himself still alive and able to look at them, they all stood in horror.
The physician went to him, and would have put in his bowels, which were
not pierced, and sewed up the wound; but Cato, recovering himself, and
understanding the intention, thrust away the physician, plucked out his
own bowels, and tearing open the wound, immediately expired.
In less time than one would think his own family could have known this
accident, all the three hundred were at the door. And a little after,
the people of Utica flocked thither, crying out with one voice, he was
their benefactor and their savior, the only free and only undefeated
man. At the very same time, they had news that Caesar was coming; yet
neither fear of the present danger, nor desire to flatter the
conqueror, nor the commotions and discord among themselves, could
divert them from doing honor to Cato. For they sumptuously set out his
body, made him a magnificent funeral, and buried him by the seaside,
where now stands his statue, holding a sword. And only when this had
been done, they returned to consider of preserving themselves and their
city.
Caesar had been informed that Cato stayed at Utica, and did not seek to
fly; that he had sent away the rest of the Romans, but himself, with
his son and a few of his friends, continued there very unconcernedly,
so that he could not imagine what might be his design. But having a
great consideration for the man, he hastened thither with his army.
When he heard of his death, it is related he said these words, "Cato, I
grudge you your death, as you have grudged me the preservation of your
life." And, indeed, if Cato would have suffered himself to owe his life
to Caesar, he would not so much have impaired his own honor, as
augmented the other's glory. What would have been done, of course we
cannot know, but from Caesar's usual clemency, we may guess what was
most likely.
Cato was forty-eight years old when he died. His son suffered no injury
from Caesar; but, it is said, he grew idle, and was thought to be
dissipated among women. In Cappadocia, he stayed at the house of
Marphadates, one of the royal family there, who had a very handsome
wife; and continuing his visit longer than was suitable, he made
himself the subject of various epigrams; such as, for example,
Tomorrow, (being the thirtieth day),
Cato, 't is thought, will go away;
Porcius and Marphadates, friends so true,
One Soul, they say, suffices for the two,
that being the name of the woman, and so again,
To Cato's greatness every one confesses,
A royal Soul he certainly possesses.
But all these stains were entirely wiped off by the bravery of his
death. For in the battle of Philippi, where he fought for his country's
liberty against Caesar and Antony, when the ranks were breaking, he,
scorning to fly, or to escape unknown, called out to the enemy, showed
himself to them in the front, and encouraged those of his party who
stayed; and at length fell, and left his enemies full of admiration of
his valor.
Nor was the daughter of Cato inferior to the rest of her family, for
sober-living and greatness of spirit. She was married to Brutus, who
killed Caesar; was acquainted with the conspiracy, and ended her life
as became one of her birth and virtue. All which is related in the life
of Brutus.
Statyllius, who said he would imitate Cato, was at that time hindered
by the philosophers, when he would have put an end to his life. He
afterward followed Brutus, to whom he was very faithful and very
serviceable, and died in the field of Philippi.
AGIS
The fable of Ixion, who, embracing a cloud instead of Juno, begot the
Centaurs, has been ingeniously enough supposed to have been invented to
represent to us ambitious men, whose minds, doting on glory, which is a
mere image of virtue, produce nothing that is genuine or uniform, but
only, as might be expected of such a conjunction, misshapen and
unnatural actions. Running after their emulations and passions, and
carried away by the impulses of the moment, they may say with the
herdsmen, in the tragedy of Sophocles,
We follow these, though born their rightful lords,
And they command us, though they speak no words.
For this is indeed the true condition of men in public life, who, to
gain the vain title of being the people's leaders and governors, are
content to make themselves the slaves and followers of all the people's
humors and caprices. For as the look-out men at the ship's prow, though
they see what is ahead before the men at the helm, yet constantly look
back to the pilots there, and obey the orders they give; so these men
steered, as I may say, by popular applause, though they bear the name
of governors, are in reality the mere underlings of the multitude. The
man who is completely wise and virtuous, has no need at all of glory,
except so far as it disposes and eases his way to action by the greater
trust that it procures him. A young man, I grant, may be permitted,
while yet eager for distinction, to pride himself a little in his good
deeds; for (as Theophrastus says) his virtues, which are yet tender
and, as it were, in the blade, cherished and supported by praises, grow
stronger, and take the deeper root. But when this passion is
exorbitant, it is dangerous in all men, and in those who govern a
commonwealth, utterly destructive. For in the possession of large power
and authority, it transports men to a degree of madness; so that now
they no more think what is good, glorious, but will have those actions
only esteemed good that are glorious. As Phocion, therefore, answered
king Antipater, who sought his approbation of some unworthy action, "I
cannot be your flatterer, and your friend," so these men should answer
the people, "I cannot govern, and obey you." For it may happen to the
commonwealth, as to the serpent in the fable, whose tail, rising in
rebellion against the head, complained, as of a great grievance, that
it was always forced to follow, and required that it should be
permitted by turns to lead the way. And taking the command accordingly,
it soon indicted by its senseless courses mischiefs in abundance upon
itself, while the head was torn and lacerated with following, contrary
to nature, a guide that was deaf and blind. And such we see to have
been the lot of many, who, submitting to be guided by the inclinations
of an uninformed and unreasoning multitude, could neither stop, nor
recover themselves out of the confusion.
This is what has occurred to us to say, of that glory which depends on
the voice of large numbers, considering the sad effects of it in the
misfortunes of Caius and Tiberius Gracchus, men of noble nature, and
whose generous natural dispositions were improved by the best of
educations, and who came to the administration of affairs with the most
laudable intentions; yet they were ruined, I cannot say by an
immoderate desire of glory, but by a more excusable fear of disgrace.
For being excessively beloved and favored by the people, they thought
it a discredit to them not to make full repayment, endeavoring by new
public acts to outdo the honors they had received, and again, because
of these new kindnesses, incurring yet further distinctions; till the
people and they, mutually inflamed, and vieing thus with each other in
honors and benefits, brought things at last to such a pass, that they
might say that to engage so far was indeed a folly, but to retreat
would now be a shame.
This the reader will easily gather from the story. I will now compare
with them two Lacedaemonian popular leaders, the kings Agis and
Cleomenes. For they, being desirous also to raise the people, and to
restore the noble and just form of government, now long fallen into
disuse, incurred the hatred of the rich and powerful, who could not
endure to be deprived of the selfish enjoyments to which they were
accustomed. These were not indeed brothers by nature, as the two
Romans, but they had a kind of brotherly resemblance in their actions
and designs, which took a rise from such beginnings and occasions as I
am now about to relate.
When the love of gold and silver had once gained admittance into the
Lacedaemonian commonwealth, it was quickly followed by avarice and
baseness of spirit in the pursuit of it, and by luxury, effeminacy, and
prodigality in the use. Then Sparta fell from almost all her former
virtue and repute, and so continued till the days of Agis and Leonidas,
who both together were kings of the Lacedaemonians.
Agis was of the royal family of Eurypon, son of Eudamidas, and the
sixth in descent from Agesilaus, who made the expedition into Asia, and
was the greatest man of his time in Greece. Agesilaus left behind him a
son called Archidamus, the same who was slain at Mandonium, in Italy,
by the Messapians, and who was then succeeded by his eldest son Agis.
He being killed by Antipater near Megalopolis, and leaving no issue,
was succeeded by his brother Eudamidas; he, by a son called Archidamus;
and Archidamus, by another Eudamidas, the father of this Agis of whom
we now treat.
Leonidas, son of Cleonymus, was of the other royal house of the
Agiadae, and the eighth in descent from Pausanias, who defeated
Mardonius in the battle of Plataea. Pausanias was succeeded by a son
called Plistoanax; and he, by another Pausanias, who was banished, and
lived as a private man at Tegea; while his eldest son Agesipolis
reigned in his place. He, dying without issue, was succeeded by a
younger brother, called Cleombrotus, who left two sons; the elder was
Agesipolis, who reigned but a short time, and died without issue; the
younger, who then became king, was called Cleomenes, and had also two
sons, Acrotatus and Cleonymus. The first died before his father, but
left a son called Areus, who succeeded, and being slain at Corinth,
left the kingdom to his son Acrotatus. This Acrotatus was defeated, and
slain near Megalopolis, in a battle against the tyrant Aristodemus; he
left his wife big with child, and on her being delivered of a son,
Leonidas, son of the above-named Cleonymus, was made his guardian, and
as the young king died before becoming a man, he succeeded in the
kingdom.
Leonidas was a king not particularly suitable to his people. For though
there were at that time at Sparta a general decline in manners, yet a
greater revolt from the old habits appeared in him than in others. For
having lived a long time among the great lords of Persia, and been a
follower of king Seleucus, he unadvisedly thought to imitate, among
Greek institutions and in a lawful government, the pride and assumption
usual in those courts. Agis, on the contrary, in fineness of nature and
elevation of mind, not only far excelled Leonidas, but in a manner all
the kings that had reigned since the great Agesilaus. For though he had
been bred very tenderly, in abundance and even in luxury, by his mother
Agesistrata and his grandmother Archidamia, who were the wealthiest of
the Lacedaemonians, yet before the age of twenty, he renounced all
indulgence in pleasures. Withdrawing himself as far as possible from
the gaiety and ornament which seemed becoming to the grace of his
person, he made it his pride to appear in the coarse Spartan coat. In
his meals, his bathings, and in all his exercises, he followed the old
Laconian usage, and was often heard to say, he had no desire for the
place of king, if he did not hope by means of that authority to restore
their ancient laws and discipline.
The Lacedaemonians might date the beginning of their corruption from
their conquest of Athens, and the influx of gold and silver among them
that thence ensued. Yet, nevertheless, the number of houses which
Lycurgus appointed being still maintained, and the law remaining in
force by which everyone was obliged to leave his lot or portion of land
entirely to his son, a kind of order and equality was thereby
preserved, which still in some degree sustained the state amidst its
errors in other respects. But one Epitadeus happening to be ephor, a
man of great influence, and of a willful, violent spirit, on some
occasion of a quarrel with his son, proposed a decree, that all men
should have liberty to dispose of their land by gift in their lifetime,
or by their last will and testament. This being promoted by him to
satisfy a passion of revenge, and through covetousness consented to by
others, and thus enacted for a law, was the ruin of the best state of
the commonwealth. For the rich men without scruple drew the estates
into their own hands, excluding the rightful heirs from their
succession; and all the wealth being centered upon a few, the
generality were poor and miserable. Honorable pursuits, for which there
was no longer leisure, were neglected; and the state was filled with
sordid business, and with hatred and envy of the rich. There did not
remain above seven hundred of the old Spartan families, of which
perhaps one hundred might have estates in land, the rest were destitute
alike of wealth and of honor, were tardy and unperforming in the
defense of their country against its enemies abroad, and eagerly
watched the opportunity for change and revolution at home.
Agis, therefore, believing it a glorious action, as in truth it was, to
equalize and repeople the state, began to sound the inclinations of the
citizens. He found the young men disposed beyond his expectation; they
were eager to enter with him upon the contest in the cause of virtue,
and to fling aside, for freedom's sake, their old manner of life, as
readily as the wrestler does his garment. But the old men, habituated
and more confirmed in their vices, were most of them as alarmed at the
very name of Lycurgus, as a fugitive slave to be brought back before
his offended master. These men could not endure to hear Agis
continually deploring the present state of Sparta, and wishing she
might be restored to her ancient glory. But on the other side,
Lysander, the son of Libys, Mandroclidas, the son of Ecphanes, together
with Agesilaus, not only approved his design, but assisted and
confirmed him in it. Lysander had a great authority and credit with the
people; Mandroclidas was esteemed the ablest Greek of his time to
manage an affair and put it in train, and, joined with skill and
cunning, had a great degree of boldness. Agesilaus was the king's
uncle, by the mother's side; an eloquent man, but covetous and
voluptuous, who was not moved by considerations of public good, but
rather seemed to be persuaded to it by his son Hippomedon, whose
courage and signal actions in war had gained him a high esteem and
great influence among the young men of Sparta, though indeed the true
motive was, that he had many debts, and hoped by this means to be freed
from them.
As soon as Agis had prevailed with his uncle, he endeavored by his
mediation to gain his mother also, who had many friends and followers,
and a number of persons in her debt in the city, and took a
considerable part in public affairs. At the first proposal, she was
very averse, and strongly advised her son not to engage in so difficult
and so unprofitable an enterprise. But Agesilaus endeavored to possess
her, that the thing was not so difficult as she imagined, and that it
might, in all likelihood, redound to the advantage of her family; while
the king, her son, besought her not for money's sake to decline
assisting his hopes of glory. He told her, he could not pretend to
equal other kings in riches, the very followers and menials of the
satraps and stewards of Seleucus or Ptolemy abounding more in wealth
than all the Spartan kings put together; but if by contempt of wealth
and pleasure, by simplicity and magnanimity, he could surpass their
luxury and abundance, if he could restore their former equality to the
Spartans, then he should be a great king indeed. In conclusion, the
mother and the grandmother also were so taken, so carried away with the
inspiration, as it were, of the young man's noble and generous
ambition, that they not only consented, but were ready on an occasions
to spur him on to a perseverance, and not only sent to speak on his
behalf with the men with whom they had an interest, but addressed the
other women also, knowing well that the Lacedaemonian wives had always
a great power with their husbands, who used to impart to them their
state affairs with greater freedom than the women would communicate
with the men in the private business of their families. Which was
indeed one of the greatest obstacles to this design; for the money of
Sparta being most of it in the women's hands, it was their interest to
oppose it, not only as depriving them of those superfluous trifles, in
which through want of better knowledge and experience, they placed
their chief felicity, but also because they knew their riches were the
main support of their power and credit.
Those, therefore, who were of this faction, had recourse to Leonidas,
representing to him, how it was his part, as the elder and more
experienced, to put a stop to the ill-advised projects of a rash young
man. Leonidas, though of himself sufficiently inclined to oppose Agis,
durst not openly, for fear of the people, who were manifestly desirous
of this change; but underhand he did all he could to discredit and
thwart the project, and to prejudice the chief magistrates against him,
and on all occasions craftily insinuated, that it was as the price of
letting him usurp arbitrary power, that Agis thus proposed to divide
the property of the rich among the poor, and that the object of these
measures for canceling debts, and dividing the lands, was, not to
furnish Sparta with citizens, but purchase him a tyrant's body-guard.
Agis, nevertheless, little regarding these rumors, procured Lysander's
election as ephor; and then took the first occasion of proposing
through him his Rhetra to the council, the chief articles of which were
these: That every one should be free from their debts; all the lands to
be divided into equal portions, those that lay betwixt the watercourse
near Pellene and Mount Taygetus, and as far as the cities of Malea and
Sellasia, into four thousand five hundred lots, the remainder into
fifteen thousand; these last to be shared out among those of the
country people who were fit for service as heavy-armed soldiers, the
first among the natural born Spartans; and their number also should be
supplied from any among the country people or strangers who had
received the proper breeding of freemen, and were of vigorous, body and
of age for military service. All these were to be divided into fifteen
companies, some of four hundred, and some of two, with a diet and
discipline agreeable to the laws of Lycurgus.
This decree being proposed in the council of Elders, met there with
opposition; so that Lysander immediately convoked the great assembly of
the people, to whom he, Mandroclidas, and Agesilaus made orations,
exhorting them that they would not suffer the majesty of Sparta to
remain abandoned to contempt, to gratify a few rich men, who lorded it
over them; but that they should call to mind the oracles in old time
which had forewarned them to beware of the love of money, as the great
danger and probable ruin of Sparta, and, moreover, those recently
brought from the temple of Pasiphae. This was a famous temple and
oracle at Thalamae; and this Pasiphae, some say, was one of the
daughters of Atlas, who had by Jupiter a son called Ammon; others are
of opinion it was Cassandra, the daughter of king Priam, who, dying in
this place, was called Pasiphae, as the revealer of oracles to all men.
Phylarchus says, that this was Daphne, the daughter of Amyclas, who,
flying from Apollo, was transformed into a laurel, and honored by that
god with the gift of prophecy. But be it as it will, it is certain the
people were made to apprehend, that this oracle had commanded them to
return to their former state of equality settled by Lycurgus. As soon
as these had done speaking, Agis stood up, and after a few words, told
them he would make the best contribution in his power to the new
legislation, which was proposed for their advantage. In the first
place, he would divide among them all his patrimony, which was of large
extent in tillage and pasture; he would also give six hundred talents
in ready money, and his mother, grandmother, and his other friends and
relations, who were the richest of the Lacedaemonians, were ready to
follow his example.
The people were transported with admiration of the young man's
generosity, and with joy, that after three hundred years' interval, at
last there had appeared a king worthy of Sparta. But, on the other
side, Leonidas was now more than ever averse, being sensible that he
and his friends would be obliged to contribute with their riches, and
yet all the honor and obligation would redound to Agis. He asked him
then before them all, whether Lycurgus were not in his opinion a wise
man, and a lover of his country. Agis answering he was, "And when did
Lycurgus," replied Leonidas, "cancel debts, or admit strangers to
citizenship, -- he who thought the commonwealth not secure unless from
time to time the city was cleared of all strangers?" To this Agis
replied, "It is no wonder that Leonidas, who was brought up and married
abroad, and has children by a wife taken out of a Persian court, should
know little of Lycurgus or his laws. Lycurgus took away both debts and
loans, by taking away money; and objected indeed to the presence of men
who were foreign to the manners and customs of the country, not in any
case from an ill-will to their persons, but lest the example of their
lives and conduct should infect the city with the love of riches, and
of delicate and luxurious habits. For it is well known that he himself
gladly kept Terpander, Thales, and Pherecycles, though they were
strangers, because he perceived they were in their poems and in their
philosophy of the same mind with him. And you that are wont to praise
Ecprepes, who, being ephor, cut with his hatchet two of the nine
strings from the instrument of Phrynis, the musician, and to commend
those who afterwards imitated him, in cutting the strings of
Timotheus's harp, with what face can you blame us, for designing to cut
off superfluity and luxury and display from the commonwealth? Do you
think those men were so concerned only about a lute-string, or intended
anything else than to check in music that same excess and extravagance
which rule in our present lives and manners, and have disturbed and
destroyed all the harmony and order of our city?"
From this time forward, as the common people followed Agis, so the rich
men adhered to Leonidas. They be sought him not to forsake their cause;
and with persuasions and entreaties so far prevailed with the council
of Elders, whose power consisted in preparing all laws before they were
proposed to the people, that the designed Rhetra was rejected, though
but by only one vote. Whereupon Lysander, who was still ephor,
resolving to be revenged on Leonidas, drew up an information against
him, grounded on two old laws: the one forbids any of the blood of
Hercules to raise up children by a foreign woman, and the other makes
it capital for a Lacedaemonian to leave his country to settle among
foreigners. Whilst he set others on to manage this accusation, he with
his colleagues went to observe the sign, which was a custom they had,
and performed in this manner. Every ninth year, the ephors, choosing a
starlight night, when there is neither cloud nor moon, sit down
together in quiet and silence, and watch the sky. And if they chance to
see the shooting of a star, they presently pronounce their king guilty
of some offense against the gods, and thereupon he is immediately
suspended from all exercise of regal power, till he is relieved by an
oracle from Delphi or Olympia.
Lysander, therefore, assured the people, he had seen a star shoot, and
at the same time Leonidas was cited to answer for himself. Witnesses
were produced to testify he had married an Asian woman, bestowed on him
by one of king Seleucus's lieutenants; that he had two children by her,
but she so disliked and hated him, that, against his wishes, flying
from her, he was in a manner forced to return to Sparta, where, his
predecessor dying without issue, he took upon him the government.
Lysander, not content with this, persuaded also Cleombrotus to lay
claim to the kingdom. He was of the royal family, and son-in-law to
Leonidas; who, fearing now the event of this process, fled as a
suppliant to the temple of Minerva of the Brazen House, together with
his daughter, the wife of Cleombrotus; for she in this occasion
resolved to leave her husband, and to follow her father. Leonidas being
again cited, and not appearing, they pronounced a sentence of
deposition against him, and made Cleombrotus king in his place.
Soon after this revolution, Lysander, his year expiring, went out of
his office, and new ephors were chosen, who gave Leonidas assurance of
safety, and cited Lysander and Mandroclidas to answer for having,
contrary to law, canceled debts, and designed a new division of lands.
They, seeing themselves in danger, had recourse to the two kings, and
represented to them, how necessary it was for their interest and safety
to act with united authority and bid defiance to the ephors. For,
indeed, the power of the ephors, they said, was only grounded on the
dissensions of the kings, it being their privilege, when the kings
differed in opinion, to add their suffrage to whichever they judged to
have given the best advice; but when the two kings were unanimous, none
ought or durst resist their authority, the magistrate, whose office it
was to stand as umpire when they were at variance, had no call to
interfere when they were of one mind. Agis and Cleombrotus, thus
persuaded, went together with their friends into the market-place,
where, removing the ephors from their seats, they placed others in
their room of whom Agesilaus was one; proceeding then to arm a company
of young men, and releasing many out of prison; so that those of the
contrary faction began to be in great fear of their lives; but there
was no blood spilt. On the contrary, Agis, having notice that Agesilaus
had ordered a company of soldiers to lie in wait for Leonidas, to kill
him as he fled to Tegea, immediately sent some of his followers to
defend him, and to convey him safely into that city.
Thus far all things proceeded prosperously, none daring to oppose; but
through the sordid weakness of one man these promising beginnings were
blasted, and a most noble and truly Spartan purpose overthrown and
ruined, by the love of money. Agesilaus, as we said, was much in debt,
though in possession of one of the largest and best estates in land;
and while he gladly joined in this design to be quit of his debts, he
was not at all willing to part with his land. Therefore he persuaded
Agis, that if both these things should be put in execution at the same
time, so great and so sudden an alteration might cause some dangerous
commotion; but if debts were in the first place canceled, the rich men
would afterwards more easily be prevailed with to part with their land.
Lysander, also, was of the same opinion, being deceived in like manner
by the craft of Agesilaus; so that all men were presently commanded to
bring in their bonds, or deeds of obligation, by the Lacedaemonians
called Claria, into the market-place, where being laid together in a
heap, they set fire to them. The wealthy, money-lending people, one may
easily imagine, beheld it with a heavy heart; but Agesilaus told them
scoffingly, his eyes had never seen so bright and so pure a flame.
And now the people pressed earnestly for an immediate division of
lands; the kings also had ordered it should be done; but Agesilaus,
sometimes pretending one difficulty, and sometimes another, delayed the
execution, till an occasion happened to call Agis to the wars. The
Achaeans, in virtue of a defensive treaty of alliance, sent to demand
succors, as they expected every day that the Aetolians would attempt to
enter Peloponnesus, from the territory of Megara. They had sent Aratus,
their general, to collect forces to hinder this incursion. Aratus wrote
to the ephors, who immediately gave order that Agis should hasten to
their assistance with the Lacedaemonian auxiliaries. Agis was extremely
pleased to see the zeal and bravery of those who went with him upon
this expedition. They were for the most part young men, and poor; and
being just released from their debts and set at liberty, and hoping on
their return to receive each man his lot of land, they followed their
king with wonderful alacrity. The cities through which they passed,
were in admiration to see how they marched from one end of Peloponnesus
to the other, without the least disorder, and, in a manner, without
being heard. It gave the Greeks occasion to discourse with one another,
how great might be the temperance and modesty of a Laconian army in old
time, under their famous captains Agesilaus, Lysander, or Leonidas,
since they saw such discipline and exact obedience under a leader who
perhaps was the youngest man all the army. They saw also how he was
himself content to fare hardly, ready to undergo any labors, and not to
be distinguished by pomp or richness of habit or arms from the meanest
of his soldiers; and to people in general it was an object of regard
and admiration. But rich men viewed the innovation with dislike and
alarm, lest haply the example might spread, and work changes to their
prejudice in their own countries as well.
Agis joined Aratus near the city of Corinth, where it was still a
matter of debate whether or no it were expedient to give the enemy
battle. Agis, on this occasion, showed great forwardness and
resolution, yet without temerity or presumption. He declared it was his
opinion they ought to fight, thereby to hinder the enemy from passing
the gates of Peloponnesus, but, nevertheless, he would submit to the
judgment of Aratus, not only as the elder and more experienced captain,
but as he was general of the Achaeans, whose forces he would not
pretend to command, but was only come thither to assist them. I am not
ignorant that Baton of Sinope, relates it in another manner; he says,
Aratus would have fought, and that Agis was against it; but it is
certain he was mistaken, not having read what Aratus himself wrote in
his own justification, that knowing the people had wellnigh got in
their harvest, he thought it much better to let the enemy pass, than
put all to the hazard of a battle. And therefore, giving thanks to the
confederates for their readiness, he dismissed them. And Agis, not
without having gained a great deal of honor, returned to Sparta, where
he found the people in disorder, and a new revolution imminent, owing
to the ill government of Agesilaus.
For he, being now one of the ephors, and freed from the fear which
formerly kept him in some restraint, forbore no kind of oppression
which might bring in gain. Among other things, he exacted a thirteenth
month's tax, whereas the usual cycle required at this time no such
addition to the year. For these and other reasons fearing those whom he
injured, and knowing how he was hated by the people, he thought it
necessary to maintain a guard, which always accompanied him to the
magistrate's office. And presuming now on his power, he was grown so
insolent, that of the two kings, the one he openly contemned, and if he
showed any respect towards Agis, would have it thought rather an effect
of his near relationship, than any duty or submission to the royal
authority. He gave it out also, that he was to continue ephor the
ensuing year.
His enemies, therefore, alarmed by this report, lost no time in risking
an attempt against him; and openly bringing hack Leonidas from Tegea,
reestablished him in the kingdom, to which even the people, highly
incensed for having been defrauded in the promised division of lands,
willingly consented. Agesilaus himself would hardly have escaped their
fury, if his son, Hippomedon, whose manly virtues made him dear to all,
had not saved him out of their hands, and then privately conveyed him
from the city.
During this commotion, the two kings fled, Agis to the temple of the
Brazen House, and Cleombrotus to that of Neptune. For Leonidas was more
incensed against his son-in-law; and leaving Agis alone, went with his
soldiers to Cleombrotus's sanctuary, and there with great passion
reproached him for having, though he was his son-in-law, conspired with
his enemies, usurped his throne, and forced him from his country.
Cleombrotus, having little to say for himself, sat silent. His wife,
Chilonis, the daughter of Leonidas, had chosen to follow her father in
his sufferings; for when Cleombrotus usurped the kingdom, she forsook
him, and wholly devoted herself to comfort her father in his
affliction; whilst he still remained in Sparta, she remained also, as a
suppliant, with him, and when he fled, she fled with him, bewailing his
misfortune, and extremely displeased with Cleombrotus. But now, upon
this turn of fortune, she changed in like manner, and was seen sitting
now, as a suppliant, with her husband, embracing him with her arms, and
having her two little children beside her. All men were full of wonder
at the piety and tender affection of the young woman, who, pointing to
her robes and her hair, both alike neglected and unattended to, said to
Leonidas, "I am not brought, my father, to this condition you see me
in, on account of the present misfortunes of Cleombrotus; my mourning
habit is long since familiar to me. It was put on to condole with you
in your banishment; and now you are restored to your country, and to
your kingdom, must I still remain in grief and misery? Or would you
have me attired in my royal ornaments, that I may rejoice with you,
when you have killed, within my arms, the man to whom you gave me for a
wife? Either Cleombrotus must appease you by mine and my children's
tears, or he must suffer a punishment greater than you propose for his
faults, and shall see me, whom he loves so well, die before him. To
what end should I live, or how shall I appear among the Spartan women,
when it shall so manifestly be seen, that I have not been able to move
to compassion either a husband or a father? I was born, it seems, to
participate in the ill fortune and in the disgrace, both as a wife and
a daughter, of those nearest and dearest to me. As for Cleombrotus, I
sufficiently surrendered any honorable plea on his behalf, when I
forsook him to follow you; but you yourself offer the fairest excuse
for his proceedings, by showing to the world that for the sake of a
kingdom, it is just to kill a son-in-law, and be regardless of a
daughter." Chilonis, having ended this lamentation, rested her face on
her husband's head, and looked round with her weeping and woebegone
eyes upon those who stood be fore her.
Leonidas, touched with compassion, withdrew a while to advise with his
friends; then returning, bade Cleombrotus leave the sanctuary and go
into banishment; Chilonis, he said, ought to stay with him, it not
being just she should forsake a father whose affection had granted to
her intercession the life of her husband. But all he could say would
not prevail. She rose up immediately, and taking one of her children in
her arms, gave the other to her husband; and making her reverence to
the altar of the goddess, went out and followed him. So that, in a
word, if Cleombrotus were not utterly blinded by ambition, he must
surely choose to be banished with so excellent a woman rather than
without her to possess a kingdom.
Cleombrotus thus removed, Leonidas proceeded also to displace the
ephors, and to choose others in their room; then he began to consider
how he might entrap Agis. At first, he endeavored by fair means to
persuade him to leave the sanctuary, and partake with him in the
kingdom. The people, he said, would easily pardon the errors of a young
man, ambitious of glory, and deceived by the craft of Agesilaus. But
finding Agis was suspicious, and not to be prevailed with to quit his
sanctuary, he gave up that design; yet what could not then be effected
by the dissimulation of an enemy, was soon after brought to pass by the
treachery of friends.
Amphares, Damochares, and Arcesilaus often visited Agis, and he was so
confident of their fidelity that after a while he was prevailed with to
accompany them to the baths, which were not far distant, they
constantly returning to see him safe again in the temple. They were all
three his familiars; and Amphares had borrowed a great deal of plate
and rich household stuff from Agesistrata, and hoped if he could
destroy her and the whole family, he might peaceably enjoy those goods.
And he, it is said, was the readiest of all to serve the purposes of
Leonidas, and being one of the ephors, did all he could to incense the
rest of his colleagues against Agis. These men, therefore, finding that
Agis would not quit his sanctuary, but on occasion would venture from
it to go to the bath, resolved to seize him on the opportunity thus
given them. And one day as he was returning, they met and saluted him
as formerly, conversing pleasantly by the way, and jesting, as youthful
friends might, till coming to the turning of a street which led to the
prison, Amphares, by virtue of his office, laid his hand on Agis, and
told him, "You must go with me, Agis, before the other ephors, to
answer for your misdemeanors." At the same time, Damochares, who was a
tall, strong man, drew his cloak tight round his neck, and dragged him
after by it, whilst the others went behind to thrust him on. So that
none of Agis's friends being near to assist him, nor anyone by, they
easily got him into the prison, where Leonidas was already arrived,
with a company of soldiers, who strongly guarded all the avenues; the
ephors also came in, with as many of the Elders as they knew to be true
to their party, being desirous to proceed with some resemblance of
justice. And thus they bade him give an account of his actions. To
which Agis, smiling at their dissimulation, answered not a word.
Amphares told him, it was more seasonable to weep, for now the time was
come in which he should be punished for his presumption. Another of the
ephors, as though he would be more favorable, and offering as it were
an excuse, asked him whether he was not forced to what he did by
Agesilaus and Lysander. But Agis answered, he had not been constrained
by any man, nor had any other intent in what he did, but only to follow
the example of Lycurgus, and to govern conformably to his laws. The
same ephor asked him, whether now at least he did not repent his
rashness. To which the young man answered, that though he were to
suffer the extremest penalty for it, yet he could never repent of so
just and so glorious a design. Upon this they passed sentence of death
on him, and bade the officers carry him to the Dechas, as it is called,
a place in the prison where they strangle malefactors. And when the
officers would not venture to lay hands on him, and the very mercenary
soldiers declined it, believing it an illegal and a wicked act to lay
violent hands on a king, Damochares, threatening and reviling them for
it, himself thrust him into the room.
For by this time the news of his being seized had reached many parts of
the city, and there was a concourse of people with lights and torches
about the prison gates, and in the midst of them the mother and the
grandmother of Agis, crying out with a loud voice, that their king
ought to appear, and to be heard and judged by the people. But this
clamor, instead of preventing, hastened his death; his enemies fearing,
if the tumult should increase, he might be rescued during the night out
of their hands.
Agis, being now at the point to die, perceived one of the officers
bitterly bewailing his misfortune; "Weep not, friend," said he, "for
me, who die innocent, by the lawless act of wicked men. My condition is
much better than theirs." As soon as he had spoken these words, not
showing the least sign of fear, he offered his neck to the noose.
Immediately after he was dead, Amphares went out of the prison gate,
where he found Agesistrata, who, believing him still the same friend as
before, threw herself at his feet. He gently raised her up, and assured
her, she need not fear any further violence or danger of death for her
son, and that if she pleased, she might go in and see him. She begged
her mother might also have the favor to be admitted, and he replied,
nobody should hinder it. When they were entered, he commanded the gate
should again be locked, and Archidamia, the grandmother, to be first
introduced; she was now grown very old, and had lived all her days in
the highest repute among her fellows. As soon as Amphares thought she
was dispatched, he told Agesistrata she might now go in if she pleased.
She entered, and beholding her son's body stretched on the ground, and
her mother hanging by the neck, the first thing she did was, with her
own hands, to assist the officers in taking down the body; then
covering it decently, she laid it out by her son's, whom then
embracing, and kissing his cheeks, "O my son," said she, "it was thy
too great mercy and goodness which brought thee and us to ruin."
Amphares, who stood watching behind the door, on hearing this, broke
in, and said angrily to her, " Since you approve so well of your son's
actions, it is fit you should partake in his reward." She, rising up to
offer herself to the noose, said only, "I pray that it may redound to
the good of Sparta."
And now the three bodies being exposed to view, and the fact divulged,
no fear was strong enough to hinder the people from expressing their
abhorrence of what was done, and their detestation of Leonidas and
Amphares, the contrivers of it. So wicked and barbarous an act had
never been committed in Sparta, since first the Dorians inhabited
Peloponnesus; the very enemies in war, they said, were always cautious
of spilling the blood of a Lacedaemonian king, insomuch that in any
combat they would decline, and endeavor to avoid them, from feelings of
respect and reverence for their station. And certainly we see that in
the many battles fought betwixt the Lacedaemonians and the other
Greeks, up to the time of Philip of Macedon, not one of their kings was
ever killed, except Cleombrotus, by a javelin-wound, at the battle of
Leuctra. I am not ignorant that the Messenians affirm, Theopompus was
also slain by their Aristomenes; but the Lacedaemonians deny it, and
say he was only wounded.
Be it as it will, it is certain at least that Agis was the first king
put to death in Lacedaemon by the ephors, for having undertaken a
design noble in itself and worthy of his country, at a time of life
when men's errors usually meet with an easy pardon. And if errors he
did commit, his enemies certainly had less reason to blame him, than
had his friends for that gentle and compassionate temper which made him
save the life of Leonidas, and believe in other men's professions.
CLEOMENES
Thus fell Agis. His brother Archidamus was too quick for Leonidas, and
saved himself by a timely retreat. But his wife, then mother of a young
child, he forced from her own house, and compelled Agiatis, for that
was her name, to marry his son Cleomenes, though at that time too young
for a wife, because he was unwilling that anyone else should have her,
being heiress to her father Glylippus's great estate; in person the
most youthful and beautiful woman in all Greece, and well-conducted in
her habits of life. And therefore, they say, she did all she could that
she might not be compelled to this new marriage. But being thus united
to Cleomenes, she indeed hated Leonidas, but to the youth showed
herself a kind and obliging wife. He, as soon as they came together,
began to love her very much, and the constant kindness that she still
retained for the memory of Agis, wrought somewhat of the like feeling
in the young man for him, so that he would often inquire of her
concerning what had passed, and attentively listen to the story of
Agis's purpose and design. Now Cleomenes had a generous and great soul;
he was as temperate and moderate in his pleasures as Agis, but not so
scrupulous, circumspect, and gentle. There was something of heat and
passion always goading him on, and an impetuosity and violence in his
eagerness to pursue anything which he thought good and just. To have
men obey him of their own freewill, he conceived to be the best
discipline; but, likewise, to subdue resistance, and force them to the
better course, was, in his opinion, commendable and brave.
This disposition made him dislike the management of the city. The
citizens lay dissolved in supine idleness and pleasures; the king let
everything take its own way, thankful if nobody gave him any
disturbance, nor called him away from the enjoyment of his wealth and
luxury. The public interest was neglected, and each man intent upon his
private gain. It was dangerous, now Agis was killed, so much as to name
such a thing as the exercising and training of their youth; and to
speak of the ancient temperance, endurance, and equality, was a sort of
treason against the state. It is said also that Cleomenes, whilst a
boy, studied philosophy under Sphaerus, the Borysthenite, who crossed
over to Sparta, and spent some time and trouble in instructing the
youth. Sphaerus was one of the first of Zeno the Citiean's scholars,
and it is likely enough that he admired the manly temper of Cleomenes
and inflamed his generous ambition. The ancient Leonidas, as story
tells, being asked what manner of poet he thought Tyrtaeus, replied,
"Good to whet young men's courage;" for being filled with a divine fury
by his poems, they rushed into any danger. And so the stoic philosophy
is a dangerous incentive to strong and fiery dispositions, but where it
combines with a grave and gentle temper, is most successful in leading
it to its proper good.
Upon the death of his father Leonidas, he succeeded, and observing the
citizens of all sorts to be debauched, the rich neglecting the public
good, and intent on their private gain and pleasure, and the poor
distressed in their own homes, and therefore without either spirit for
war or ambition to be trained up as Spartans, that he had only the name
of king, and the ephors all the power, he was resolved to change the
present posture of affairs. He had a friend whose name was Xenares, his
lover, (such an affection the Spartans express by the term, being
inspired, or imbreathed with); him he sounded, and of him he would
commonly inquire what manner of king Agis was, by what means and by
what assistance he began and pursued his designs. Xenares, at first,
willingly compiled with his request, and told him the whole story, with
all the particular circumstances of the actions. But when he observed
Cleomenes to be extremely affected at the relation, and more than
ordinarily taken with Agis's new model of the government, and begging a
repetition of the story, he at first severely chid him, told him he was
frantic, and at last left off all sort of familiarity and intercourse
with him, yet he never told any man the cause of their disagreement,
but would only say, Cleomenes knew very well. Cleomenes, finding
Xenares averse to his designs, and thinking all others to be of the
same disposition, consulted with none, but contrived the whole business
by himself. And considering that it would be easier to bring about an
alteration when the city was at war, than when in peace, he engaged the
commonwealth in a quarrel with the Achaeans, who had given them fair
occasions to complain. For Aratus, a man of the greatest power amongst
all the Achaeans, designed from the very beginning to bring all the
Peloponnesians into one common body. And to effect this was the one
object of all his many commanderships and his long political course; as
he thought this the only means to make them a match for their foreign
enemies. Pretty nearly all the rest agreed to his proposals, only the
Lacedaemonians, the Eleans, and as many of the Arcadians as inclined to
the Spartan interest, remained unpersuaded. And so as soon as Leonidas
was dead, he began to attack the Arcadians, and wasted those especially
that bordered on Achaea, by this means designing to try the
inclinations of the Spartans, and despising Cleomenes as a youth, and
of no experience in affairs of state or war. Upon this, the ephors sent
Cleomenes to surprise the Athenaeum, near Belbina, which is a pass
commanding an entrance into Laconia and was then the subject of
litigation with the Megalopolitans. Cleomenes possessed himself of the
place, and fortified it, at which action Aratus showed no public
resentment, but marched by night to surprise Tegea and Orchormenus. The
design failed, for those that were to betray the cities into his hands,
turned afraid; so Aratus retreated, imagining that his design had been
undiscovered. But Cleomenes wrote a sarcastic letter to him, and
desired to know, as from a friend, whither he intended to march at
night; and Aratus answering, that having heard of his design to fortify
Belbina, he meant to march thither to oppose him, Cleomenes rejoined,
that he did not dispute it, but begged to be informed, if he might be
allowed to ask the question, why he carried those torches and ladders
with him.
Aratus laughing at the jest, and asking what manner of youth this was,
Damocrates, a Spartan exile, replied, "If you have any designs upon the
Lacedaemonians, begin before this young eagle's talons are grown."
Presently after this, Cleomenes, encamping in Arcadia with a few horse
and three hundred foot, received orders from the ephors, who feared to
engage in the war, commanding him home; but when upon his retreat
Aratus took Caphyae, they commissioned him again. In this expedition he
took Methydrium, and overran the country of the Argives; and the
Achaeans, to oppose him, came out with an army of twenty thousand foot
and one thousand horse, under the command of Aristomachus. Cleomenes
faced them at Pallantium, and offered battle, but Aratus, being cowed
by his bravery, would not suffer the general to engage, but retreated,
amidst the reproaches of the Achaeans, and the derision and scorn of
the Spartans, who were not above five thousand. Cleomenes, encouraged
by this success, began to speak boldly among the citizens, and
reminding them of a sentence of one of their ancient kings, said, it
was in vain now that the Spartans asked, not how many their enemies
were, but where they were. After this, marching to the assistance of
the Eleans, whom the Achaeans were attacking, falling upon the enemy in
their retreat near the Lycaeum, he put their whole army to flight,
taking a great number of captives, and leaving many dead upon the
place; so that it was commonly reported amongst the Greeks that Aratus
was slain. But Aratus, making the best advantage of the opportunity,
immediately after the defeat marched to Mantinea, and before anybody
suspected it, took the city, and put a garrison into it. Upon this, the
Lacedaemonians being quite discouraged, and opposing Cleomenes's
designs of carrying on the war, he now exerted himself to have
Archidamus, the brother of Agis, sent for from Messene, as he, of the
other family, had a right to the kingdom ; and besides, Cleomenes
thought that the power of the ephors would be reduced, when the kingly
state was thus filled up, and raised to its proper position. But those
that were concerned in the murder of Agis, perceiving the design, and
fearing that upon Archidamus's return they should be called to an
account, received him on his coming privately into town, and joined in
bringing him home, and presently after murdered him. Whether Cleomenes
was against it, as Phylarchus thinks, or whether he was persuaded by
his friends, or let him fall into their hands, is uncertain; however,
they were most blamed, as having forced his consent.
He, still resolving to new model the state, bribed the ephors to send
him out to war; and won the affections of many others by means of his
mother Cratesiclea, who spared no cost and was very zealous to promote
her son's ambition; and though of herself she had no inclination to
marry, yet for his sake, she accepted, as her husband, one of the
chiefest citizens for wealth and power. Cleomenes, marching forth with
the army now under his commend, took Leuctra, a place belonging to
Megalopolis; and the Achaeans quickly coming up to resist him with a
good body of men commanded by Aratus, in a battle under the very walls
of the city some part of his army was routed. But whereas Aratus had
commanded the Achaeans not to pass a deep watercourse, and thus put a
stop to the pursuit, Lydiadas, the Megalopolitan, fretting at the
orders, and encouraging the horse which he led, and following the
routed enemy, got into a place full of vines, hedges, and ditches; and
being forced to break his ranks, began to retire in disorder.
Cleomenes, observing the advantage, commanded the Tarentines and
Cretans to engage him, by whom, after a brave defense, he was routed
and slain. The Lacedaemonians, thus encouraged, fell with a great shout
upon the Achaeans, and routed their whole army. Of the slain, who were
very many, the rest Cleomenes delivered up, when the enemy petitioned
for them; but the body of Lydiadas he commanded to be brought to him;
and then putting on it a purple robe, and a crown upon its head, sent a
convoy with it to the gates of Megalopolis. This is that Lydiadas who
resigned his power as tyrant, restored liberty to the citizens, and
joined the city to the Achaean interest.
Cleomenes, being very much elated by this success, and persuaded that
if matters were wholly at his disposal, he should soon be too hard for
the Achaeans, persuaded Megistonus, his mother's husband, that it was
expedient for the state to shake off the power of the ephors, and to
put all their wealth into one common stock for the whole body; thus
Sparta, being restored to its old equality, might aspire again to the
command of all Greece. Megistonus liked the design, and engaged two or
three more of his friends. About that time, one of the ephors, sleeping
in Pasiphae's temple, dreamed a very surprising dream; for he thought
he saw the four chairs removed out of the place where the ephors used
to sit and do the business of their office, and one only set there; and
whilst he wondered, he heard a voice out of the temple, saying, "This
is best for Sparta." The person telling Cleomenes this dream, he was a
little troubled at first, fearing that he used this as a trick to sift
him, upon some suspicion of his design, but when he was satisfied that
the relater spoke truth, he took heart again. And carrying with him
those whom he thought would be most against his project, he took Heraea
and Alsaea, two towns in league with the Achaeans, furnished Orchomenus
with provisions, encamped before Mantinea, and with long marches up and
down so harassed the Lacedaemonians, that many of them at their own
request were left behind in Arcadia, while he with the mercenaries went
on toward Sparta, and by the way communicated his design to those whom
he thought fittest for his purpose, and marched slowly, that he might
catch the ephors at supper.
When he was come near the city, he sent Euryclidas to the public table,
where the ephors supped, under pretense of carrying some message from
him from the army; Therycion, Phoebis, and two of those who had been
bred up with Cleomenes, whom they call mothaces, followed with a few
soldiers; and whilst Euryclidas was delivering his message to the
ephors, they ran upon them with their drawn swords, and slew them. The
first of them, Agylaeus, on receiving the blow, fell and lay as dead;
but in a little time quietly raising himself, and drawing himself out
of the room, he crept, without being discovered, into a little building
which was dedicated to Fear, and which always used to be shut, but then
by chance was open; and being got in, he shut the door, and lay close.
The other four were killed, and above ten more that came to their
assistance; to those that were quiet they did no harm, stopped none
that fled from the city, and spared Agylaeus, when he came out of the
temple the next day.
The Lacedaemonians have not only sacred places dedicated to Fear, but
also to Death, Laughter, and the like Passions. Now they worship Fear,
not as they do supernatural powers which they dread, esteeming it
hurtful, but thinking their polity is chiefly kept up by fear. And
therefore, the ephors, Aristotle is my author, when they entered upon
their government, made proclamation to the people, that they should
shave their mustaches, and be obedient to the laws, that the laws might
not be hard upon them, making, I suppose, this trivial injunction, to
accustom their youth to obedience even in the smallest matters. And the
ancients, I think, did not imagine bravery to be plain fearlessness,
but a cautious fear of blame and disgrace. For those that show most
timidity towards the laws, are most bold against their enemies; and
those are least afraid of any danger who are most afraid of a just
reproach. Therefore it was well said that
A reverence still attends on fear;
and by Homer,
Feared you shall be, dear father, and revered;
and again,
In silence fearing those that bore the sway;
for the generality of men are most ready to reverence those whom they
fear. And, therefore, the Lacedaemonians placed the temple of Fear by
the Syssitium of the ephors, having raised that magistracy to almost
royal authority.
The next day, Cleomenes proscribed eighty of the citizens, whom he
thought necessary to banish, and removed all the seats of the ephors,
except one, in which he himself designed to sit and give audience; and
calling the citizens together, he made an apology for his proceedings,
saying, that by Lycurgus the council of Elders was joined to the kings,
and that that model of government had continued a long time, and no
other sort of magistrates had been wanted. But afterwards, in the long
war with the Messenians, when the kings, having to command the army,
found no time to administer justice, they chose some of their friends,
and left them to determine the suits of the citizens in their stead.
These were called ephors, and at first behaved themselves as servants
to the kings; but afterwards, by degrees, they appropriated the power
to themselves and erected a distinct magistracy. An evidence of the
truth of this was the custom still observed by the kings, who, when the
ephors send for them, refuse, upon the first and the second summons, to
go, but upon the third, rise up and attend them. And Asteropus, the
first that raised the ephors to that height of power, lived a great
many years after their institution. So long, therefore, he continued,
as they contained themselves within their own proper sphere, it had
been better to bear with them than to make a disturbance. But that an
upstart, introduced power should so far subvert the ancient form of
government as to banish some kings, murder others, without hearing
their defense, and threaten those who desired to see the best and most
divine constitution restored in Sparta, was not to be borne. Therefore,
if it had been possible for him, without bloodshed, to free Lacedaemon
from those foreign plagues, luxury, sumptuosity, debts, and usury, and
from those yet more ancient evils, poverty and riches, he should have
thought himself the happiest king in the world, to have succeeded, like
an expert physician, in curing the diseases of his country without
pain. But now, in this necessity, Lycurgus's example favored his
proceedings, who being neither king nor magistrate, but a private man,
and aiming at the kingdom, came armed into the market-place, so that
king Charillus fled in alarm to the altar. He, being a good man, and a
lover of his country, readily concurred in Lycurgus's designs, and
admitted the revolution in the state. But, by his own actions, Lycurgus
had nevertheless borne witness that it was difficult to change the
government without force and fear, in the use of which he himself, he
said, had been so moderate as to do no more than put out of the way
those who opposed themselves to Sparta's happiness and safety. For the
rest of the nation, he told them, the whole land was now their common
property; debtors should be cleared of their debts, and examination
made of those who were not citizens, that the bravest men might thus be
made free Spartans, and give aid in arms to save the city, and "We" he
said, "may no longer see Laconia, for want of men to defend it, wasted
by the Aetolians and Illyrians."
Then he himself first, with his step-father, Megistonus, and his
friends, gave up all their wealth into one public stock, and all the
other citizens followed the example. The land was divided, and everyone
that he had banished, had a share assigned him; for he promised to
restore all, as soon as things were settled and in quiet. And
completing the number of citizens out of the best and most promising of
the country people, he raised a body of four thousand men; and instead
of a spear, taught them to use a surissu, with both hands, and to carry
their shields by a band, and not by a handle, as before. After this, he
began to consult about the education of the youth, and the Discipline,
as they call it; most of the particulars of which, Sphaerus, being then
at Sparta, assisted in arranging; and, in a short time, the schools of
exercise and the common tables recovered their ancient decency and
order, a few out of necessity, but the most voluntarily, returning to
that generous and Laconic way of living. And, that the name of monarch
might give them no jealousy, he made Euclidas, his brother, partner in
the throne; and that was the only time that Sparta had two kings of the
same family.
Then, understanding that the Achaeans and Aratus imagined that this
change had disturbed and shaken his affairs, and that he would not
venture out of Sparta and leave the city now unsettled in the midst of
so great an alteration, he thought it great and serviceable to his
designs, to show his enemies the zeal and forwardness of his troops.
And, therefore, making an incursion into the territories of
Megalopolis, he wasted the country far and wide, and collected a
considerable booty. And, at last, taking a company of actors, as they
were traveling from Messene, and building a theater in the enemy's
country, and offering a prize of forty minae in value, he sat spectator
a whole day; not that he either desired or needed such amusement, but
wishing to show his disregard for his enemies, and by a display of his
contempt, to prove the extent of his superiority to them. For his
alone, of all the Greek or royal armies, had no stage-players, no
jugglers, no dancing or singing women attending it, but was free from
all sorts of looseness, wantonness, and festivity; the young men being
for the most part at their exercises, and the old men giving them
lessons, or, at leisure times, diverting themselves with their native
jests, and quick Laconian answers; the good results of which we have
noticed in the life of Lycurgus.
He himself instructed all by his example; he was a living pattern of
temperance before every man's eyes; and his course of living was
neither more stately, nor more expensive, nor in any way more
pretentious, than that of any of his people. And this was a
considerable advantage to him in his designs on Greece. For men when
they waited upon other kings, did not so much admire their wealth,
costly furniture, and numerous attendance, as they hated their pride
and state, their difficulty of access, and imperious answers to their
addresses. But when they came to Cleomenes, who was both really a king,
and bore that title, and saw no purple, no robes of state upon him, no
couches and litters about him for his ease, and that he did not receive
requests and return answers after a long delay and difficulty, through
a number of messengers and doorkeepers, or by memorials, but that he
rose and came forward in any dress he might happen to be wearing, to
meet those that came to wait upon him, stayed, talked freely and
affably with all that had business, they were extremely taken, and won
to his service, and professed that he alone was the true son of
Hercules. His common every day's meal was in an ordinary room, very
sparing, and after the Laconic manner; and when he entertained
ambassadors or strangers, two more couches were added, and a little
better dinner provided by his servants, but no savoring sauces or
sweetmeats; only the dishes were larger, and the wine more plentiful.
For he reproved one of his friends for entertaining some strangers with
nothing but barley bread and black broth, such diet as they usually had
in their phiditia; saying, that upon such occasions, and when they
entertained strangers, it was not well to be too exact Laconians. After
the table was removed, a stand was brought in, with a brass vessel full
of wine, two silver bowls which held about a pint apiece, a few silver
cups, of which he that pleased might drink, but wine was not urged on
any of the guests. There was no music, nor was any required; for he
entertained the company himself, sometimes asking questions, sometimes
telling stories; and his conversation was neither too grave or
disagreeably serious, nor yet in any way rude or ungraceful in its
pleasantry. For he thought those ways of entrapping men by gifts and
presents, which other kings use, dishonest and inartificial; and it
seemed to him to be the most noble method, and most suitable to a king,
to win the affections of those that came near him, by personal
intercourse and agreeable conversation, since between a friend and a
mercenary the only distinction is, that we gain the one by one's
character and conversation, the other by one's money.
The Mantineans were the first that requested his aid; and when he
entered their city by night, they aided him to expel the Achaean
garrison, and put themselves under his protection. He restored them
their polity and laws, and the same day marched to Tegea; and a little
while after, fetching a compass through Arcadia, he made a descent upon
Pherae, in Achaea, intending to force Aratus to a battle, or bring him
into disrepute, for refusing to engage, and suffering him to waste the
country. Hyperbatas at that time was general, but Aratus had all the
power amongst the Achaeans. The Achaeans, marching forth with their
whole strength, and encamping in Dymae, near the Hecatombaeum,
Cleomenes came up, and thinking it not advisable to pitch between
Dymae, a city of the enemies, and the camp of the Achaeans, he boldly
dared the Achaeans, and forced them to a battle, and routing their
phalanx, slew a great many in the fight, and took many prisoners, and
thence marching to Langon, and driving out the Achaean garrison, he
restored the city to the Eleans.
The affairs of the Achaeans being in this unfortunate condition,
Aratus, who was wont to take office every other year, refused the
command, though they entreated and urged him to accept it. And this was
ill done, when the storm was high, to put the power out of his own
hands, and set another to the helm. Cleomenes at first proposed fair
and easy conditions by his ambassadors to the Achaeans, but afterward
he sent others, and required the chief command to be settled upon him;
in other matters offering to agree to reasonable terms, and to restore
their captives and their country. The Achaeans were willing to come to
an agreement upon those terms, and invited Cleomenes to Lerna, where an
assembly was to be held; but it happened that Cleomenes, hastily
marching on, and drinking water at a wrong time, brought up a quantity
of blood, and lost his voice; therefore being unable to continue his
journey, he sent the chiefest of the captives to the Achaeans, and,
putting off the meeting for some time, retired to Lacedaemon.
This ruined the affairs of Greece, which was just beginning in some
sort to recover from its disasters, and to show some capability of
delivering itself from the insolence and rapacity of the Macedonians.
For Aratus, (whether fearing or distrusting Cleomenes, or envying his
unlooked-for success, or thinking it a disgrace for him who had
commanded thirty-three years, to have a young man succeed to all his
glory and his power, and be head of that government which he had been
raising and settling so many years,) first endeavored to keep the
Achaeans from closing with Cleomenes; but when they would not hearken
to him, fearing Cleomenes's daring spirit, and thinking the
Lacedaemonians' proposals to be very reasonable, who designed only to
reduce Peloponnesus to its old model, upon this he took his last refuge
in an action which was unbecoming any of the Greeks, most dishonorable
to him, and most unworthy his former bravery and exploits. For he
called Antigonus into Greece, and filled Peloponnesus with Macedonians,
whom he himself, when a youth, having beaten their garrison out of the
castle of Corinth, had driven from the same country. And there had been
constant suspicion and variance between him and all the kings, and of
Antigonus, in particular, he has said a thousand dishonorable things in
the commentaries he has left behind him. And though he declares himself
how he suffered considerable losses, and underwent great dangers, that
he might free Athens from the garrison of the Macedonians, yet,
afterwards, he brought the very same men armed into his own country,
and his own house, even to the women's apartment. He would not endure
that one of the family of Hercules, and king of Sparta, and one that
had reformed the polity of his country, as it were, from a disordered
harmony, and retuned it to the plain Doric measure and rule of life of
Lycurgus, should be styled head of the Tritaeans and Sicyonians; and
whilst he fled the barley-cake and coarse coat, and which were his
chief accusations against Cleomenes, the extirpation of wealth and
reformation of poverty, he basely subjected himself, together with
Achaea, to the diadem and purple, to the imperious commands of the
Macedonians and their satraps. That he might not seem to be under
Cleomenes, he offered sacrificers, called Antigonea, in honor of
Antigonus, and sang paeans himself, with a garland on his head, to the
praise of a wasted, consumptive Macedonian. I write this not out of any
design to disgrace Aratus, for in many things he showed himself a true
lover of Greece, and a great man, but out of pity to the weakness of
human nature, which in characters like this, so worthy and in so many
ways disposed to virtue, cannot maintain its honors unblemished by some
envious fault.
The Achaeans meeting again in assembly at Argos, and Cleomenes having
come from Tegea, there were great hopes that all differences would be
composed. But Aratus, Antigonus and he having already agreed upon the
chief articles of their league, fearing that Cleomenes would carry all
before him, and either win or force the multitude to comply with his
demands, proposed, that having three hundred hostages put into his
hands, he should come alone into the town, or bring his army to the
place of exercise, called the Cyllarabium, outside the city, and treat
there.
Cleomenes, hearing this, said, that he was unjustly dealt with; for
they ought to have told him so plainly at first, and not now he was
come even to their doors, show their jealousy, and deny him admission.
And writing a letter to the Achaeans about the same subject, the
greatest part of which was an accusation of Aratus, while Aratus, on
the other side, spoke violently against him to the assembly, he hastily
dislodged, and sent a trumpeter to denounce war against the Achaeans,
not to Argos, but to Aegium, as Aratus writes, that he might not give
them notice enough to make provision for their defense. There had also
been a movement among the Achaeans themselves, and the cities were
eager for revolt; the common people expecting a division of the land,
and a release from their debts, and the chief men being in many places
ill-disposed to Aratus, and some of them angry and indignant with him,
for having brought the Macedonians into Peloponnesus. Encouraged by
these misunderstandings, Cleomenes invaded Achaea, and first took
Pellene by surprise, and beat out the Achaean garrison, and afterwards
brought over Pheneus and Penteleum to his side. Now the Achaeans,
suspecting some treacherous designs at Corinth and Sicyon, sent their
horse and mercenaries out of Argos, to have an eye upon those cities,
and they themselves went to Argos, to celebrate the Nemean games.
Cleomenes, advertised of this march, and hoping, as it afterward fell
out, that upon an unexpected advance to the city, now busied in the
solemnity of the games, and thronged with numerous spectators, he
should raise a considerable terror and confusion amongst them, by night
marched with his army to the walls, and taking the quarter of the town
called Aspis, which lies above the theater, well fortified, and hard to
be approached, he so terrified them that none offered to resist, but
they agreed to accept a garrison, to give twenty citizens for hostages,
and to assist the Lacedaemonians, and that he should have the chief
command.
This action considerably increased his reputation and his power; for
the ancient Spartan kings, though they many ways endeavored to effect
it, could never bring Argos to be permanently theirs. And Pyrrhus, the
most experienced captain, though he entered the city by force, could
not keep possession, but was slain himself, with a considerable part of
his army. Therefore they admired the dispatch and contrivance of
Cleomenes; and those that before derided him, for imitating, as they
said, Solon and Lycurgus, in releasing the people from their debts, and
in equalizing the property of the citizens, were now fain to admit that
this was the cause of the change in the Spartans. For before they were
very low in the world, and so unable to secure their own, that the
Aetolians, invading Laconia, brought away fifty thousand slaves; so
that one of the elder Spartans is reported to have said, that they had
done Laconia a kindness by unburdening it; and yet a little while
after, by merely recurring once again to their native customs, and
reentering the track of the ancient discipline, they were able to give,
as though it had been under the eyes and conduct of Lycurgus himself,
the most signal instances of courage and obedience, raising Sparta to
her ancient place as the commanding state of Greece, and recovering all
Peloponnesus.
When Argos was captured, and Cleonae and Phlius came over, as they did
at once, to Cleomenes, Aratus was at Corinth, searching after some who
were reported to favor the Spartan interest. The news, being brought to
him, disturbed him very much; for he perceived the city inclining to
Cleomenes, and willing to be rid of the Achaeans. Therefore he summoned
the citizens to meet in the Council Hall, and slipping away without
being observed to the gate, he mounted his horse that had been brought
for him thither, and fled to Sicyon. And the Corinthians made such
haste to Cleomenes at Argos, that, as Aratus says, striving who should
be first there, they spoiled all their horses; he adds that Cleomenes
was very angry with the Corinthians for letting him escape; and that
Megistonus came from Cleomenes to him, desiring him to deliver up the
castle at Corinth, which was then garrisoned by the Achaeans, and
offered him a considerable sum of money, and that he answered, that
matters were not now in his power, but he in theirs. Thus Aratus
himself writes. But Cleomenes, marching from Argos, and taking in the
Troezenians, Epidaurians, and Hermioneans, came to Corinth, and blocked
up the castle, which the Achaeans would not surrender; and sending for
Aratus's friends and stewards, committed his house and estate to their
care and management; and sent Tritymallus, the Messenian, to him a
second time, desiring that the castle might be equally garrisoned by
the Spartans and Achaeans, and promising to Aratus himself double the
pension that he received from king Ptolemy. But Aratus, refusing the
conditions, and sending his own son with the other hostages to
Antigonus, and persuading the Achaeans to make a decree for delivering
the castle into Antigonus's hands, upon this Cleomenes invaded the
territory of the Sicyonians, and by a decree of the Corinthians,
accepted Aratus's estate as a gift.
In the meantime, Antigonus, with a great army, was passing Geranea; and
Cleomenes, thinking it more advisable to fortify and garrison, not the
isthmus, but the mountains called Onea, and by a war of posts and
positions to weary the Macedonians, rather than to venture a set battle
with the highly disciplined phalanx, put his design in execution, and
very much distressed Antigonus. For he had not brought victuals
sufficient for his army; nor was it easy to force a way through, whilst
Cleomenes guarded the pass. He attempted by night to pass through
Lechaeum, but failed, and lost some men; so that Cleomenes and his army
were mightily encouraged, and so flushed with the victory, that they
went merrily to supper; and Antigonus was very much dejected, being
driven, by the necessity he was in, to most unpromising attempts. He
was proposing to march to the promontory of Heraeum, and thence
transport his army in boats to Sicyon, which would take up a great deal
of time, and require much preparation and means. But when it was now
evening, some of Aratus's friends came from Argos by sea, and invited
him to return, for the Argives would revolt from Cleomenes. Aristoteles
was the man that wrought the revolt, and he had no hard task to
persuade the common people; for they were all angry with Cleomenes for
not releasing them from their debts as they expected. Accordingly,
obtaining fifteen hundred of Antigonus's soldiers, Aratus sailed to
Epidaurus; but Aristoteles, not staying for his coming, drew out the
citizens, and fought against the garrison of the castle; and Timoxenus,
with the Achaeans from Sicyon, came to his assistance.
Cleomenes heard the news about the second watch of the night, and
sending for Megistonus, angrily commanded him to go and set things
right at Argos. Megistonus had passed his word for the Argives'
loyalty, and had persuaded him not to banish the suspected. Therefore,
dispatching him with two thousand soldiers, he himself kept watch upon
Antigonus, and encouraged the Corinthians, pretending that there was no
great matter in the commotions at Argos, but only a little disturbance
raised by a few inconsiderable persons. But when Megistonus, entering
Argos, was slain, and the garrison could scarce hold out, and frequent
messengers came to Cleomenes for succors, he, fearing least the enemy,
having taken Argos, should shut up the passes, and securely waste
Laconia, and besiege Sparta itself, which he had left without forces,
dislodged from Corinth, and immediately lost that city; for Antigonus
entered it, and garrisoned the town. He turned aside from his direct
march, and assaulting the walls of Argos, endeavored to carry it by a
sudden attack and then, having collected his forces from their march,
breaking into the Aspis, he joined the garrison, which still held out
against the Achaeans; some parts of the city he scaled and took, and
his Cretan archers cleared the streets. But when he saw Antigonus with
his phalanx descending from the mountains into the plain, and the horse
on all sides entering the city, he thought it impossible to maintain
his post, and, gathering together all his men, came safely down, and
made his retreat under the walls, having in so short a time possessed
himself of great power, and in one journey, so to say, having made
himself master of almost all Peloponnesus, and now lost all again in as
short a time. For some of his allies at once withdrew and forsook him,
and others not long after put their cities under Antigonus's
protection. His hopes thus defeated, as he was leading back the relics
of his forces, messengers from Lacedaemon met him in the evening at
Tegea, and brought him, news of as great a misfortune as that which he
had lately suffered, and this was the death of his wife, to whom he was
so attached, and thought so much of her, that even in his most
successful expeditions, when he was most prosperous, he could not
refrain, but would ever now and then come home to Sparta, to visit
Agiatis.
This news afflicted him extremely, and he grieved, as a young man would
do, for the loss of a very beautiful and excellent wife; yet he did not
let his passion disgrace him, or impair the greatness of his mind, but
keeping his usual voice, his countenance, and his habit, he gave
necessary orders to his captains, and took the precautions required for
the safety of Tegea. Next morning he came to Sparta, and having at home
with his mother and children bewailed the loss, and finished his
mourning, he at once devoted himself to the public affairs of the state.
Now Ptolemy, the king of Egypt, promised him assistance, but demanded
his mother and children for hostages. This, for some considerable time,
he was ashamed to discover to his mother; and though he often went to
her on purpose, and was just upon the discourse, yet he still
refrained, and kept it to himself; so that she began to suspect, and
asked his friends, whether Cleomenes had something to say to her, which
he was afraid to speak. At last, Cleomenes venturing to tell her, she
laughed aloud, and said, "Was this the thing that you had so often a
mind to tell me, and were afraid? Make haste and put me on shipboard,
and send this carcass where it may be most serviceable to Sparta,
before age destroys it unprofitably here." Therefore, all things being
provided for the voyage, they went by land to Taenarus, and the army
waited on them. Cratesiclea, when she was ready to go on board, took
Cleomenes aside into Neptune's temple, and embracing him, who was much
dejected, and extremely discomposed, she said, "Go to, king of Sparta;
when we come forth at the door, let none see us weep, or show any
passion that is unworthy of Sparta, for that alone is in our own power;
as for success or disappointment, those wait on us as the deity
decrees." Having thus said, and composed her countenance, she went to
the ship with her little grandson, and bade the pilot put at once out
to sea. When she came to Egypt, and understood that Ptolemy entertained
proposals and overtures of peace from Antigonus, and that Cleomenes,
though the Achaeans invited and urged him to an agreement, was afraid,
for her sake, to come to any, without Ptolemy's consent, she wrote to
him, advising him to do that which was most becoming and most
profitable for Sparta, and not, for the sake of an old woman and a
little child, stand always in fear of Ptolemy. This character she
maintained in her misfortunes.
Antigonus, having taken Tegea, and plundered Orchomenus and Mantinea,
Cleomenes was shut up within the narrow bounds of Laconia; and making
such of the helots as could pay five Attic pounds, free of Sparta, and,
by that means, getting together five hundred talents, and arming two
thousand after the Macedonian fashion, that he might make a body fit to
oppose Antigonus's Leucaspides he undertook a great and unexpected
enterprise. Megalopolis was at that time a city of itself as great and
as powerful as Sparta, and had the forces of the Achaeans and of
Antigonus encamping beside it; and it was chiefly the Megalopolitans'
doing, that Antigonus had been called in to assist the Achaeans.
Cleomenes, resolving to snatch the city (no other word so well suits so
rapid and so surprising an action), ordered his men to take five days'
provision, and marched to Sellasia, as if he intended to ravage the
country of the Argives; but from thence making a descent into the
territories of Megalopolis, and refreshing his army about Rhoeteum, he
suddenly took the road by Helicus, and advanced directly upon the city.
When he was not far off the town, he sent Panteus, with two regiments,
to surprise a portion of the wall between two towers, which he learnt
to be the most unguarded quarter of the Megalopolitans' fortifications,
and with the rest of his forces he followed leisurely. Panteus not only
succeeded at that point, but finding a great part of the wall without
guards, he at once proceeded to pull it down in some places, and make
openings through it in others, and killed all the defenders that he
found. Whilst he was thus busied, Cleomenes came up to him, and was got
with his army within the city, before the Megalopolitans knew of the
surprise. When, after some time, they learned their misfortune, some
left the town immediately, taking with them what property they could;
others armed, and engaged the enemy; and through they were not able to
beat them out, yet they gave their citizens time and opportunity safely
to retire, so that there were not above one thousand persons taken in
the town, all the rest flying, with their wives and children, and
escaping to Messene. The greater number, also, of those that armed and
fought the enemy, were saved, and very few taken, amongst whom were
Lysandridas and Thearidas, two men of great power and reputation
amongst the Megalopolitans; and therefore the soldiers, as soon as they
were taken, brought them to Cleomenes. And Lysandridas, as soon as he
saw Cleomenes afar off, cried out, "Now, king of Sparta, it is in your
power, by doing a most kingly and a nobler action than you have already
performed, to purchase the greatest glory." And Cleomenes, guessing at
his meaning, replied, "What, Lysandridas, you will not surely advise me
to restore your city to you again?" "It is that which I mean,"
Lysandridas replied, "and I advise you not to ruin so brave a city, but
to fill it with faithful and steadfast friends and allies, by restoring
their country to the Megalopolitans, and being the savior of so
considerable a people." Cleomenes paused a while, and then said, "It is
very hard to trust so far in these matters; but with us let profit
always yield to glory." Having said this, he sent the two men to
Messene with a herald from himself, offering the Megalopolitans their
city again, if they would forsake the Achaean interest, and be on his
side. But though Cleomenes made these generous and humane proposals,
Philopoemen would not suffer them to break their league with the
Achaeans; and accusing Cleomenes to the people, as if his design was
not to restore the city, but to take the citizens too, he forced
Thearidas and Lysandridas to leave Messene.
This was that Philopoemen who was afterward chief of the Achaeans and a
man of the greatest reputation amongst the Greeks, as I have refuted in
his own life. This news coming to Cleomenes, though he had before taken
strict care that the city should not be plundered, yet then, being in
anger, and out of all patience, he despoiled the place of all the
valuables, and sent the statues and pictures to Sparta; and demolishing
a great part of the city, he marched away for fear of Antigonus and the
Achaeans; but they never stirred, for they were at Aegium, at a council
of war. There Aratus mounted the speaker's place, and wept a long
while, holding his mantle before his face; and at last, the company
being amazed, and commanding him to speak, he said, "Megalopolis is
destroyed by Cleomenes." The assembly instantly dissolved, the Achaeans
being astounded at the suddenness and greatness of the loss; and
Antigonus, intending to send speedy succors, when he found his forces
gather very slowly out of their winter-quarters, sent them orders to
continue there still; and he himself marched to Argos with a small body
of men. And now the second enterprise of Cleomenes, though it had the
look of a desperate and frantic adventure, yet in Polybius's opinion,
was done with mature deliberation and great foresight. For knowing very
well that the Macedonians were dispersed into their winter-quarters,
and that Antigonus with his friends and a few mercenaries about him
wintered in Argos, upon these considerations he invaded the country of
the Argives, hoping to shame Antigonus to a battle upon unequal terms,
or else, if he did not dare to fight, to bring him into disrepute with
the Achaeans. And this accordingly happened. For Cleomenes wasting,
plundering, and spoiling the whole country, the Argives, in grief and
anger at the loss, gathered in crowds at the king's gates, crying out
that he should either fight, or surrender his command to better and
braver men. But Antigonus, as became an experienced captain, accounting
it rather dishonorable foolishly to hazard his army and quit his
security, than merely to be railed at by other people, would not march
out against Cleomenes, but stood firm to his convictions. Cleomenes, in
the meantime, brought his army up to the very walls, and having without
opposition spoiled the country, and insulted over his enemies, drew off
again.
A little while after, being informed that Antigonus designed a new
advance to Tegea, and thence to invade Laconia, he rapidly took his
soldiers, and marching by a side road, appeared early in the morning
before Argos, and wasted the fields about it. The corn he did not cut
down, as is usual, with reaping hooks and knives, but beat it down with
great wooden staves made like broadswords, as if, in mere contempt and
wanton scorn, while traveling on his way, without any effort or
trouble, he spoiled and destroyed their harvest. Yet when his soldiers
would have set Cyllabaris, the exercise ground, on fire, he stopped the
attempt, as if he felt, that the mischief he had done at Megalopolis
had been the effects of his passion rather than his wisdom. And when
Antigonus, first of all, came hastily back to Argos, and then occupied
the mountains and passes with his posts, he professed to disregard and
despise it all; and sent heralds to ask for the keys of the temple of
Juno, as though he proposed to offer sacrifice there and then return.
And with this scornful pleasantry upon Antigonus, having sacrificed to
the goddess under the walls of the temple, which was shut, he went to
Phlius; and from thence driving out those that garrisoned Oligyrtus, he
marched down to Orchomenus. And these enterprises not only encouraged
the citizens, but made him appear to the very enemies to be a man
worthy of high command, and capable of great things. For with the
strength of one city, not only to fight the power of the Macedonians
and all the Peloponnesians, supported by all the royal treasures, not
only to preserve Laconia from being spoiled, but to waste the enemy's
country, and to take so many and such considerable cities, was an
argument of no common skill and genius for command.
But he that first said that money was the sinews of affairs, seems
especially in that saying to refer to war. Demades, when the Athenians
had voted that their galleys should be launched and equipped for
action, but could produce no money, told them, "The baker was wanted
first, and the pilot after." And the old Archidamus, in the beginning
of the Peloponnesian war, when the allies desired that the amount of
their contributions should be determined, is reported to have answered,
that war cannot be fed upon so much a day. For as wrestlers, who have
thoroughly trained and disciplined their bodies, in time tire down and
exhaust the most agile and most skillful combatant, so Antigonus,
coming to the war with great resources to spend from, wore out
Cleomenes, whose poverty made it difficult for him to provide the
merest sufficiency of pay for the mercenaries, or of provisions for the
citizens. For, in all other respects, time favored Cleomenes; for
Antigonus's affairs at home began to be disturbed. For the barbarians
wasted and overran Macedonia whilst he was absent, and at that
particular time a vast army of Illyrians had entered the country; to be
freed from whose devastations, the Macedonians sent for Antigonus, and
the letters had almost been brought to him before the battle was
fought; upon the receipt of which he would at once have marched away
home, and left the Achaeans to look to themselves. But Fortune, that
loves to determine the greatest affairs by a minute, in this
conjuncture showed such an exact niceness of time, that immediately
after the battle in Sellasia was over, and Cleomenes had lost his army
and his city, the messengers came up and called for Antigonus. And this
above everything made Cleomenes's misfortune to be pitied; for if he
had gone on retreating and had forborne fighting two days longer, there
had been no need of hazarding a battle; since upon the departure of the
Macedonians, he might have had what conditions he pleased from the
Achaeans. But now, as was said before, for want of money, being
necessitated to trust everything to arms, he was forced with twenty
thousand (such is Polybius's account) to engage thirty thousand. And
approving himself an admirable commander in this difficulty, his
citizens showing an extraordinary courage, and his mercenaries bravery
enough, he was overborne by the different way of fighting, and the
weight of the heavy-armed phalanx. Phylarchus also affirms, that the
treachery of some about him was the chief cause of Cleomenes's ruin.
For Antigonus gave orders, that the Illyrians and Acarnanians should
march round by a secret way, and encompass the other wing, which
Euclidas, Cleomenes's brother, commanded; and then drew out the rest of
his forces to the battle. And Cleomenes, from a convenient rising,
viewing his order, and not seeing any of the Illyrians and Acarnanians,
began to suspect that Antigonus had sent them upon some such design,
and calling for Damoteles, who was at the head of those specially
appointed to such ambush duty, he bade him carefully to look after and
discover the enemy's designs upon his rear. But Damoteles, for some say
Antigonus had bribed him, telling him that he should not be solicitous
about that matter, for all was well enough, but mind and fight those
that met him in the front, he was satisfied, and advanced against
Antigonus; and by the vigorous charge of his Spartans, made the
Macedonian phalanx give ground, and pressed upon them with great
advantage about half a mile; but then making a stand, and seeing the
danger which the surrounded wing, commanded by his brother Euclidas,
was in, he cried out, "Thou art lost, dear brother, thou art lost, thou
brave example to our Spartan youth, and theme of our matrons' songs."
And Euclidas's wing being cut in pieces, and the conquerors from that
part falling upon him, he perceived his soldiers to be disordered, and
unable to maintain the fight, and therefore provided for his own
safety. There fell, we are told, in the battle, besides many of the
mercenary soldiers, all the Spartans, six thousand in number, except
two hundred.
When Cleomenes came into the city, he advised those citizens that he
met to receive Antigonus; and as for himself, he said, which should
appear most advantageous to Sparta, whether his life or death, that he
would choose. Seeing the women running out to those that had fled with
him, taking their arms, and bringing drink to them, he entered into his
own house, and his servant, who was a freeborn woman, taken from
Megalopolis after his wife's death, offering, as usual, to do the
service he needed on returning from war, though he was very thirsty, he
refused to drink, and though very weary, to sit down; but in his
corselet as he was, he laid his arm sideways against a pillar, and
leaning his forehead upon his elbow, he rested his body a little while,
and ran over in his thoughts all the courses he could take; and then
with his friends set on at once for Gythium; where finding ships which
had been got ready for this very purpose, they embarked. Antigonus,
taking the city, treated the Lacedaemonians courteously, and in no way
offering any insult or offense to the dignity of Sparta, but permitting
them to enjoy their own laws and polity, and sacrificing to the gods,
dislodged the third day. For he heard that there was a great war in
Macedonia, and that the country was devastated by the barbarians.
Besides, his malady had now thoroughly settled into a consumption and
continual catarrh. Yet he still kept up, and managed to return and
deliver his country, and meet there a more glorious death in a great
defeat and vast slaughter of the barbarians. As Phylarchus says, and as
is probable in itself, he broke a blood vessel by shouting in the
battle itself. In the schools we used to be told, that after the
victory was won, he cried out for joy, "O glorious day!" and presently
bringing up a quantity of blood, fell into a fever, which never left
him till his death. And thus much concerning Antigonus.
Cleomenes, sailing from Cythera, touched at another island called
Aegialia, whence as he was about to depart for Cyrene, one of his
friends, Therycion by name, a man of a noble spirit in all enterprises,
and bold and lofty in his talk, came privately to him, and said thus:
"Sir, death in battle, which is the most glorious, we have let go;
though all heard us say that Antigonus should never tread over the king
of Sparta, unless dead. And now that course which is next in honor and
virtue, is presented to us. Whither do we madly sail, flying the evil
which is near, to seek that which is at a distance? For if it is not
dishonorable for the race of Hercules to serve the successors of Philip
and Alexander, we shall save a long voyage by delivering ourselves up
to Antigonus, who, probably, is as much better than Ptolemy, as the
Macedonians are better than the Egyptians; but if we think it mean to
submit to those whose arms have conquered us, why should we choose him
for our master, by whom we have not yet been beaten? Is it to
acknowledge two superiors instead of one, whilst we run away from
Antigonus, and flatter Ptolemy? Or, is it for your mother's sake that
you retreat to Egypt? It will indeed be a very fine and very desirable
sight for her, to show her son to Ptolemy's women, now changed from a
prince into an exile and a slave. Are we not still masters of our own
swords? And whilst we have Laconia in view, shall we not here free
ourselves from this disgraceful misery, and clear ourselves to those
who at Sellasia died for the honor and defense of Sparta? Or, shall we
sit lazily in Egypt, inquiring what news from Sparta, and whom
Antigonus hath been pleased to make governor of Lacedaemon?" Thus spoke
Therycion; and this was Cleomenes's reply: "By seeking death, you
coward, the most easy and most ready refuge, you fancy that you shall
appear courageous and brave, though this flight is baser than the
former. Better men than we have given way to their enemies, having been
betrayed by fortune, or oppressed by multitude; but he that gives way
under labor or distresses, under the ill opinions or reports of men,
yields the victory to his own effeminacy. For a voluntary death ought
not to be chosen as a relief from action, but as an exemplary action
itself; and it is base either to live or to die only to ourselves. That
death to which you now invite us, is proposed only as a release from
our present miseries, but carries nothing of nobleness or profit in it.
And I think it becomes both me and you not to despair of our country;
but when there are no hopes of that left, those that have an
inclination may quickly die." To this Therycion returned no answer but
as soon as he had an opportunity of leaving Cleomenes's company, went
aside on the sea-shore, and ran himself through.
But Cleomenes sailed from Aegialia, landed in Libya, and being
honorably conducted through the king's country, came to Alexandria.
When he was first brought to Ptolemy, no more than common civilities
and usual attentions were paid him; but when, upon trial, he found him
a man of deep sense and great reason, and that his plain Laconic way of
conversation carried with it a noble and becoming grace, that he did
nothing unbecoming his birth, nor bent under fortune, and was evidently
a more faithful counselor than those who made it their business to
please and flatter, he was ashamed, and repented that he had neglected
so great a man, and suffered Antigonus to get so much power and
reputation by ruining him. He now offered him many marks of respect and
kindness, and gave him hopes that he would furnish him with ships and
money to return to Greece, and would reinstate him in his kingdom. He
granted him a yearly pension of four and twenty talents; a little part
of which sum supplied his and his friends' thrifty temperance; and the
rest was employed in doing good offices to, and in relieving the
necessities of the refugees that had fled from Greece, and retired into
Egypt.
But the elder Ptolemy dying before Cleomenes's affairs had received a
full dispatch, and the successor being a loose, voluptuous, and
effeminate prince, under the power of his pleasures and his women, his
business was neglected. For the king was so besotted with his women and
his wine, that the employments of his most busy and serious hours
consisted at the utmost in celebrating religious feasts in his palace,
carrying a timbrel, and taking part in the show; while the greatest
affairs of state were managed by Agathoclea, the king's mistress, her
mother, and the pimp Oenanthes. At the first, indeed, they seemed to
stand in need of Cleomenes; for Ptolemy, being afraid of his brother
Magas, who by his mother's means had a great interest amongst the
soldiers, gave Cleomenes a place in his secret councils, and acquainted
him with the design of taking off his brother. He, though all were for
it, declared his opinion to the contrary, saying, "The king, if it were
possible, should have more brothers for the better security and
stability of his affairs." And Sosibius, the greatest favorite,
replying, that they were not secure of the mercenaries whilst Magas was
alive, Cleomenes returned, that he need not trouble himself about that
matter; for amongst the mercenaries there were above three thousand
Peloponnesians, who were his fast friends, and whom he could command at
any time with a nod. This discourse made Cleomenes for the present to
be looked upon as a man of great influence and assured fidelity; but
afterwards, Ptolemy's weakness increasing his fear, and he, as it
usually happens, where there is no judgment and wisdom, placing his
security in general distrust and suspicion, it rendered Cleomenes
suspected to the courtiers, as having too much interest with the
mercenaries; and many had this saying in their mouths, that he was a
lion amidst a flock of sheep. For, in fact, such he seemed to be in the
court, quietly watching, and keeping his eye upon all that went on.
He, therefore, gave up all thought of asking for ships and soldiers
from the king. But receiving news that Antigonus was dead, that the
Achaeans were engaged in a war with the Aetolians, and that the affairs
of Peloponnesus, being now in very great distraction and disorder,
required and invited his assistance, he desired leave to depart only
with his friends, but could not obtain that, the king not so much as
hearing his petition, being shut up amongst his women, and wasting his
hours in bacchanalian rites and drinking parties. But Sosibius, the
chief minister and counselor of state, thought that Cleomenes, being
detained against his will, would grow ungovernable and dangerous, and
yet that it was not safe to let him go, being an aspiring, daring man,
and well acquainted with the diseases and weakness of the kingdom. For
neither could presents and gifts conciliate or content him; but even as
Apis, while living in all possible plenty and apparent delight, yet
desires to live as nature would provide for him, to range at liberty,
and bound about the fields, and can scarce endure to be under the
priests' keeping, so he could not brook their courtship and soft
entertainment, but sat like Achilles,
and languished far,
Desiring battle and the shout of war.
His affairs standing in this condition, Nicagoras, the Messenian, came
to Alexandria, a man that deeply hated Cleomenes, yet pretended to be
his friend; for he had formerly sold Cleomenes a fair estate, but never
received the money, because Cleomenes was either unable, as it may be,
or else, by reason of his engagement in the wars and other
distractions, had no opportunity to pay him. Cleomenes, seeing him
landing, for he was then walking upon the quay, kindly saluted him, and
asked what business brought him to Egypt. Nicagoras returned his
compliment, and told him, that he came to bring some excellent
war-horses to the king. And Cleomenes, with a smile, subjoined, "I
could wish you had rather brought young boys and music-girls; for those
now are the king's chief occupation." Nicagoras at the moment smiled at
the conceit; but a few days after, he put Cleomenes in mind of the
estate that he had bought of him, and desired his money, protesting,
that he would not have troubled him, if his merchandise had turned out
as profitable as he had thought it would. Cleomenes replied, that he
had nothing left of all that had been given him. At which answer,
Nicagoras, being nettled, told Sosibius Cleomenes's scoff upon the
king. He was delighted to receive the information; but desiring to have
some greater reason to excite the king against Cleomenes, persuaded
Nicagoras to leave a letter written against Cleomenes, importing that
he had a design, if he could have gotten ships and soldiers, to
surprise Cyrene. Nicagoras wrote such a letter and left Egypt. Four
days after, Sosibius brought the letter to Ptolemy, pretending it was
just then delivered him, and excited the young man's fear and anger;
upon which it was agreed, that Cleomenes should be invited into a large
house, and treated as formerly, but not suffered to go out again.
This usage was grievous to Cleomenes, and another incident that
occurred, made him feel his hopes to be yet more entirely overcast.
Ptolemy, the son of Chrysermas, a favorite of the king's, had always
shown civility to Cleomenes; there was a considerable intimacy between
them, and they had been used to talk freely together about the state.
He, upon Cleomenes's desire, came to him, and spoke to him in fair
terms, softening down his suspicions and excusing the king's conduct.
But as he went out again, not knowing that Cleomenes followed him to
the door, he severely reprimanded the keepers for their carelessness in
looking after "so great and so furious a wild beast." This Cleomenes
himself heard, and retiring before Ptolemy perceived it, told his
friends what had been said. Upon this they cast off all their former
hopes, and determined for violent proceedings, resolving to be revenged
on Ptolemy for his base and unjust dealing, to have satisfaction for
the affronts, to die as it became Spartans, and not stay till, like
fatted sacrifices, they were butchered. For it was both grievous and
dishonorable for Cleomenes, who had scorned to come to terms with
Antigonus, a brave warrior, and a man of action, to wait an effeminate
king's leisure, till he should lay aside his timbrel and end his dance,
and then kill him.
These courses being resolved on, and Ptolemy happening at the same time
to make a progress to Canopus, they first spread abroad a report, that
his freedom was ordered by the king, and, it being the custom for the
king to send presents and an entertainment to those whom he would free,
Cleomenes's friends made that provision, and sent it into the prison,
thus imposing upon the keepers, who thought it had been sent by the
king. For he sacrificed, and gave them large portions, and with a
garland upon his head, feasted and made merry with his friends. It is
said that he began the action sooner than he designed, having
understood that a servant who was privy to the plot, had gone out to
visit a mistress that he loved. This made him afraid of a discovery;
and therefore, as soon as it was full noon, and all the keepers
sleeping off their wine, he put on his coat, and opening the seam to
bare his right shoulder, with his drawn sword in his hand, he issued
forth, together with his friends, provided in the same manner, making
thirteen in all. One of them, by name Hippitas, was lame, and followed
the first onset very well, but when he presently perceived that they
were more slow in their advances for his sake, he desired them to run
him through, and not ruin their enterprise by staying for an useless,
unprofitable man. By chance an Alexandrian was then riding by the door;
him they threw off, and setting Hippitas on horseback, ran through the
streets, and proclaimed liberty to the people. But they, it seems, had
courage enough to praise and admire Cleomenes's daring, but not one had
the heart to follow and assist him. Three of them fell on Ptolemy, the
son of Chrysermas, as he was coming out of the palace, and killed him.
Another Ptolemy, the officer in charge of the city, advancing against
them in a chariot, they set upon, dispersed his guards and attendants,
and pulling him out of the chariot, killed him upon the place. Then
they made toward the castle, designing to break open the prison,
release those who were confined, and avail themselves of their numbers;
but the keepers were too quick for them, and secured the passages.
Being baffled in this attempt, Cleomenes with his company roamed about
the city, none joining with him, but all retreating from and flying his
approach. Therefore, despairing of success, and saying to his friends,
that it was no wonder that women ruled over men that were afraid of
liberty, he bade them all die as bravely as became his followers and
their own past actions. This said, Hippitas was first, as he desired,
run through by one of the younger men, and then each of them readily
and resolutely fell upon his own sword, except Panteus, the same who
first surprised Megalopolis. This man, being; of a very handsome
person, and a great lover of the Spartan discipline, the king had made
his dearest friend; and he now bade him, when he had seen him and the
rest fallen, die by their example. Panteus walked over them as they
lay, and pricked everyone with his dagger, to try whether any was
alive, when he pricked Cleomenes in the ankle, and saw him turn upon
his back, he kissed him, sat down by him, and when he was quite dead,
covered up the body, and then killed himself over it.
Thus fell Cleomenes, after the life which we have narrated, having been
king of Sparta sixteen years. The news of their fall being noised
through the city, Cratesiclea, though a woman of a great spirit, could
not bear up against the weight of this affliction; but embracing
Cleomenes's children, broke out into lamentations. But the eldest boy,
none suspecting such a spirit in a child, threw himself headlong from
the top of the house. He was bruised very much, but not killed by the
fall, and was taken up crying, and expressing his resentment for not
being permitted to destroy himself. Ptolemy, as soon as an account of
the action was brought him, gave order that Cleomenes's body should be
flayed and hung up, and that his children, mother, and the women that
were with her, should be killed. Amongst these was Panteus's wife, a
beautiful and noble-looking woman, who had been but lately married, and
suffered these disasters in the height of her love. Her parents would
not have her embark with Panteus, so shortly after they were married,
though she eagerly desired it, but shut her up, and kept her forcibly
at home. But a few days after, she procured a horse and a little money,
and escaping by night, made speed to Taenarus, where she embarked for
Egypt, came to her husband, and with him cheerfully endured to live in
a foreign country. She gave her hand to Cratesiclea, as she was going
with the soldiers to execution, held up her robe, and begged her to be
courageous; who of herself was not in the least afraid of death, and
desired nothing else but only to be killed before the children. When
they were come to the place of execution, the children were first
killed before Cratesiclea's eyes, and afterward she herself, with only
these words in her mouth, "O children, whither are you gone?" But
Panteus's wife, fastening her dress close about her, and being a strong
woman, in silence and perfect composure, looked after every one that
was slain, and laid them decently out as far as circumstances would
permit; and after all were killed, rearraying her dress, and drawing
her clothes close about her, and suffering none to come near or be an
eyewitness of her fall, besides the executioner, she courageously
submitted to the stroke, and wanted nobody to look after her or wind
her up after she was dead. Thus in her death the modesty of her mind
appeared, and set that guard upon her body which she always kept when
alive. And she, in the declining age of the Spartans, showed that women
were no unequal rivals of the men, and was an instance of a courage
superior to the affronts of fortune.
A few days after, those that watched the hanging body of Cleomenes, saw
a large snake winding about his head, and covering his face, so that no
bird of prey would fly at it. This made the king superstitiously
afraid, and set the women upon several expiations, as if he had been
some extraordinary being, and one beloved by the gods, that had been
slain. And the Alexandrians made processions to the place, and gave
Cleomenes the title of hero, and son of the gods, till the philosophers
satisfied them by saying, that as oxen breed bees, putrefying horses
breed wasps, and beetles rise from the carcasses of dead asses, so the
humors and juices of the marrow of a man's body, coagulating, produce
serpents. And this the ancients observing, appropriated a serpent,
rather than any other creature to heroes.
TIBERIUS GRACCHUS
Having completed the first two narratives, we now may proceed to take a
view of misfortunes, not less remarkable, in the Roman couple, and with
the lives of Agis and Cleomenes, compare these of Tiberius and Caius.
They were the sons of Tiberius Gracchus, who, though he had been once
censor, twice consul, and twice had triumphed, yet was more renowned
and esteemed for his virtue than his honors. Upon this account, after
the death of Scipio who overthrew Hannibal, he was thought worthy to
match with his daughter Cornelia, though there had been no friendship
or familiarity between Scipio and him, but rather the contrary. There
is a story told, that he once found in his bedchamber a couple of
snakes, and that the soothsayers, being consulted concerning the
prodigy, advised, that he should neither kill them both nor let them
both escape; adding, that if the male serpent was killed, Tiberius
should die, and if the female, Cornelia. And that, therefore, Tiberius,
who extremely loved his wife, and thought, besides, that it was much
more his part, who was an old man, to die, than it was hers, who as yet
was but a young woman, killed the male serpent, and let the female
escape; and soon after himself died, leaving behind him twelve children
borne to him by Cornelia.
Cornelia, taking upon herself all the care of the household and the
education of her children, approved herself so discreet a matron, so
affectionate a mother, and so constant and noble-spirited a widow, that
Tiberius seemed to all men to have done nothing unreasonable, in
choosing to die for such a woman; who, when king Ptolemy himself
proffered her his crown, and would have married her, refused it, and
chose rather to live a widow. In this state she continued, and lost all
her children, except one daughter, who was married to Scipio the
younger, and two sons, Tiberius and Caius, whose lives we are now
writing.
These she brought up with such care, that though they were without
dispute in natural endowments and dispositions the first among the
Romans of their time, yet they seemed to owe their virtues even more to
their education than to their birth. And as, in the statues and
pictures made of Castor and Pollux, though the brothers resemble one
another, yet there is a difference to be perceived in their
countenances, between the one, who delighted in the cestus, and the
other, that was famous in the course, so between these two noble
youths, though there was a strong general likeness in their common love
of fortitude and temperance, in their liberality, their eloquence, and
their greatness of mind, yet in their actions and administrations of
public affairs, a considerable variation showed itself. It will not be
amiss, before we proceed, to mark the difference between them.
Tiberius, in the form and expression of his countenance, and in his
gesture and motion, was gentle and composed; but Caius, earnest and
vehement. And so, in their public speeches to the people, the one spoke
in a quiet orderly manner, standing throughout on the same spot; the
other would walk about on the hustings, and in the heat of his
orations, pull his gown off his shoulders, and was the first of all the
Romans that used such gestures; as Cleon is said to have been the first
orator among the Athenians that pulled off his cloak and smote his
thigh, when addressing the people. Caius's oratory was impetuous and
passionate, making everything tell to the utmost, whereas Tiberius was
gentle, rather, and persuasive, awakening emotions of pity. His diction
was pure, and carefully correct, while that of Caius was vehement and
rich. So likewise in their way of living, and at their tables, Tiberius
was frugal and plain, Caius, compared with other men temperate and even
austere, but contrasting with his brother in a fondness for new
fashions and rarities, as appears in Drusus's charge against him, that
he had bought some silver dolphins, to the value of twelve hundred and
fifty drachmas for every pound weight.
The same difference that appeared in their diction, was observable also
in their tempers. The one was mild and reasonable, the other rough and
passionate, and to that degree, that often, in the midst of speaking,
he was so hurried away by his passion, against his judgment, that his
voice lost its tone, and he began to pass into mere abusive talking,
spoiling his whole speech. As a remedy to this excess, he made use of
an ingenious servant of his, one Licinius, who stood constantly behind
him with a sort of pitch-pipe, or instrument to regulate the voice by,
and whenever he perceived his master's tone alter, and break with
anger, he struck a soft note with his pipe, on hearing which, Caius
immediately checked the vehemence of his passion and his voice, grew
quieter, and allowed himself to be recalled to temper. Such are the
differences between the two brothers; but their valor in war against
their country's enemies, their justice in the government of its
subjects, their care and industry in office, and their self-command in
all that regarded their pleasures were equally remarkable in both.
Tiberius was the elder by nine years; owing to which their actions as
public men were divided by the difference of the times in which those
of the one and those of the other were performed. And one of the
principal causes of the failure of their enterprises was this interval
between their careers, and the want of combination of their efforts.
The power they would have exercised, had they flourished both together,
could scarcely have failed to overcome all resistance. We must
therefore give an account of each of them singly, and first of the
eldest.
Tiberius, immediately on his attaining manhood, had such a reputation,
that he was admitted into the college of the augurs, and that in
consideration more of his early virtue than of his noble birth. This
appeared by what Appius Claudius did, who, though he had been consul
and censor, and was now the head of the Roman senate, and had the
highest sense of his own place and merit, at a public feast of the
augurs, addressed himself openly to Tiberius, and with great
expressions of kindness, offered him his daughter in marriage. And when
Tiberius gladly accepted, and the agreement had thus been completed,
Appius, returning home, no sooner had reached his door, but he called
to his wife and cried out in a loud voice, "O Antistia, I have
contracted our daughter Claudia to a husband." She, being amazed,
answered, "But why so suddenly, or what means this haste? Unless you
have provided Tiberius Gracchus for her husband." I am not ignorant
that some apply this story to Tiberius, the father of the Gracchi, and
Scipio Africanus; but most relate it as we have done. And Polybius
writes, that after the death of Scipio Africanus, the nearest relations
of Cornelia, preferring Tiberius to all other competitors, gave her to
him in marriage, not having been engaged or promised to anyone by her
father.
This young Tiberius, accordingly, serving in Africa under the younger
Scipio, who had married his sister, and living there under the same
tent with him, soon learned to estimate the noble spirit of his
commander, which was so fit to inspire strong feelings of emulation in
virtue and desire to prove merit in action, and in a short time he
excelled all the young men of the army in obedience and courage; and he
was the first that mounted the enemy's wall, as Fannius says, who
writes, that he himself climbed up with him, and was partaker in the
achievement. He was regarded, while he continued with the army, with
great affection; and left behind him on his departure a strong desire
for his return.
After that expedition, being chosen paymaster, it was his fortune to
serve in the war against the Numantines, under the command of Caius
Mancinus, the consul, a person of no bad character, but the most
unfortunate of all the Roman generals. Notwithstanding, amidst the
greatest misfortunes, and in the most unsuccessful enterprises, not
only the discretion and valor of Tiberius, but also, which was still
more to be admired, the great respect and honor which he showed for his
general, were most eminently remarkable; though the general himself,
when reduced to straits, forgot his own dignity and office. For being
beaten in various great battles, he endeavored to dislodge by night,
and leave his camp; which the Numantines perceiving, immediately
possessed themselves of his camp, and pursuing that part of the forces
which was in flight, slew those that were in the rear, hedged the whole
army in on every side, and forced them into difficult ground, whence
there could be no possibility of an escape. Mancinus, despairing to
make his way through by force, sent a messenger to desire a truce, and
conditions of peace. But they refused to give their confidence to any
one except Tiberius, and required that he should be sent to treat with
them. This was not only in regard to the young man's own character, for
he had a great reputation amongst the soldiers, but also in remembrance
of his father Tiberius, who, in his command against the Spaniards, had
reduced great numbers of them to subjection, but granted a peace to the
Numantines, and prevailed upon the Romans to keep it punctually and
inviolably.
Tiberius was accordingly dispatched to the enemy, whom he persuaded to
accept of several conditions, and he himself complied with others; and
by this means it is beyond a question, that he saved twenty thousand of
the Roman citizens, besides attendants and camp followers. However, the
Numantines retained possession of all the property they had found and
plundered in the encampment; and amongst other things were Tiberius's
books of accounts, containing the whole transactions of his
quaestorship, which he was extremely anxious to recover. And therefore,
when the army were already upon their march, he returned to Numantia,
accompanied with only three or four of his friends; and making his
application to the officers of the Numantines, he entreated that they
would return him his books, lest his enemies should have it in their
power to reproach him with not being able to give an account of the
monies entrusted to him. The Numantines joyfully embraced this
opportunity of obliging him, and invited him into the city; as he stood
hesitating, they came up and took him by the hands, and begged that he
would no longer look upon them as enemies, but believe them to be his
friends, and treat them as such. Tiberius thought it well to consent,
desirous as he was to have his books returned, and was afraid lest he
should disoblige them by showing any distrust. As soon as he entered
into the city, they first offered him food, and made every kind of
entreaty that he would sit down and eat something in their company.
Afterwards they returned his books, and gave him the liberty to take
whatever he wished for in the remaining spoils. He, on the other hand,
would accept of nothing but some frankincense, which he used in his
public sacrifices, and, bidding them farewell with every expression of
kindness, departed.
When he returned to Rome, he found the whole transaction censured and
reproached, as a proceeding that was base, and scandalous to the
Romans. But the relations and friends of the soldiers, forming a large
body among the people, came flocking to Tiberius, whom they
acknowledged as the preserver of so many citizens, imputing to the
general all the miscarriages which had happened. Those who cried out
against what had been done, urged for imitation the example of their
ancestors, who stripped and handed over to the Samnites not only the
generals who had consented to the terms of release, but also all the
quaestors, for example, and tribunes, who had in any way implicated
themselves in the agreement, laying the guilt of perjury and breach of
conditions on their heads. But, in this affair, the populace, showing
an extraordinary kindness and affection for Tiberius, indeed voted that
the consul should be stripped and put in irons, and so delivered to the
Numantines; but for the sake of Tiberius, spared all the other
officers. It may be probable, also, that Scipio, who at that time was
the greatest and most powerful man among the Romans, contributed to
save him, though indeed he was also censured for not protecting
Mancinus too, and that he did not exert himself to maintain the
observance of the articles of peace which had been agreed upon by his
kinsman and friend Tiberius. But it may be presumed that the difference
between them was for the most part due to ambitious feelings, and to
the friends and reasoners who urged on Tiberius, and, as it was, it
never amounted to any thing that might not have been remedied, or that
was really bad. Nor can I think that Tiberius would ever have met with
his misfortunes, if Scipio had been concerned in dealing with his
measures; but he was away fighting at Numantia, when Tiberius, upon the
following occasion, first came forward as a legislator.
Of the land which the Romans gained by conquest from their neighbors,
part they sold publicly, and turned the remainder into common; this
common land they assigned to such of the citizens as were poor and
indigent, for which they were to pay only a small acknowledgment into
the public treasury. But when the wealthy men began to offer larger
rents, and drive the poorer people out, it was enacted by law, that no
person whatever should enjoy more than five hundred acres of ground.
This act for some time checked the avarice of the richer, and was of
great assistance to the poorer people, who retained under it their
respective proportions of ground, as they had been formerly rented by
them. Afterwards the rich men of the neighborhood contrived to get
these lands again into their possession, under other people's names,
and at last would not stick to claim most of them publicly in their
own. The poor, who were thus deprived of their farms, were no longer
either ready, as they had formerly been, to serve in war, or careful in
the education of their children; insomuch that in a short time there
were comparatively few freemen remaining in all Italy, which swarmed
with workhouses full of foreign-born slaves. These the rich men
employed in cultivating their ground, of which they dispossessed the
citizens. Caius Laelius, the intimate friend of Scipio, undertook to
reform this abuse; but meeting with opposition from men of authority,
and fearing a disturbance, he soon desisted, and received the name of
the Wise or the Prudent, both which meanings belong to the Latin word
Sapiens.
But Tiberius, being elected tribune of the people, entered upon that
design without delay, at the instigation, as is most commonly stated,
of Diophanes, the rhetorician, and Blossius, the philosopher. Diophanes
was a refugee from Mitylene, the other was an Italian, of the city of
Cuma, and was educated there under Antipater of Tarsus, who afterwards
did him the honor to dedicate some of his philosophical lectures to
him. Some have also charged Cornelia, the mother of Tiberius, with
contributing towards it, because she frequently upbraided her sons,
that the Romans as yet rather called her the daughter of Scipio, than
the mother of the Gracchi. Others again say Spurius Postumius was the
chief occasion. He was a man of the same age with Tiberius, and his
rival for reputation as a public speaker; and when Tiberius, at his
return from the campaign, found him to have got far beyond him in fame
and influence, and to be much looked up to, he thought to outdo him, by
attempting a popular enterprise of this difficulty, and of such great
consequence. But his brother Caius has left it us in writing, that when
Tiberius went through Tuscany to Numantia, and found the country almost
depopulated, there being hardly any free husbandmen or shepherds, but
for the most part only barbarian, imported slaves, he then first
conceived the course of policy which in the sequel proved so fatal to
his family. Though it is also most certain that the people themselves
chiefly excited his zeal and determination in the prosecution of it, by
setting up writings upon the porches, walls, and monuments, calling
upon him to reinstate the poor citizens in their former possessions.
However, he did not draw up his law without the advice and assistance
of those citizens that were then most eminent for their virtue and
authority; amongst whom were Crassus, the high-priest, Mucius Scaevola,
the lawyer, who at that time was consul, and Claudius Appius, his
father-in-law. Never did any law appear more moderate and gentle,
especially being enacted against such great oppression and avarice. For
they who ought to have been severely punished for transgressing the
former laws, and should at least have lost all their titles to such
lands which they had unjustly usurped, were notwithstanding to receive
a price for quitting their unlawful claims, and giving up their lands
to those fit owners who stood in need of help. But though this
reformation was managed with so much tenderness, that, all the former
transactions being passed over, the people were only thankful to
prevent abuses of the like nature for the future, yet, on the other
hand, the moneyed men, and those of great estates were exasperated,
through their covetous feelings against the law itself, and against the
law giver, through anger and party spirit. They therefore endeavored to
seduce the people, declaring that Tiberius was designing a general
redivision of lands, to overthrow the government, and put all things
into confusion.
But they had no success. For Tiberius, maintaining an honorable and
just cause, and possessed of eloquence sufficient to have made a less
creditable action appear plausible, was no safe or easy antagonist,
when, with the people crowding around the hustings, he took his place,
and spoke in behalf of the poor. "The savage beasts," said he, "in
Italy, have their particular dens, they have their places of repose and
refuge; but the men who bear arms, and expose their lives for the
safety of their country, enjoy in the meantime nothing more in it but
the air and light; and having no houses or settlements of their own,
are constrained to wander from place to place with their wives and
children." He told them that the commanders were guilty of a ridiculous
error, when, at the head of their armies, they exhorted the common
soldiers to fight for their sepulchres and altars; when not any amongst
so many Romans is possessed of either altar or monument, neither have
they any houses of their own, or hearths of their ancestors to defend.
They fought indeed, and were slain, but it was to maintain the luxury
and the wealth of other men. They were styled the masters of the world,
but in the meantime had not one foot of ground which they could call
their own. A harangue of this nature, spoken to an enthusiastic and
sympathizing audience, by a person of commanding spirit and genuine
feeling, no adversaries at that time were competent to oppose.
Forbearing, therefore, all discussion and debate, they addressed
themselves to Marcus Octavius, his fellow-tribune, who, being a young
man of a steady, orderly character, and an intimate friend of Tiberius,
upon this account declined at first the task of opposing him; but at
length, over-persuaded with the repeated importunities of numerous
considerable persons, he was prevailed upon to do so, and hindered the
passing of the law; it being the rule that any tribune has a power to
hinder an act, and that all the rest can effect nothing, if only one of
them dissents. Tiberius, irritated at these proceedings, presently laid
aside this milder bill, but at the same time preferred another; which,
as it was more grateful to the common people, so it was much more
severe against the wrongdoers, commanding them to make an immediate
surrender of all lands which, contrary to former laws, had come into
their possession. Hence there arose daily contentions between him and
Octavius in their orations. However, though they expressed themselves
with the utmost heat and determination, they yet were never known to
descend to any personal reproaches, or in their passion to let slip any
indecent expressions, so as to derogate from one another.
For not alone
In revelings and Bacchic play,
but also in contentions and political animosities, a noble nature and a
temperate education stay and compose the mind. Observing, however, that
Octavius himself was an offender against this law, and detained a great
quantity of ground from the commonalty, Tiberius desired him to forbear
opposing him any further, and proffered, for the public good, though he
himself had but an indifferent estate, to pay a price for Octavius's
share at his own cost and charges. But upon the refusal of this proffer
by Octavius, he then interposed an edict, prohibiting all magistrates
to exercise their respective functions, till such time as the law was
either ratified or rejected by public votes. He further sealed up the
gates of Saturn's temple, so that the treasurers could neither take any
money out from thence, or put any in. He threatened to impose a severe
fine upon those of the praetors who presumed to disobey his commands,
insomuch that all the officers, for fear of this penalty, intermitted
the exercise of their several jurisdictions. Upon this, the rich
proprietors put themselves into mourning, went up and down melancholy
and dejected; they entered also into a conspiracy against Tiberius, and
procured men to murder him; so that he also, with all men's knowledge,
whenever he went abroad, took with him a sword-staff, such as robbers
use, called in Latin a dolo.
When the day appointed was come, and the people summoned to give their
votes, the rich men seized upon the voting urns, and carried them away
by force; thus all things were in confusion. But when Tiberius's party
appeared strong enough to oppose the contrary faction, and drew
together in a body, with the resolution to do so, Manlius and Fulvius,
two of the consular quality, threw themselves before Tiberius, took him
by the hand, and with tears in their eyes, begged of him to desist.
Tiberius, considering the mischiefs that were all but now occurring,
and having a great respect for two such eminent persons, demanded of
them what they would advise him to do. They acknowledged themselves
unfit to advise in a matter of so great importance, but earnestly
entreated him to leave it to the determination of the senate. But when
the senate assembled, and could not bring the business to any result,
through the prevalence of the rich faction, he then was driven to a
course neither legal nor fair, and proposed to deprive Octavius of his
tribuneship, it being impossible for him in any other way to get the
law brought to the vote. At first he addressed him publicly, with
entreaties couched in the kindest terms, and taking him by his hands,
besought him, that now, in the presence of all the people, he would
take this opportunity to oblige them, in granting only that request
which was in itself so just and reasonable, being but a small
recompense in regard of those many dangers and hardships which they had
undergone for the public safety. Octavius, however, would by no means
be persuaded to compliance; upon which Tiberius declared openly, that
seeing they two were united in the same office, and of equal authority,
it would be a difficult matter to compose their difference on so
weighty a matter without a civil war; and that the only remedy which he
knew, must be the deposing one of them from their office. He desired,
therefore, that Octavius would summon the people to pass their verdict
upon him first, averring that he would willingly relinquish his
authority if the citizens desired it. Octavius refused; and Tiberius
then said he would himself put to the people the question of Octavius's
deposition, if upon mature deliberation he did not alter his mind; and
after this declaration, he adjourned the assembly till the next day.
When the people were met together again, Tiberius placed himself in the
rostra, and endeavored a second time to persuade Octavius. But all
being to no purpose, he referred the whole matter to the people,
calling on them to vote at once, whether Octavius should be deposed or
not; and when seventeen of the thirty-five tribes had already voted
against him, and there wanted only the votes of one tribe more for his
final deprivation, Tiberius put a short stop to the proceedings, and
once more renewed his importunities; he embraced and kissed him before
all the assembly, begging, with all the earnestness imaginable, that he
would neither suffer himself to incur the dishonor, nor him to be
reputed the author and promoter of so odious a measure. Octavius, we
are told, did seem a little softened and moved with these entreaties;
his eyes filled with tears, and he continued silent for a considerable
time. But presently looking towards the rich men and proprietors of
estates, who stood gathered in a body together, partly for shame, and
partly for fear of disgracing himself with them, he boldly bade
Tiberius use any severity he pleased. The law for his deprivation being
thus voted, Tiberius ordered one of his servants, whom he had made a
freeman, to remove Octavius from the rostra, employing his own domestic
freed servants in the stead of the public officers. And it made the
action seem all the sadder, that Octavius was dragged out in such an
ignominious manner. The people immediately assaulted him, whilst the
rich men ran in to his assistance. Octavius, with some difficulty, was
snatched away, and safely conveyed out of the crowd; though a trusty
servant of his, who had placed himself in front of his master that he
might assist his escape, in keeping off the multitude, had his eyes
struck out, much to the displeasure of Tiberius, who ran with all
haste, when he perceived the disturbance, to appease the rioters.
This being done, the law concerning the lands was ratified and
confirmed, and three commissioners were appointed, to make a survey of
the grounds and see the same equally divided. These were Tiberius
himself, Claudius Appius, his father-in-law, and his brother, Caius
Gracchus, who at this time was not at Rome, but in the army under the
command of Scipio Africanus before Numantia. These things were
transacted by Tiberius without any disturbance, none daring to offer
any resistance to him, besides which, he gave the appointment as
tribune in Octavius's place, not to any person of distinction, but to a
certain Mucius, one of his own clients. The great men of the city were
therefore utterly offended, and, fearing lest he should grow yet more
popular, they took all opportunities of affronting him publicly in the
senate house. For when he requested, as was usual, to have a tent
provided at the public charge for his use, while dividing the lands,
though it was a favor commonly granted to persons employed in business
of much less importance, it was peremptorily refused to him; and the
allowance made him for his daily expenses was fixed to nine obols only.
The chief promoter of these affronts was Publius Nasica, who openly
abandoned himself to his feelings of hatred against Tiberius, being a
large holder of the public lands, and not a little resenting now to be
turned out of them by force. The people, on the other hand, were still
more and more excited, insomuch that a little after this, it happening
that one of Tiberius's friends died suddenly, and his body being marked
with malignant-looking spots, they ran, in tumultuous manner, to his
funeral, crying aloud that the man was poisoned. They took the bier
upon their shoulders, and stood over it, while it was placed on the
pile, and really seemed to have fair grounds for their suspicion of
foul play. For the body burst open, and such a quantity of corrupt
humors issued out, that the funeral fire was extinguished, and when it
was again kindled, the wood still would not burn; insomuch that they
were constrained to carry the corpse to another place, where with much
difficulty it took fire. Besides this, Tiberius, that he might incense
the people yet more, put himself into mourning, brought his children
amongst the crowd, and entreated the people to provide for them and
their mother, as if he now despaired of his own security.
About this time, king Attalus, surnamed Philometor, died, and Eudemus,
a Pergamenian, brought his last will to Rome, by which he had made the
Roman people his heirs. Tiberius, to please the people, immediately
proposed making a law, that all the money which Attalus left, should be
distributed amongst such poor citizens as were to be sharers of the
public lands, for the better enabling them to proceed in stocking and
cultivating their ground; and as for the cities that were in the
territories of Attalus, he declared that the disposal of them did not
at all belong to the senate, but to the people, and that he himself
would ask their pleasure herein. By this he offended the senate more
than ever he had done before, and Pompeius stood up, and acquainted
them that he was the next neighbor to Tiberius, and so had the
opportunity of knowing that Eudemus, the Pergamenian, had presented
Tiberius with a royal diadem and a purple robe, as before long he was
to be king of Rome. Quintus Metellus also upbraided him, saying, that
when his father was censor, the Romans, whenever he happened to be
going home from a supper, used to put out all their lights, lest they
should be seen to have indulged themselves in feastings and drinking at
unseasonable hours, whereas, now, the most indigent and audacious of
the people were found with their torches at night, following Tiberius
home. Titus Annius, a man of no great repute for either justice or
temperance, but famous for his skill in putting and answering
questions, challenged Tiberius to the proof by wager, declaring him to
have deposed a magistrate who by law was sacred and inviolable. Loud
clamor ensued, and Tiberius, quitting the senate hastily, called
together the people, and summoning Annius to appear, was proceeding to
accuse him. But Annius, being no great speaker, nor of any repute
compared to him, sheltered himself in his own particular art, and
desired that he might propose one or two questions to Tiberius, before
he entered upon the chief argument. This liberty being granted, and
silence proclaimed, Annius proposed his question. "If you," said he,
"had a design to disgrace and defame me, and I should apply myself to
one of your colleagues for redress, and he should come forward to my
assistance, would you for that reason fall into a passion, and depose
him?" Tiberius, they say, was so much disconcerted at this question,
that, though at other times his assurance as well as his readiness of
speech was always remarkable, yet now he was silent and made no reply.
For the present he dismissed the assembly. But beginning to understand
that the course he had taken with Octavius had created offense even
among the populace as well as the nobility, because the dignity of the
tribunes seemed to be violated, which had always continued till that
day sacred and honorable, he made a speech to the people in
justification of himself; out of which it may not be improper to
collect some particulars, to give an impression of his force and
persuasiveness in speaking. "A tribune," he said, "of the people, is
sacred indeed, and ought to be inviolable, because in a manner
consecrated to be the guardian and protector of them; but if he
degenerate so far as to oppress the people, abridge their powers, and
take away their liberty of voting, he stands deprived by his own act of
his honors and immunities, by the neglect of the duty, for which the
honor was bestowed upon him. Otherwise we should be under the
obligation to let a tribune do his pleasure, though he should proceed
to destroy the capitol or set fire to the arsenal. He who should make
these attempts, would be a bad tribune. He who assails the power of the
people, is no longer a tribune at all. Is it not inconceivable, that a
tribune should have power to imprison a consul, and the people have no
authority to degrade him when he uses that honor which he received from
them, to their detriment? For the tribunes, as well as the consuls,
hold office by the people's votes. The kingly government, which
comprehends all sorts of authority in itself alone, is morever elevated
by the greatest and most religious solemnity imaginable into a
condition of sanctity. But the citizens, notwithstanding this, deposed
Tarquin, when he acted wrongfully; and for the crime of one single man,
the ancient government under which Rome was built, was abolished
forever. What is there in all Rome so sacred and venerable as the
vestal virgins, to whose care alone the preservation of the eternal
fire is committed? yet if one of these transgress, she is buried alive;
the sanctity which for the gods' sakes is allowed them, is forfeited
when they offend against the gods. So likewise a tribune retains not
his inviolability, which for the people's sake was accorded to him,
when he offends against the people, and attacks the foundations of that
authority from whence he derived his own. We esteem him to be legally
chosen tribune who is elected only by the majority of votes; and is not
therefore the same person much more lawfully degraded, when by a
general consent of them all, they agree to depose him? Nothing is so
sacred as religious offerings; yet the people were never prohibited to
make use of them, but suffered to remove and carry them wherever they
pleased; so likewise, as it were some sacred present, they have lawful
power to transfer the tribuneship from one man's hands to another's.
Nor can that authority be thought inviolable and irremovable which many
of those who have held it, have of their own act surrendered, and
desired to be discharged from."
These were the principal heads of Tiberius's apology. But his friends,
apprehending the dangers which seemed to threaten him, and the
conspiracy that was gathering head against him, were of opinion, that
the safest way would be for him to petition that he might be continued
tribune for the year ensuing. Upon this consideration, he again
endeavored to secure the people's good-will with fresh laws, making the
years of serving in the war fewer than formerly, granting liberty of
appeal from the judges to the people, and joining to the senators, who
were judges at that time, an equal number of citizens of the horsemen's
degree, endeavoring as much as in him lay to lessen the power of the
senate, rather from passion and partisanship than from any rational
regard to equity and the public good. And when it came to the question,
whether these laws should be passed, and they perceived that the
opposite party were strongest, the people as yet being not got together
in a full body, they began first of all to gain time by speeches in
accusation of some of their fellow-magistrates, and at length adjourned
the assembly till the day following.
Tiberius then went down into the marketplace amongst the people, and
made his addresses to them humbly and with tears in his eyes; and told
them, he had just reason to suspect, that his adversaries would attempt
in the night time to break open his house, and murder him. This worked
so strongly with the multitude, that several of them pitched tents
round about his house, and kept guard all night for the security of his
person. By break of day came one of the soothsayers, who prognosticate
good or bad success by the pecking of fowls, and threw them something
to eat. The soothsayer used his utmost endeavors to fright the fowls
out of their coop; but none of them except one would venture out, which
fluttered with its left wing, and stretched out its leg, and ran back
again into the coop, without eating anything. This put Tiberius in mind
of another ill omen which had formerly happened to him. He had a very
costly headpiece, which he made use of when he engaged in any battle,
and into this piece of armor two serpents crawled, laid eggs, and
brought forth young ones. The remembrance of which made Tiberius more
concerned now, than otherwise he would have been. However, he went
towards the capitol, as soon as he understood that the people were
assembled there; but before he got out of the house, he stumbled upon
the threshold with such violence, that he broke the nail of his great
toe, insomuch that blood gushed out of his shoe. He was not gone very
far before he saw two ravens fighting on the top of a house which stood
on his left hand as he passed along; and though he was surrounded with
a number of people, a stone, struck from its place by one of the
ravens, fell just at his foot. This even the boldest men about him felt
as a check. But Blossius of Cuma, who was present, told him, that it
would be a shame, and an ignominious thing, for Tiberius, who was the
son of Gracchus, the grandson of Scipio Africanus, and the protector of
the Roman people, to refuse, for fear of a silly bird, to answer, when
his countrymen called to him; and that his adversaries would represent
it not as a mere matter for their ridicule, but would declaim about it
to the people as the mark of a tyrannical temper, which felt a pride in
taking liberties with the people. At the same time several messengers
came also from his friends, to desire his presence at the capitol,
saying that all things went there according to expectation. And indeed
Tiberius's first entrance there was in every way successful; as soon as
ever he appeared, the people welcomed him with loud acclamations, and
as he went up to his place, they repeated their expressions of joy, and
gathered in a body around him, so that no one who was not well known to
be his friend, might approach. Mucius then began to put the business
again to the vote; but nothing could be performed in the usual course
and order, because of the disturbance caused by those who were on the
outside of the crowd, where there was a struggle going on with those of
the opposite party, who were pushing on and trying to force their way
in and establish themselves among them.
Whilst things were in this confusion, Flavius Flaccus, a senator,
standing in a place where he could be seen, but at such a distance from
Tiberius that he could not make him hear, signified to him by motions
of his hand, that he wished to impart something of consequence to him
in private. Tiberius ordered the multitude to make way for him, by
which means, though not without some difficulty, Flavius got to him,
and informed him, that the rich men, in a sitting of the senate, seeing
they could not prevail upon the consul to espouse their quarrel, had
come to a final determination amongst themselves, that he should be
assassinated, and to that purpose had a great number of their friends
and servants ready armed to accomplish it. Tiberius no sooner
communicated this confederacy to those about him, but they immediately
tucked up their gowns, broke the halberts which the officers used to
keep the crowd off into pieces, and distributed them among themselves,
resolving to resist the attack with these. Those who stood at a
distance wondered, and asked what was the occasion; Tiberius, knowing
that they could not hear him at that distance, lifted his hand to his
head, wishing to intimate the great danger which he apprehended himself
to be in. His adversaries, taking notice of that action, ran off at
once to the senate house, and declared, that Tiberius desired the
people to bestow a crown upon him, as if this were the meaning of his
touching his head. This news created general confusion in the senators,
and Nasica at once called upon the consul to punish this tyrant, and
defend the government. The consul mildly replied, that he would not be
the first to do any violence; and as he would not suffer any freeman to
be put to death, before sentence had lawfully passed upon him, so
neither would he allow any measure to be carried into effect, if by
persuasion or compulsion on the part of Tiberius the people had been
induced to pass any unlawful vote. But Nasica, rising from his seat,
"Since the consul," said he, "regards not the safety of the
commonwealth, let everyone who will defend the laws, follow me." He,
then, casting the skirt of his gown over his head, hastened to the
capitol; those who bore him company, wrapped their gowns also about
their arms. and forced their way after him. And as they were persons of
the greatest authority in the city, the common people did not venture
to obstruct their passing, but were rather so eager to clear the way
for them, that they tumbled over one another in haste. The attendants
they brought with them, had furnished themselves with clubs and staves
from their houses, and they themselves picked up the feet and other
fragments of stools and chairs, which were broken by the hasty flight
of the common people. Thus armed, they made towards Tiberius, knocking
down those whom they found in front of him, and those were soon wholly
dispersed, and many of them slain. Tiberius tried to save himself by
flight. As he was running, he was stopped by one who caught hold of him
by the gown; but he threw it off, and fled in his under-garments only.
And stumbling over those who before had been knocked down, as he was
endeavoring to get up again, Publius Satureius, a tribune, one of his
colleagues, was observed to give him the first fatal stroke, by hitting
him upon the head with the foot of a stool. The second blow was
claimed, as though it had been a deed to be proud of, by Lucius Rufus.
And of the rest there fell above three hundred, killed by clubs and
staves only, none by an iron weapon.
This, we are told, was the first sedition amongst the Romans, since the
abrogation of kingly government, that ended in the effusion of blood.
All former quarrels which were neither small nor about trivial matters,
were always amicably composed, by mutual concessions on either side,
the senate yielding for fear of the commons, and the commons out of
respect to the senate. And it is probable indeed that Tiberius himself
might then have been easily induced, by mere persuasion, to give way,
and certainly, if attacked at all, must have yielded without any
recourse to violence and bloodshed, as he had not at that time above
three thousand men to support him. But it is evident, that this
conspiracy was fomented against him, more out of the hatred and malice
which the rich men had to his person, than for the reasons which they
commonly pretended against him. In testimony of which, we may adduce
the cruelty and unnatural insults which they used to his dead body. For
they would not suffer his own brother, though he earnestly begged the
favor, to bury him in the night, but threw him, together with the other
corpses, into the river. Neither did their animosity stop here; for
they banished some of his friends without legal process, and slew as
many of the others us they could lay their hands on; amongst whom
Diophanes, the orator, was slain, and one Caius Villius cruelly
murdered by being shut up in a large tun with vipers and serpents.
Blossius of Cuma, indeed, was carried before the consuls, and examined
touching what had happened, and freely confessed, that he had done,
without scruple, whatever Tiberius bade him. "What," replied Nasica,
"then if Tiberius had bidden you burn the capitol, would you have burnt
it?" His first answer was, that Tiberius never would have ordered any
such thing; but being pressed with the same question by several others,
he declared, "If Tiberius had commanded it, it would have been right
for me to do it; for he never would have commanded it, if it had not
been for the people's good." Blossius at this time was pardoned, and
afterwards went away to Aristonicus in Asia, and when Aristonicus was
overthrown and ruined, killed himself.
The senate, to soothe the people after these transactions, did not
oppose the division of the public lands, and permitted them to choose
another commissioner in the room of Tiberius. So they elected Publius
Crassus, who was Gracchus's near connection, as his daughter Licinia
was married to Caius Gracchus; although Cornelius Nepos says, that it
was not Crassus's daughter whom Caius married, but Brutus's, who
triumphed for his victories over the Lusitanians; but most writers
state it as we have done. The people, however, showed evident marks of
their anger at Tiberius's death; and were clearly waiting only for the
opportunity to be revenged, and Nasica was already threatened with an
impeachment. The senate, therefore, fearing lest some mischief should
befall him, sent him ambassador into Asia, though there was no occasion
for his going thither. For the people did not conceal their
indignation, even in the open streets, but railed at him, whenever they
met him abroad, calling him a murderer and a tyrant, one who had
polluted the most holy and religious spot in Rome with the blood of a
sacred and inviolable magistrate. And so Nasica left Italy, although be
was bound, being the chief priest, to officiate in all principal
sacrifices. Thus wandering wretchedly and ignominiously from one place
to another, he died in a short time after, not far from Pergamus. It is
no wonder that the people had such an aversion to Nasica, when even
Scipio Africanus, though so much and so deservedly beloved by the
Romans, was in danger of quite losing the good opinion which the people
had of him, only for repeating, when the news of Tiberius's death was
first brought to Numantia, the verse out of Homer
Even so perish all who do the same.
And afterwards, being asked by Caius and Fulvius, in a great assembly,
what he thought of Tiberius's death, he gave an answer adverse to
Tiberius's public actions. Upon which account, the people thenceforth
used to interrupt him when he spoke, which, until that time, they had
never done, and he, on the other hand, was induced to speak ill of the
people. But of this the particulars are given in the life of Scipio.
CAIUS GRACCHUS
Caius Gracchus, at first, either for fear of his brother's enemies, or
designing to render them more odious to the people, absented himself
from the public assemblies, and lived quietly in his own house, as if
he were not only reduced for the present to live unambitiously, but was
disposed in general to pass his life in inaction. And some, indeed,
went so far as to say that he disliked his brother's measures, and had
wholly abandoned the defense of them. However, he was now but very
young, being not so old as Tiberius by nine years; and he was not yet
thirty when he was slain.
In some little time, however, he quietly let his temper appear, which
was one of an utter antipathy to a lazy retirement and effeminacy, and
not the least likely to be contented with a life of eating, drinking,
and money getting. He gave great pains to the study of eloquence, as
wings upon which he might aspire to public business; and it was very
apparent that he did not intend to pass his days in obscurity. When
Vettius, a friend of his, was on his trial, he defended his cause, and
the people were in an ecstasy, and transported with joy, finding him
master of such eloquence that the other orators seemed like children in
comparison, and jealousies and fears on the other hand began to be felt
by the powerful citizens; and it was generally spoken of amongst them
that they must hinder Caius from being made tribune.
But soon after, it happened that he was elected quaestor, and obliged
to attend Orestes, the consul, into Sardinia. This, as it pleased his
enemies, so it was not ungrateful to him, being naturally of a warlike
character, and as well trained in the art of war as in that of
pleading. And, besides, as yet he very much dreaded meddling with state
affairs, and appearing publicly in the rostra, which, because of the
importunity of the people and his friends, he could no otherwise avoid,
than by taking this journey. He was therefore most thankful for the
opportunity of absenting himself. Notwithstanding which, it is the
prevailing opinion that Caius was a far more thorough demagogue, and
more ambitious than ever Tiberius had been, of popular applause; yet it
is certain that he was borne rather by a sort of necessity than by any
purpose of his own into public business. And Cicero, the orator,
relates, that when he declined all such concerns, and would have lived
privately, his brother appeared to him in a dream, and calling him by
his name, said, "why do you tarry, Caius? There is no escape; one life
and one death is appointed for us both, to spend the one and to meet
the other, in the service of the people."
Caius was no sooner arrived in Sardinia, but he gave exemplary proofs
of his high merit; he not only excelled all the young men of his age in
his actions against his enemies, in doing justice to his inferiors, and
in showing all obedience and respect to his superior officer; but
likewise in temperance, frugality, and industry, he surpassed even
those who were much older than himself. It happened to be a sharp and
sickly winter in Sardinia, insomuch that the general was forced to lay
an imposition upon several towns to supply the soldiers with necessary
clothes. The cities sent to Rome, petitioning to be excused from that
burden; the senate found their request reasonable, and ordered the
general to find some other way of new clothing the army. While he was
at a loss what course to take in this affair, the soldiers were reduced
to great distress; but Caius went from one city to another, and by his
mere representations, he prevailed with them, that of their own accord
they clothed the Roman army. This again being reported to Rome, and
seeming to be only an intimation of what was to be expected of him as a
popular leader hereafter, raised new jealousies amongst the senators.
And, besides, there came ambassadors out of Africa from king Micipsa,
to acquaint the senate, that their master, out of respect to Caius
Gracchus, had sent a considerable quantity of corn to the general in
Sardinia; at which the senators were so much offended, that they turned
the ambassadors out of the senate house, and made an order that the
soldiers should be relieved by sending others in their room; but that
Orestes should continue at his post, with whom Caius, also, as they
presumed, being his quaestor, would remain. But he, finding how things
were carried, immediately in anger took ship for Rome, where his
unexpected appearance obtained him the censure not only of his enemies,
but also of the people; who thought it strange that a quaestor should
leave before his commander. Nevertheless, when some accusation upon
this ground was made against him to the censors, he desired leave to
defend himself, and did it so effectually, that, when he ended, he was
regarded as one who had been very much injured. He made it then appear,
that he had served twelve years in the army, whereas others are obliged
to serve only ten; that he had continued quaestor to the general three
years, whereas he might by law have returned at the end of one year;
and alone of all who went on the expedition, he had carried out a full,
and had brought home an empty purse, while others, after drinking up
the wine they had carried out with them, brought back the wine-jars
filled again with gold and silver from the war.
After this, they brought other accusations and writs against him, for
exciting insurrection amongst the allies, and being engaged in the
conspiracy that was discovered about Fregellae. But having cleared
himself of every suspicion, and proved his entire innocence, he now at
once came forward to ask for the tribuneship; in which, though he was
universally opposed by all persons of distinction, yet there came such
infinite numbers of people from all parts of Italy to vote for Caius,
that lodgings for them could not be supplied in the city; and the Field
being not large enough to contain the assembly, there were numbers who
climbed upon the roofs and the tilings of the houses to use their
voices in his favor. However, the nobility so far forced the people to
their pleasure and disappointed Caius's hope, that he was not returned
the first, as was expected, but the fourth tribune. But when he came to
the execution of his office, it was seen presently who was really first
tribune, as he was a better orator than any of his contemporaries, and
the passion with which he still lamented his brother's death, made him
the bolder in speaking. He used on all occasions to remind the people
of what had happened in that tumult, and laid before them the examples
of their ancestors, how they declared war against the Faliscans, only
for giving scurrilous language to one Genucius, a tribune of the
people; and sentenced Caius Veturius to death, for refusing to give way
in the forum to a tribune; "Whereas," said he, "these men did, in the
presence of you all, murder Tiberius with clubs, and dragged the
slaughtered body through the middle of the city, to be cast into the
river. Even his friends, as many as could be taken, were put to death
immediately, without any trial, notwithstanding that just and ancient
custom, which has always been observed in our city, that whenever
anyone is accused of a capital crime, and does not make his personal
appearance in court, a trumpeter is sent in the morning to his lodging,
to summon him by sound of trumpet to appear; and before this ceremony
is performed, the judges do not proceed to the vote; so cautious and
reserved were our ancestors about business of life and death."
Having moved the people's passion with such addresses (and his voice
was of the loudest and strongest), he proposed two laws. The first was,
that whoever was turned out of any public office by the people, should
be thereby rendered incapable of bearing any office afterwards; the
second, that if any magistrate condemn a Roman to be banished, without
a legal trial, the people be authorized to take cognizance thereof.
One of these laws was manifestly leveled at Marcus Octavius, who, at
the instigation of Tiberius, had been deprived of his tribuneship. The
other touched Popilius, who, in his praetorship, had banished all
Tiberius's friends; whereupon Popilius, being unwilling to stand the
hazard of a trial, fled out of Italy. As for the former law, it was
withdrawn by Caius himself, who said he yielded in the case of
Octavius, at the request of his mother Cornelia. This was very
acceptable and pleasing to the people, who had a great veneration for
Cornelia, not more for the sake of her father than for that of her
children; and they afterwards erected a statue of brass in honor of
her, with this inscription, Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi. There
are several expressions recorded, in which he used her name perhaps
with too much rhetoric, and too little self-respect, in his attacks
upon his adversaries. "How," said he, "dare you presume to reflect upon
Cornelia, the mother of Tiberius?" And because the person who made the
redactions had been suspected of effeminate courses, "With what face,"
said he, "can you compare Cornelia with yourself? Have you brought
forth children as she has done? And yet all Rome knows, that she has
refrained from the conversation of men longer than you yourself have
done." Such was the bitterness he used in his language; and numerous
similar expressions might be adduced from his written remains.
Of the laws which he now proposed, with the object of gratifying the
people and abridging the power of the senate, the first was concerning
the public lands, which were to be divided amongst the poor citizens;
another was concerning the common soldiers, that they should be clothed
at the public charge, without any diminution of their pay, and that
none should be obliged to serve in the army who was not full seventeen
years old; another gave the same right to all the Italians in general,
of voting at elections, as was enjoyed by the citizens of Rome; a
fourth related to the price of corn, which was to be sold at a lower
rate than formerly to the poor; and a fifth regulated the courts of
justice, greatly reducing the power of the senators. For hitherto, in
all causes senators only sat as judges, and were therefore much dreaded
by the Roman knights and the people. But Caius joined three hundred
ordinary citizens of equestrian rank with the senators, who were three
hundred likewise in number, and ordained that the judicial authority
should be equally invested in the six hundred. While he was arguing for
the ratification of this law, his behavior was observed to show in many
respects unusual earnestness, and whereas other popular leaders had
always hitherto, when speaking, turned their faces towards the senate
house, and the place called the comitium, he, on the contrary, was the
first man that in his harangue to the people turned himself the other
way, towards them, and continued after that time to do so. An
insignificant movement and change of posture, yet it marked no small
revolution in state affairs, the conversion, in a manner, of the whole
government from an aristocracy to a democracy; his action intimating
that public speakers should address themselves to the people, not the
senate.
When the commonalty ratified this law, and gave him power to select
those of the knights whom he approved of, to be judges, he was invested
with a sort of kingly power, and the senate itself submitted to receive
his advice in matters of difficulty; nor did he advise anything that
might derogate from the honor of that body. As, for example, his
resolution about the corn which Fabius the propraetor sent from Spain,
was very just and honorable; for he persuaded the senate to sell the
corn, and return the money to the same provinces which had furnished
them with it; and also that Fabius should be censured for rendering the
Roman government odious and insupportable. This got him extraordinary
respect and favor among the provinces. Besides all this, he proposed
measures for the colonization of several cities, for making roads, and
for building public granaries; of all which works he himself undertook
the management and superintendence, and was never wanting to give
necessary orders for the dispatch of all these different and great
undertakings; and that with such wonderful expedition and diligence, as
if he had been but engaged upon one of them; insomuch that all persons,
even those who hated or feared him, stood amazed to see what a capacity
he had for effecting and completing all he undertook. As for the people
themselves, they were transported at the very sight, when they saw him
surrounded with a crowd of contractors, artificers, public deputies,
military officers, soldiers, and scholars. All these he treated with an
easy familiarity, yet without abandoning his dignity in his gentleness;
and so accommodated his nature to the wants and occasions of everyone
who addressed him, that those were looked upon as no better than
envious detractors, who had represented him as a terrible, assuming,
and violent character. He was even a greater master of the popular
leader's art in his common talk and his actions, than he was in his
public addresses.
His most especial exertions were given to constructing the roads, which
he was careful to make beautiful and pleasant, as well as convenient.
They were drawn by his directions through the fields, exactly in a
straight line, partly paved with hewn stone, and partly laid with solid
masses of gravel. When he met with any valleys or deep watercourses
crossing the line, he either caused them to be filled up with rubbish,
or bridges to be built over them, so well leveled, that all being of an
equal height on both sides, the work presented one uniform and
beautiful prospect. Besides this, he caused the roads to be all divided
into miles (each mile containing little less than eight furlongs, and
erected pillars of stone to signify the distance from one place to
another. He likewise placed other stones at small distances from one
another, on both sides of the way, by the help of which travelers might
get easily on horseback without wanting a groom.
For these reasons, the people highly extolled him, and were ready upon
all occasions to express their affection towards him. One day, in an
oration to them, he declared that he had only one favor to request,
which if they granted, he should think the greatest obligation in the
world; yet if it were denied, he would never blame them for the
refusal. This expression made the world believe that his ambition was
to be consul; and it was generally expected that he wished to be both
consul and tribune at the same time. When the day for election of
consuls was at hand, and all in great expectation, he appeared in the
Field with Caius Fannius, canvassing together with his friends for his
election. This was of great effect in Fannius's favor. He was chosen
consul, and Caius elected tribune the second time, without his own
seeking or petitioning for it, but at the voluntary motion of the
people. But when he understood that the senators were his declared
enemies, and that Fannius himself was none of the most zealous of
friends, he began again to rouse the people with other new laws. He
proposed that a colony of Roman citizens might be sent to re-people
Tarentum and Capua, and that the Latins should enjoy the same
privileges with the citizens of Rome. But the senate, apprehending that
he would at last grow too powerful and dangerous, took a new and
unusual course to alienate the people's affections from him, by playing
the demagogue in opposition to him, and offering favors contrary to all
good policy. Livius Drusus was fellow-tribune with Caius, a person of
as good a family and as well educated as any amongst the Romans, and
noways inferior to those who for their eloquence and riches were the
most honored and most powerful men of that time. To him, therefore, the
chief senators made their application, exhorting him to attack Caius,
and join in their confederacy against him; which they designed to carry
on, not by using any force, or opposing the common people, but by
gratifying and obliging them with such unreasonable things as otherwise
they would have felt it honorable for them to incur the greatest
unpopularity in resisting.
Livius offered to serve the senate with his authority in this business;
and proceeded accordingly to bring forward such laws as were in reality
neither honorable nor advantageous for the public; his whole design
being to outdo Caius in pleasing and cajoling the populace (as if it
had been in some comedy), with obsequious flattery and every kind of
gratifications; the senate thus letting it be seen plainly, that they
were not angry with Caius's public measures, but only desirous to ruin
him utterly, or at least to lessen his reputation. For when Caius
proposed the settlement of only two colonies, and mentioned the better
class of citizens for that purpose, they accused him of abusing the
people; and yet, on the contrary, were pleased with Drusus, when he
proposed the sending out of twelve colonies, each to consist of three
thousand persons, and those, too, the most needy that he could find.
When Caius divided the public land amongst the poor citizens, and
charged them with a small rent, annually, to be paid into the
exchequer, they were angry at him, as one who sought to gratify the
people only for his own interest; yet afterwards they commended Livius,
though he exempted them from paying even that little acknowledgment.
They were displeased with Caius, for offering the Latins an equal right
with the Romans of voting at the election of magistrates; but when
Livius proposed that it might not be lawful for a Roman captain to
scourge a Latin soldier, they promoted the passing of that law. And
Livius, in all his speeches to the people, always told them, that he
proposed no laws but such as were agreeable to the senate, who had a
particular regard to the people's advantage. And this truly was the
only point in all his proceedings which was of any real service, as it
created more kindly feelings towards the senate in the people; and
whereas they formerly suspected and hated the principal senators,
Livius appeased and mitigated this perverseness and animosity, by his
profession that he had done nothing in favor and for the benefit of the
commons, without their advice and approbation.
But the greatest credit which Drusus got for kindness and justice
towards the people was, that he never seemed to propose any law for his
own sake, or his own advantage; he committed the charge of seeing the
colonies rightly settled to other commissioners; neither did he ever
concern himself with the distribution of the moneys; whereas Caius
always took the principal part in any important transactions of this
kind. Rubrius, another tribune of the people, had proposed to have
Carthage again inhabited, which had been demolished by Scipio, and it
fell to Caius's lot to see this performed, and for that purpose he
sailed to Africa. Drusus took this opportunity of his absence to
insinuate himself still more into the peoples' affections, which he did
chiefly by accusing Fulvius, who was a particular friend to Caius, and
was appointed a commissioner with him for the division of the lands.
Fulvius was a man of a turbulent spirit, and notoriously hated by the
senate; and besides, he was suspected by others to have fomented the
differences between the citizens and their confederates, and underhand
to be inciting the Italians to rebel; though there was little other
evidence of the truth of these accusations, than his being an unsettled
character, and of a well-known seditious temper. This was one principal
cause of Caius's ruin; for part of the envy which fell upon Fulvius,
was extended to him. And when Scipio Africanus died suddenly, and no
cause of such an unexpected death could be assigned, only some marks of
blows upon his body seemed to intimate that he had suffered violence,
as is related in the history of his life, the greatest part of the
odium attached to Fulvius, because he was his enemy, and that very day
had reflected upon Scipio in a public address to the people. Nor was
Caius himself clear from suspicion. However, this great outrage,
committed too upon the person of the greatest and most considerable man
in Rome, was never either punished or inquired into thoroughly, for the
populace opposed and hindered any judicial investigation, for fear that
Caius should be implicated in the charge if proceedings were carried
on. This, however, had happened some time before.
But in Africa, where at present Caius was engaged in the repeopling of
Carthage, which he named Junonia, many ominous appearances, which
presaged mischief, are reported to have been sent from the gods. For a
sudden gust of wind falling upon the first standard, and the
standard-bearer holding it fast, the staff broke; another sudden storm
blew away the sacrifices, which were laid upon the altars, and carried
them beyond the bounds laid out for the city; and the wolves came and
carried away the very marks that were set up to show the boundary.
Caius, notwithstanding all this, ordered and dispatched the whole
business in the space of seventy days, and then returned to Rome,
understanding how Fulvius was prosecuted by Drusus, and that the
present juncture of affairs would not suffer him to be absent. For
Lucius Opimius, one who sided with the nobility, and was of no small
authority in the senate, who had formerly sued to be consul, but was
repulsed by Caius's interest, at the time when Fannius was elected, was
in a fair way now of being chosen consul, having a numerous company of
supporters. And it was generally believed, if he did obtain it, that he
would wholly ruin Caius, whose power was already in a declining
condition; and the people were not so apt to admire his actions as
formerly, because there were so many others who every day contrived new
ways to please them, with which the senate readily complied.
After his return to Rome, he quitted his house on the Palatine Mount,
and went to live near the market-place, endeavoring to make himself
more popular in those parts, where most of the humbler and poorer
citizens lived. He then brought forward the remainder of his proposed
laws, as intending to have them ratified by the popular vote; to
support which a vast number of people collected from all quarters. But
the senate persuaded Fannius, the consul, to command all persons who
were not born Romans, to depart the city. A new and unusual
proclamation was thereupon made, prohibiting any of the Allies or
Confederates to appear at Rome during that time. Caius, on the
contrary, published an edict, accusing the consul for what he had done,
and setting forth to the Confederates, that if they would continue upon
the place, they might be assured of his assistance and protection.
However, he was not so good as his word; for though he saw one of his
own familiar friends and companions dragged to prison by Fannius's
officers, he notwithstanding passed by, without assisting him; either
because he was afraid to stand the test of his power, which was already
decreased, or because, as he himself reported, he was unwilling to give
his enemies an opportunity, which they very much desired, of coming to
actual violence and fighting. About that time there happened likewise a
difference between him and his fellow-officers upon this occasion. A
show of gladiators was to be exhibited before the people in the
marketplace, and most of the magistrates erected scaffolds round about,
with an intention of letting them for advantage. Caius commanded them
to take down their scaffolds, that the poor people might see the sport
without paying anything. But nobody obeying these orders of his, he
gathered together a body of laborers, who worked for him, and overthrew
all the scaffolds, the very night before the contest was to take place.
So that by the next morning the market-place was cleared, and the
common people had an opportunity of seeing the pastime. In this, the
populace thought he had acted the part of a man; but he much disobliged
the tribunes, his colleagues, who regarded it as a piece of violent and
presumptuous interference.
This was thought to be the chief reason that he failed of being a third
time elected tribune; not but that he had the most votes, but because
his colleagues out of revenge caused false returns to be made. But as
to this matter there was a controversy. Certain it is, he very much
resented this repulse, and behaved with unusual arrogance towards some
of his adversaries who were joyful at his defeat, telling them, that
all this was but a false, sardonic mirth, as they little knew how much
his actions threw them into obscurity.
As soon as Opimius also was chosen consul, they presently canceled
several of Caius's laws, and especially called in question his
proceedings at Carthage, omitting nothing that was likely to irritate
him, that from some effect of his passion they might find out a
colorable pretense to put him to death. Caius at first bore these
things very patiently; but afterwards, at the instigation of his
friends, especially Fulvius, he resolved to put himself at the head of
a body of supporters, to oppose the consul by force. They say also that
on this occasion his mother, Cornelia, joined in the sedition, and
assisted him by sending privately several strangers into Rome, under
pretense as if they came to be hired there for harvestmen; for that
intimations of this are given in her letters to him. However, it is
confidently affirmed by others, that Cornelia did not in the least
approve of these actions.
When the day came in which Opimius designed to abrogate the laws of
Caius, both parties met very early at the capitol; and the consul
having performed all the rites usual in their sacrifices, one Quintus
Antyllius, an attendant on the consul, carrying out the entrails of the
victim, spoke to Fulvius, and his friends who stood about him, "Ye
factious citizens, make way for honest men." Some report, that besides
this provoking language, he extended his naked arm towards them, as a
piece of scorn and contempt. Upon this he was presently killed with the
strong stiles which are commonly used in writing, though some say that
on this occasion they had been manufactured for this purpose only. This
murder caused a sudden consternation in the whole assembly, and the
heads of each faction had their different sentiments about it. As for
Caius he was much grieved, and severely reprimanded his own party,
because they had given their adversaries a reasonable pretense to
proceed against them, which they had so long hoped for. Opimius,
immediately seizing the occasion thus offered, was in great delight,
and urged the people to revenge; but there happening a great shower of
rain on a sudden, it put an end to the business of that day.
Early the next morning, the consul summoned the senate, and whilst he
advised with the senators in the senate-house, the corpse of Antyllius
was laid upon a bier, and brought through the market-place, being there
exposed to open view, just before the senate-house, with a great deal
of crying and lamentation. Opimius was not at all ignorant that this
was designed to be done; however, he seemed to be surprised, and
wondered what the meaning of it should be; the senators, therefore,
presently went out to know the occasion of it and, standing about the
corpse, uttered exclamations against the inhuman and barbarous act. The
people meantime could not but feel resentment and hatred for the
senators, remembering how they themselves had not only assassinated
Tiberius Gracchus, as he was executing his office in the very capitol,
but had also thrown his mangled body into the river; yet now they could
honor with their presence and their public lamentations in the forum
the corpse of an ordinary hired attendant, (who, though he might
perhaps die wrongfully, was, however, in a great measure the occasion
of it himself,) by these means hoping to undermine him who was the only
remaining defender and safeguard of the people.
The senators, after some time, withdrew, and presently ordered that
Opimius, the consul, should be invested with extraordinary power to
protect the commonwealth and suppress all tyrants. This being decreed,
he presently commanded the senators to arm themselves, and the Roman
knights to be in readiness very early the next morning, and every one
of them to be attended with two servants well armed. Fulvius, on the
other side, made his preparations and collected the populace. Caius at
that time returning from the market-place, made a stop just before his
father's statue, and fixing his eyes for some time upon it, remained in
a deep contemplation; at length he sighed, shed tears, and departed.
This made no small impression upon those who saw it, and they began to
upbraid themselves, that they should desert and betray so worthy a man
as Caius. They therefore went directly to his house, remaining there as
a guard about it all night, though in a different manner from those who
were a guard to Fulvius; for they passed away the night with shouting
and drinking, and Fulvius himself, being the first to get drunk, spoke
and acted many things very unbecoming a man of his age and character.
On the other side, the party which guarded Caius, were quiet and
diligent, relieving one another by turns, and forecasting, as in a
public calamity, what the issue of things might be. As soon as daylight
appeared, they roused Fulvius, who had not yet slept off the effects of
his drinking; and having armed themselves with the weapons hung up in
his house, that were formerly taken from the Gauls, whom he conquered
in the time of his consulship, they presently, with threats and loud
acclamations, made their way towards the Aventine Mount.
Caius could not be persuaded to arm himself, but put on his gown, as if
he had been going to the assembly of the people, only with this
difference, that under it he had then a short dagger by his side. As he
was going out, his wife came running to him at the gate, holding him
with one hand, and with her other a young child of his. She thus
bespoke him: "Alas, Caius, I do not now part with you to let you
address the people, either as a tribune or a lawgiver, nor as if you
were going to some honorable war, when though you might perhaps have
encountered that fate which all must sometime or other submit to, yet
you had left me this mitigation of my sorrow, that my mourning was
respected and honored. You go now to expose your person to the
murderers of Tiberius, unarmed, indeed, and rightly so, choosing rather
to suffer the worst of injuries, than do the least yourself. But even
your very death at this time will not be serviceable to the public
good. Faction prevails; power and arms are now the only measures of
justice. Had your brother fallen before Numantia, the enemy would have
given back what then had remained of Tiberius; but such is my hard
fate, that I probably must be an humble suppliant to the floods or the
waves, that they would somewhere restore to me your relics; for since
Tiberius was not spared, what trust can we place either on the laws, or
in the gods?" Licinia, thus bewailing, Caius, by degrees getting loose
from her embraces, silently withdrew himself, being accompanied by his
friends; she, endeavoring to catch him by the gown, fell prostrate upon
the earth, lying there for some time speechless. Her servants took her
up for dead, and conveyed her to her brother Crassus.
Fulvius, when the people were gathered together in a full body, by the
advice of Caius, sent his youngest son into the market-place, with a
herald's rod in his hand. He, being a very handsome youth, and modestly
addressing himself, with tears in his eyes and a becoming bashfulness,
offered proposals of agreement to the consul and the whole senate. The
greatest part of the assembly were inclinable to accept of the
proposals; but Opimius said, that it did not become them to send
messengers and capitulate with the senate, but to surrender at
discretion to the laws, like loyal citizens, and endeavor to merit
their pardon by submission. He commanded the youth not to return,
unless they would comply with these conditions. Caius, as it is
reported, was very forward to go and clear himself before the senate;
but none of his friends consenting to it, Fulvius sent his son a second
time to intercede for them, as before. But Opimius, who was resolved
that a battle should ensue, caused the youth to be apprehended, and
committed into custody; and then, with a company of his foot-soldiers
and some Cretan archers, set upon the party under Fulvius. These
archers did such execution, and inflicted so many wounds, that a rout
and flight quickly ensued. Fulvius fled into an obscure bathing-house;
but shortly after being discovered, he and his eldest son were slain
together. Caius was not observed to use any violence against anyone;
but, extremely disliking all these outrages, retired to Diana's temple.
There he attempted to kill himself, but was hindered by his faithful
friends, Pomponius and Licinius, they took his sword away from him, and
were very urgent that he would endeavor to make his escape. It is
reported, that falling upon his knee and lifting up his hands, he
prayed the goddess that the Roman people, as a punishment for their
ingratitude and treachery, might always remain in slavery. For as soon
as a proclamation was made of a pardon, the greater part openly
deserted him.
Caius, therefore, endeavored now to make his escape, but was pursued so
close by his enemies, as far as the wooden bridge, that from thence he
narrowly escaped. There his two trusty friends begged of him to
preserve his own person by flight, whilst they in the meantime would
keep their post, and maintain the passage; neither could their enemies,
until they were both slain, pass the bridge. Caius had no other
companion in his flight but one Philocrates, a servant of his. As he
ran along, everybody encouraged him, and wished him success, as
standers-by may do to those who are engaged in a race, but nobody
either lent him any assistance, or would furnish him with a horse,
though he asked for one; for his enemies had gained ground, and got
very near him. However, he had still time enough to hide himself in a
little grove, consecrated to the Furies. In that place, his servant
Philocrates having first slain him, presently afterwards killed himself
also, and fell dead upon his master. Though some affirm it for a truth,
that they were both taken alive by their enemies, and that Philocrates
embraced his master so close, that they could not wound Caius until his
servant was slain.
They say that when Caius's head was cut off, and carried away by one of
his murderers, Septimuleius, Opimius's friend met him, and forced it
from him; because, before the battle began, they had made proclamation,
that whoever should bring the head either of Caius or Fulvius, should,
as a reward, receive its weight in gold. Septimuleius, therefore,
having fixed Caius's head upon the top of his spear, came and presented
it to Opimius. They presently brought the scales, and it was found to
weigh above seventeen pounds. But in this affair, Septimuleius gave as
great signs of his knavery, as he had done before of his cruelty; for
having taken out the brains, he had filled the skull with lead. There
were others who brought the head of Fulvius too, but, being mean,
inconsiderable persons, were turned away without the promised reward.
The bodies of these two persons, as well as of the rest who were slain,
to the number of three thousand men, were all thrown into the river;
their goods were confiscated, and their widows forbidden to put
themselves into mourning. They dealt even more severely with Licinia,
Caius's wife, and deprived her even of her jointure; and as an addition
still to all their inhumanity, they barbarously murdered Fulvius's
youngest son; his only crime being, not that he took up arms against
them, or that he was present in the battle, but merely that he had come
with articles of agreement; for this he was first imprisoned, then
slain.
But that which angered the common people beyond all these things was,
because at this time, in memory of his success, Opimius built the
temple of Concord, as if he gloried and triumphed in the slaughter of
so many citizens. Somebody in the night time, under the inscription of
the temple, added this verse:--
Folly and Discord Concord's temple built.
Yet this Opimius, the first who, being consul, presumed to usurp the
power of a dictator, condemning, without any trial, with three thousand
other citizens, Caius Gracchus and Fulvius Flaccus, one of whom had
triumphed, and been consul, the other far excelled all his
contemporaries in virtue and honor, afterwards was found incapable of
keeping his hands from thieving; and when he was sent ambassador to
Jugurtha, king of Numidia, he was there corrupted by presents, and at
his return being shamefully convicted of it, lost all his honors, and
grew old amidst the hatred and the insults of the people, who, though
humbled, and affrighted at the time, did not fail before long to let
everybody see what respect and veneration they had for the memory of
the Gracchi. They ordered their statues to be made and set up in public
view; they consecrated the places where they were slain, and thither
brought the first-fruits of everything, according to the season of the
year, to make their offerings. Many came likewise thither to their
devotions, and daily worshipped there, as at the temples of the gods.
It is reported, that as Cornelia, their mother, bore the loss of her
two sons with a noble and undaunted spirit, so, in reference to the
holy places in which they were slain, she said, their dead bodies were
well worthy of such sepulchres. She removed afterwards, and dwelt near
the place called Misenum, not at all altering her former way of living.
She had many friends, and hospitably received many strangers at her
house; many Greeks and learned men were continually about her; nor was
there any foreign prince but received gifts from her and presented her
again. Those who were conversant with her, were much interested, when
she pleased to entertain them with her recollections of her father
Scipio Africanus, and of his habits and way of living. But it was most
admirable to hear her make mention of her sons, without any tears or
sign of grief, and give the full account of all their deeds and
misfortunes, as if she had been relating the history of some ancient
heroes. This made some imagine, that age, or the greatness of her
afflictions, had made her senseless and devoid of natural feelings. But
they who so thought, were themselves more truly insensible, not to see
how much a noble nature and education avail to conquer any affliction;
and though fortune may often be more successful, and may defeat the
efforts of virtue to avert misfortunes, it cannot, when we incur them,
prevent our bearing them reasonably.
COMPARISON OF TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS WITH AGIS AND CLEOMENES
Having given an account severally of these persons, it remains only
that we should take a view of them in comparison with one another.
As for the Gracchi, the greatest detractors and their worst enemies
could not but allow, that they had a genius to virtue beyond all other
Romans, which was improved also by a generous education. Agis and
Cleomenes may be supposed to have had stronger natural gifts, since,
though they wanted all the advantages of good education, and were bred
up in those very customs, manners, and habits of living, which had for
a long time corrupted others, yet they were public examples of
temperance and frugality. Besides, the Gracchi, happening to live when
Rome had her greatest repute for honor and virtuous actions, might
justly have been ashamed, if they had not also left to the next
generation the noble inheritance of the virtues of their ancestors.
Whereas the other two had parents of different morals; and though they
found their country in a sinking condition, and debauched, yet that did
not quench their forward zeal to what was just and honorable.
The integrity of the two Romans, and their superiority to money, was
chiefly remarkable in this; that in office and the administration of
public affairs, they kept themselves from the imputation of unjust
gain; whereas Agis might justly be offended, if he had only that mean
commendation given him, that he took nothing wrongfully from any man,
seeing he distributed his own fortunes, which, in ready money only,
amounted to the value of six hundred talents, amongst his
fellow-citizens. Extortion would have appeared a crime of a strange
nature to him, who esteemed it a piece of covetousness to possess,
though never so justly gotten, greater riches than his neighbors.
Their political actions, also, and the state revolutions they
attempted, were very different in magnitude. The chief things in
general that the two Romans commonly aimed at, were the settlement of
cities and mending of highways; and, in particular, the boldest design
which Tiberius is famed for, was the recovery of the public lands; and
Caius gained his greatest reputation by the addition, for the exercise
of judicial powers, of three hundred of the order of knights to the
same number of senators. Whereas the alteration which Agis and
Cleomenes made, was in a quite different kind. They did not set about
removing partial evils and curing petty incidents of disease, which
would have been (as Plato says), like cutting off one of the Hydra's
heads, the very means to increase the number; but they instituted a
thorough reformation, such as would free the country at once from all
its grievances, or rather, to speak more truly, they reversed that
former change which had been the cause of all their calamities, and so
restored their city to its ancient state.
However, this must be confessed in the behalf of the Gracchi, that
their undertakings were always opposed by men of the greatest
influence. On the other side, those things which were first attempted
by Agis, and afterwards consummated by Cleomenes, were supported by the
great and glorious precedent of those ancient laws concerning frugality
and leveling which they had themselves received upon the authority of
Lycurgus, and he had instituted on that of Apollo. It is also further
observable, that from the actions of the Gracchi, Rome received no
additions to her former greatness; whereas, under the conduct of
Cleomenes, Greece presently saw Sparta exert her sovereign power over
all Peloponnesus, and contest the supreme command with the most
powerful princes of the time; success in which would have freed Greece
from Illyrian and Gaulish violence, and placed her once again under the
orderly rule of the sons of Hercules.
From the circumstances of their deaths, also, we may infer some
difference in the quality of their courage. The Gracchi, fighting with
their fellow-citizens, were both slain, as they endeavored to make
their escape; Agis willingly submitted to his fate, rather than any
citizen should be in danger of his life. Cleomenes, being shamefully
and unjustly treated, made an effort toward revenge, but failing of
that, generously fell by his own hand.
On the other side it must be said, that Agis never did a great action
worthy a commander, being prevented by an untimely death. And as for
those heroic actions of Cleomenes, we may justly compare with them that
of Tiberius, when he was the first who attempted to scale the walls of
Carthage, which was no mean exploit. We may add the peace which he
concluded with the Numantines, by which he saved the lives of twenty
thousand Romans, who otherwise had certainly been cut off. And Caius,
not only at home, but in war in Sardinia, displayed distinguished
courage. So that their early actions were no small argument, that
afterwards they might have rivaled the best of the Roman commanders, if
they had not died so young.
In civil life, Agis showed a lack of determination; he let himself be
baffled by the craft of Agesilaus; disappointed the expectations of the
citizens as to the division of the lands, and generally left all the
designs which he had deliberately formed and publicly announced,
unperformed and unfulfilled, through a young man's want of resolution.
Cleomenes, on the other hand, proceeded to effect the revolution with
only too much boldness and violence, and unjustly slew the Ephors, whom
he might, by superiority in arms, have gained over to his party, or
else might easily have banished, as he did several others of the city.
For to use the knife, unless in the extremest necessity, is neither
good surgery nor wise policy, but in both cases mere unskillfulness;
and in the latter, unjust as well as unfeeling. Of the Gracchi, neither
the one nor the other was the first to shed the blood of his
fellow-citizens; and Caius is reported to have avoided all manner of
resistance, even when his life was aimed at, showing himself always
valiant against a foreign enemy, but wholly inactive in a sedition.
This was the reason that he went from his own house unarmed, and
withdrew when the battle began, and in all respects showed himself
anxious rather not to do any harm to others, than not to suffer any
himself. Even the very flight of the Gracchi must not be looked upon as
an argument of their mean spirit, but an honorable retreat from
endangering of others. For if they had stayed, they must either have
yielded to those who assailed them, or else have fought them in their
own defense.
The greatest crime that can be laid to Tiberius's charge, was the
deposing of his fellow tribune, and seeking afterwards a second
tribuneship for himself. As for the death of Antyllius, it is falsely
and unjustly attributed to Caius, for he was slain unknown to him, and
much to his grief. On the contrary, Cleomenes (not to mention the
murder of the Ephors) set all the slaves at liberty, and governed by
himself alone in reality, having a partner only for show; having made
choice of his brother Euclidas, who was one of the same family. He
prevailed upon Archidamus, who was the right heir to the kingdom of the
other line, to venture to return home from Messene; but after his being
slain, by not doing anything to revenge his death, confirmed the
suspicion that he was privy to it himself. Lycurgus, whose example he
professed to imitate, after he had voluntarily settled his kingdom upon
Charillus, his brother's son, fearing lest, if the youth should chance
to die by accident, he might be suspected for it, traveled a long time,
and would not return again to Sparta until Charillus had a son, and an
heir to his kingdom. But we have indeed no other Grecian who is worthy
to be compared with Lycurgus, and it is clear enough that in the public
measures of Cleomenes various acts of considerable audacity and
lawlessness may be found.
Those, therefore, who incline to blame their characters, may observe,
that the two Grecians were disturbers even from their youth, lovers of
contest, and aspirants to despotic power; that Tiberius and Caius by
nature had an excessive desire after glory and honors. Beyond this,
their enemies could find nothing to bring against them; but as soon as
the contention began with their adversaries, their heat and passions
would so far prevail beyond their natural temper, that by them, as by
ill winds, they were driven afterwards to all their rash undertakings.
What could be more just and honorable than their first design, had not
the power and the faction of the rich, by endeavoring to abrogate that
law, engaged them both in those fatal quarrels, the one, for his own
preservation, the other, to revenge his brother's death, who was
murdered without any law or justice?
From the account, therefore, which has been given, you yourself may
perceive the difference; which if it were to be pronounced of every one
singly, I should affirm Tiberius to have excelled them all in virtue;
that young Agis had been guilty of the fewest misdeeds; and that in
action and boldness Caius came far short of Cleomenes.
DEMOSTHENES
Whoever it was, Sosius, that wrote the poem in honor of Alcibiades,
upon his winning the chariot race at the Olympian Games, whether it
were Euripides, as is most commonly thought, or some other person, he
tells us, that to a man's being happy it is in the first place
requisite he should be born in "some famous city." But for him that
would attain to true happiness, which for the most part is placed in
the qualities and disposition of the mind, it is, in my opinion, of no
other disadvantage to be of a mean, obscure country, than to be born of
a small or plain-looking woman. For it were ridiculous to think that
Iulis, a little part of Ceos, which itself is no great island, and
Aegina, which an Athenian once said ought to be removed, like a small
eye-sore, from the port of Piraeus, should breed good actors and poets,
and yet should never be able to produce a just, temperate, wise, and
high-minded man. Other arts, whose end it is to acquire riches or
honor, are likely enough to wither and decay in poor and
undistinguished towns; but virtue, like a strong and durable plant, may
take root and thrive in any place where it can lay hold of an ingenuous
nature, and a mind that is industrious. I, for my part, shall desire
that for any deficiency of mine in right judgment or action, I myself
may be, as in fairness, held accountable, and shall not attribute it to
the obscurity of my birthplace.
But if any man undertake to write a history, that has to be collected
from materials gathered by observation and the reading of works not
easy to be got in all places, nor written always in his own language,
but many of them foreign and dispersed in other hands, for him,
undoubtedly, it is in the first place and above all things most
necessary, to reside in some city of good note, addicted to liberal
arts, and populous; where he may have plenty of all sorts of books, and
upon inquiry may hear and inform himself of such particulars as, having
escaped the pens of writers, are more faithfully preserved in the
memories of men, lest his work be deficient in many things, even those
which it can least dispense with.
But for me, I live in a little town, where I am willing to continue,
lest it should grow less; and having had no leisure, while I was in
Rome and other parts of Italy, to exercise myself in the Roman
language, on account of public business and of those who came to be
instructed by me in philosophy, it was very late, and in the decline of
my age, before I applied myself to the reading of Latin authors. Upon
which that which happened to me, may seem strange, though it be true;
for it was not so much by the knowledge of words, that I came to the
understanding of things, as by my experience of things I was enabled to
follow the meaning of words. But to appreciate the graceful and ready
pronunciation of the Roman tongue, to understand the various figures
and connection of words, and such other ornaments, in which the beauty
of speaking consists, is, I doubt not, an admirable and delightful
accomplishment; but it requires a degree of practice and study, which
is not easy, and will better suit those who have more leisure, and time
enough yet before them for the occupation.
And so in this fifth book of my Parallel Lives, in giving an account of
Demosthenes and Cicero, my comparison of their natural dispositions and
their characters will be formed upon their actions and their lives as
statesmen, and I shall not pretend to criticize their orations one
against the other, to show which of the two was the more charming or
the more powerful speaker. For there, as Ion says,
We are but like a fish upon dry land;
a proverb which Caecilius perhaps forgot, when he employed his always
adventurous talents in so ambitious an attempt as a comparison of
Demosthenes and Cicero: and, possibly, if it were a thing obvious and
easy for every man to know himself, the precept had not passed for an
oracle.
The divine power seems originally to have designed Demosthenes and
Cicero upon the same plan, giving them many similarities in their
natural characters, as their passion for distinction and their love of
liberty in civil life, and their want of courage in dangers and war,
and at the same time also to have added many accidental resemblances. I
think there can hardly be found two other orators, who, from small and
obscure beginnings, became so great and mighty; who both contested with
kings and tyrants; both lost their daughters, were driven out of their
country, and returned with honor; who, flying from thence again, were
both seized upon by their enemies, and at last ended their lives with
the liberty of their countrymen. So that if we were to suppose there
had been a trial of skill between nature and fortune, as there is
sometimes between artists, it would be hard to judge, whether that
succeeded best in making them alike in their dispositions and manners,
or this, in the coincidences of their lives. We will speak of the
eldest first.
Demosthenes, the father of Demosthenes, was a citizen of good rank and
quality, as Theopompus informs us, surnamed the Sword-maker, because he
had a large workhouse, and kept servants skillful in that art at work.
But of that which Aeschines, the orator, said of his mother, that she
was descended of one Gylon, who fled his country upon an accusation of
treason, and of a barbarian woman, I can affirm nothing, whether he
spoke true, or slandered and maligned her. This is certain, that
Demosthenes, being as yet but seven years old, was left by his father
in affluent circumstances, the whole value of his estate being little
short of fifteen talents, and that he was wronged by his guardians,
part of his fortune being embezzled by them, and the rest neglected;
insomuch that even his teachers were defrauded of their salaries. This
was the reason that he did not obtain the liberal education that he
should have had; besides that on account of weakness and delicate
health, his mother would not let him exert himself, and his teachers
forbore to urge him. He was meager and sickly from the first, and hence
had his nickname of Batalus, given him, it is said, by the boys, in
derision of his appearance; Batalus being, as some tell us, a certain
enervated flute-player, in ridicule of whom Antiphanes wrote a play.
Others speak of Batalus as a writer of wanton verses and drinking
songs. And it would seem that some part of the body, not decent to be
named, was at that time called batalus by the Athenians. But the name
of Argas, which also they say was a nickname of Demosthenes, was given
him for his behavior, as being savage and spiteful, argas being one of
the poetical words for a snake; or for his disagreeable way of
speaking, Argas being the name of a poet, who composed very harshly and
disagreeably. So much, as Plato says, for such matters.
The first occasion of his eager inclination to oratory they say, was
this. Callistratus, the orator, being to plead in open court for
Oropus, the expectation of the issue of that cause was very great, as
well for the ability of the orator, who was then at the height of his
reputation, as also for the fame of the action itself. Therefore,
Demosthenes, having heard the tutors and schoolmasters agreeing among
themselves to be present at this trial, with much importunity persuades
his tutor to take him along with him to the hearing; who, having some
acquaintance with the doorkeepers, procured a place where the boy might
sit unseen, and hear what was said. Callistratus having got the day,
and being much admired, the boy began to look upon his glory with a
kind of emulation, observing how he was courted on all hands, and
attended on his way by the multitude; but his wonder was more than all
excited by the power of his eloquence, which seemed able to subdue and
win over anything. From this time, therefore, bidding farewell to other
sorts of learning and study, he now began to exercise himself, and to
take pains in declaiming, as one that meant to be himself also an
orator. He made use of Isaeus as his guide to the art of speaking,
though Isocrates at that time was giving lessons; whether, as some say,
because he was an orphan, and was not able to pay Isocrates his
appointed fee of ten minae, or because he preferred Isaeus's speaking,
as being more business-like and effective in actual use. Hermippus
says, that he met with certain memoirs without any author's name, in
which it was written that Demosthenes was a scholar to Plato, and
learnt much of his eloquence from him; and he also mentions Ctesibius,
as reporting from Callias of Syracuse and some others, that Demosthenes
secretly obtained a knowledge of the systems of Isocrates and
Alcidamas, and mastered them thoroughly.
As soon, therefore, as he was grown up to man's estate, he began to go
to law with his guardians, and to write orations against them; who, in
the meantime, had recourse to various subterfuges and pleas for new
trials, and Demosthenes, though he was thus, as Thucydides says, taught
his business in dangers, and by his own exertions was successful in his
suit, was yet unable for all this to recover so much as a small
fraction of his patrimony. He only attained some degree of confidence
in speaking, and some competent experience in it. And having got a
taste of the honor and power which are acquired by pleadings, he now
ventured to come forth, and to undertake public business. And, as it is
said of Laomedon, the Orchomenian, that by advice of his physician, he
used to run long distances to keep off some disease of his spleen, and
by that means having, through labor and exercise, framed the habit of
his body, he betook himself to the great garland games, and became one
of the best runners at the long race; so it happened to Demosthenes,
who, first venturing upon oratory for the recovery of his own private
property, by this acquired ability in speaking, and at length, in
public business, as it were in the great games, came to have the
preeminence of all competitors in the assembly. But when he first
addressed himself to the people, he met with great discouragements, and
was derided for his strange and uncouth style, which was cumbered with
long sentences and tortured with formal arguments to a most harsh and
disagreeable excess. Besides, he had, it seems, a weakness in his
voice, a perplexed and indistinct utterance and a shortness of breath,
which, by breaking and disjointing his sentences much obscured the
sense and meaning of what he spoke. So that in the end, being quite
disheartened, he forsook the assembly; and as he was walking carelessly
and sauntering about the Piraeus, Eunomus, the Thriasian, then a very
old man, seeing him, upbraided him, saying that his diction was very
much like that of Pericles, and that he was wanting to himself through
cowardice and meanness of spirit, neither bearing up with courage
against popular outcry, nor fitting his body for action, but suffering
it to languish through mere sloth and negligence.
Another time, when the assembly had refused to hear him, and he was
going home with his head muffled up, taking it very heavily, they
relate that Satyrus, the actor, followed him, and being his familiar
acquaintance, entered into conversation with him. To whom, when
Demosthenes bemoaned himself, that having been the most industrious of
all the pleaders, and having almost spent the whole strength and vigor
of his body in that employment, he could not yet find any acceptance
with the people, that drunken sots, mariners, and illiterate fellows
were heard, and had the hustings for their own, while he himself was
despised, "You say true, Demosthenes," replied Satyrus, "but I will
quickly remedy the cause of all this, if you will repeat to me some
passage out of Euripides or Sophocles." Which when Demosthenes had
pronounced, Satyrus presently taking it up after him gave the same
passage, in his rendering of it, such a new form, by accompanying it
with the proper mien and gesture, that to Demosthenes it seemed quite
another thing. By this being convinced how much grace and ornament
language acquires from action, he began to esteem it a small matter,
and as good as nothing for a man to exercise himself in declaiming, if
he neglected enunciation and delivery. Hereupon he built himself a
place to study in underground, (which was still remaining in our time,)
and hither he would come constantly every day to form his action, and
to exercise his voice; and here he would continue, oftentimes without
intermission, two or three months together, shaving one half of his
head, that so for shame he might not go abroad, though he desired it
ever so much.
Nor was this all, but he also made his conversation with people abroad,
his common speech, and his business, subservient to his studies, taking
from hence occasions and arguments as matter to work upon. For as soon
as he was parted from his company, down he would go at once into his
study, and run over everything in order that had passed, and the
reasons that might be alleged for and against it. Any speeches, also,
that he was present at, he would go over again with himself, and reduce
into periods; and whatever others spoke to him, or he to them, he would
correct, transform, and vary several ways. Hence it was, that he was
looked upon as a person of no great natural genius, but one who owed
all the power and ability he had in speaking to labor and industry. Of
the truth of which it was thought to be no small sign, that he was very
rarely heard to speak upon the occasion, but though he were by name
frequently called upon by the people, as he sat in the assembly, yet he
would not rise unless he had previously considered the subject, and
came prepared for it. So that many of the popular pleaders used to make
it a jest against him; and Pytheas once, scoffing at him, said that his
arguments smelt of the lamp. To which Demosthenes gave the sharp
answer, "It is true, indeed, Pytheas, that your lamp and mine are not
conscious of the same things." To others, however, he would not much
deny it, but would admit frankly enough, that he neither entirely wrote
his speeches beforehand, nor yet spoke wholly extempore. And he would
affirm, that it was the more truly popular act to use premeditation,
such preparation being a kind of respect to the people; whereas, to
slight and take no care how what is said is likely to be received by
the audience, shows something of an oligarchical temper, and is the
course of one that intends force rather than persuasion. Of his want of
courage and assurance to speak off-hand, they make it also another
argument, that when he was at a loss, and discomposed, Demades would
often rise up on the sudden to support him, but he was never observed
to do the same for Demades.
Whence then, may some say, was it, that Aeschines speaks of him as a
person so much to be wondered at for his boldness in speaking? Or, how
could it be, when Python, the Byzantine, "with so much confidence and
such a torrent of words inveighed against" the Athenians, that
Demosthenes alone stood up to oppose him? Or, when Lamachus, the
Myrinaean, had written a panegyric upon king Philip and Alexander, in
which he uttered many things in reproach of the Thebans and Olynthians,
and at the Olympic Games recited it publicly, how was it, that he,
rising up, and recounting historically and demonstratively what
benefits and advantages all Greece had received from the Thebans and
Chalcidians, and on the contrary, what mischiefs the flatterers of the
Macedonians had brought upon it, so turned the minds of all that were
present that the sophist, in alarm at the outcry against him, secretly
made his way out of the assembly? But Demosthenes, it should seem,
regarded other points in the character of Pericles to be unsuited to
him; but his reserve and his sustained manner, and his forbearing to
speak on the sudden, or upon every occasion, as being the things to
which principally he owed his greatness, these he followed, and
endeavored to imitate, neither wholly neglecting the glory which
present occasion offered, nor yet willing too often to expose his
faculty to the mercy of chance. For, in fact, the orations which were
spoken by him had much more of boldness and confidence in them than
those that he wrote, if we may believe Eratosthenes, Demetrius the
Phalerian, and the Comedians. Eratosthenes says that often in his
speaking he would be transported into a kind of ecstasy, and Demetrius,
that he uttered the famous metrical adjuration to the people,
By the earth, the springs, the rivers, and the streams,
as a man inspired, and beside himself. One of the comedians calls him a
rhopoperperethras, and another scoffs at him for his use of antithesis:
--
And what he took, took back; a phrase to please
The very fancy of Demosthenes.
Unless, indeed, this also is meant by Antiphanes for a jest upon the
speech on Halonesus, which Demosthenes advised the Athenians not to
take at Philip's hands, but to take back.
All, however, used to consider Demades, in the mere use of his natural
gifts, an orator impossible to surpass, and that in what he spoke on
the sudden, he excelled all the study and preparation of Demosthenes.
And Ariston the Chian, has recorded a judgment which Theophrastus
passed upon the orators; for being asked what kind of orator he
accounted Demosthenes, he answered, "Worthy of the city of Athens;" and
then, what he thought of Demades, he answered, "Above it." And the same
philosopher reports, that Polyeuctus, the Sphettian, one of the
Athenian politicians about that time, was wont to say that Demosthenes
was the greatest orator, but Phocion the ablest, as he expressed the
most sense in the fewest words. And, indeed, it is related, that
Demosthenes himself, as often as Phocion stood up to plead against him,
would say to his acquaintance, "Here comes the knife to my speech." Yet
it does not appear whether he had this feeling for his powers of
speaking, or for his life and character, and meant to say that one word
or nod from a man who was really trusted, would go further than a
thousand lengthy periods from others.
Demetrius, the Phalerian, tells us, that he was informed by Demosthenes
himself, now grown old, that the ways he made use of to remedy his
natural bodily infirmities and defects were such as these; his
inarticulate and stammering pronunciation he overcame and rendered more
distinct by speaking with pebbles in his mouth; his voice he
disciplined by declaiming and reciting speeches or verses when he was
out of breath, while running or going up steep places; and that in his
house he had a large looking-glass, before which he would stand and go
through his exercises. It is told that someone once came to request his
assistance as a pleader, and related how he had been assaulted and
beaten. "Certainly," said Demosthenes, "nothing of the kind can have
happened to you." Upon which the other, raising his voice, exclaimed
loudly, "What, Demosthenes, nothing has been done to me?" "Ah," replied
Demosthenes, "now I hear the voice of one that has been injured and
beaten." Of so great consequence towards the gaining of belief did he
esteem the tone and action of the speaker. The action which he used
himself was wonderfully pleasing to the common people; but by
well-educated people, as, for example, by Demetrius, the Phalerian, it
was looked upon as mean, humiliating, and unmanly. And Hermippus says
of Aesion, that, being asked his opinion concerning the ancient orators
and those of his own time, he answered that it was admirable to see
with what composure and in what high style they addressed themselves to
the people; but that the orations of Demosthenes, when they are read,
certainly appear to be superior in point of construction, and more
effective. His written speeches, beyond all question, are characterized
by austere tone and by their severity. In his extempore retorts and
rejoinders, he allowed himself the use of jest and mockery. When
Demades said, "Demosthenes teach me! So might the sow teach Minerva!"
he replied, "Was it this Minerva, that was lately found playing the
harlot in Collytus?" When a thief, who had the nickname of the Brazen,
was attempting to upbraid him for sitting up late, and writing by
candlelight, "I know very well," said he, "that you had rather have all
lights out; and wonder not, O ye men of Athens, at the many robberies
which are committed, since we have thieves of brass and walls of clay."
But on these points, though we have much more to mention, we will add
nothing at present. We will proceed to take an estimate of his
character from his actions and his life as a statesman.
His first entering into public business was much about the time of the
Phocian war, as himself affirms, and may be collected from his
Philippic orations. For of these, some were made after that action was
over, and the earliest of them refer to its concluding events. It is
certain that he engaged in the accusation of Midias when he was but two
and thirty years old, having as yet no interest or reputation as a
politician. And this it was, I consider, that induced him to withdraw
the action, and accept a sum of money as a compromise. For of himself
He was no easy or good-natured man,
but of a determined disposition, and resolute to see himself righted;
however, finding it a hard matter and above his strength to deal with
Midias, a man so well secured on all sides with money, eloquence, and
friends, he yielded to the entreaties of those who interceded for him.
But had he seen any hopes or possibility of prevailing, I cannot
believe that three thousand drachmas could have taken off the edge of
his revenge. The object which he chose for himself in the commonwealth
was noble and just, the defense of the Grecians against Philip; and in
this he behaved himself so worthily that he soon grew famous, and
excited attention everywhere for his eloquence and courage in speaking.
He was admired through all Greece, the king of Persia courted him, and
by Philip himself he was more esteemed than all the other orators. His
very enemies were forced to confess that they had to do with a man of
mark; for such a character even Aeschines and Hyperides give him, where
they accuse and speak against him.
So that I cannot imagine what ground Theopompus had to say, that
Demosthenes was of a fickle, unsettled disposition, and could not long
continue firm either to the same men or the same affairs; whereas the
contrary is most apparent, for the same party and post in politics
which he held from the beginning, to these he kept constant to the end;
and was so far from leaving them while he lived, that he chose rather
to forsake his life than his purpose. He was never heard to apologize
for shifting sides like Demades, who would say, he often spoke against
himself, but never against the city; nor as Melanopus, who, being
generally against Callistratus, but being often bribed off with money,
was wont to tell the people, "The man indeed is my enemy, but we must
submit for the good of our country;" nor again as Nicodemus, the
Messenian, who having first appeared on Cassander's side, and
afterwards taken part with Demetrius, said the two things were not in
themselves contrary, it being always most advisable to obey the
conqueror. We have nothing of this kind to say against Demosthenes, as
one who would turn aside or prevaricate, either in word or deed. There
could not have been less variation in his public acts if they had all
been played, so to say, from first to last, from the same score.
Panaetius, the philosopher, said, that most of his orations are so
written, as if they were to prove this one conclusion, that what is
honest and virtuous is for itself only to be chosen; as that of the
Crown, that against Aristocrates, that for the Immunities, and the
Philippics; in all which he persuades his fellow-citizens to pursue not
that which seems most pleasant, easy, or profitable; but declares over
and over again, that they ought in the first place to prefer that which
is just and honorable, before their own safety and preservation. So
that if he had kept his hands clean, if his courage for the wars had
been answerable to the generosity of his principles, and the dignity of
his orations, he might deservedly have his name placed, not in the
number of such orators as Moerocles, Polyeuctus, and Hyperides, but in
the highest rank with Cimon, Thucydides, and Pericles.
Certainly amongst those who were contemporary with him, Phocion, though
he appeared on the less commendable side in the commonwealth, and was
counted as one of the Macedonian party, nevertheless, by his courage
and his honesty, procured himself a name not inferior to those of
Ephialtes, Aristides, and Cimon. But Demosthenes, being neither fit to
be relied on for courage in arms, as Demetrius says, nor on all sides
inaccessible to bribery (for how invincible soever he was against the
gifts of Philip and the Macedonians, yet elsewhere he lay open to
assault, and was overpowered by the gold which came down from Susa and
Ecbatana), was therefore esteemed better able to recommend than to
imitate the virtues of past times. And yet (excepting only Phocion),
even in his life and manners, he far surpassed the other orators of his
time. None of them addressed the people so boldly; he attacked the
faults, and opposed himself to the unreasonable desires of the
multitude, as may be seen in his orations. Theopompus writes, that the
Athenians having by name selected Demosthenes, and called upon him to
accuse a certain person, he refused to do it; upon which the assembly
being all in an uproar, he rose up and said, "Your counselor, whether
you will or no, O ye men of Athens, you shall always have me; but a
sycophant or false accuser, though you would have me, I shall never
be." And his conduct in the case of Antiphon was perfectly
aristocratical; whom, after he had been acquitted in the assembly, he
took and brought before the court of Areopagus, and, setting at naught
the displeasure of the people, convicted him there of having promised
Philip to burn the arsenal; whereupon the man was condemned by that
court, and suffered for it. He accused, also, Theoris, the priestess,
amongst other misdemeanors, of having instructed and taught the slaves
to deceive and cheat their masters, for which the sentence of death
passed upon her, and she was executed.
The oration which Apollodorus made use of, and by it carried the cause
against Timotheus, the general, in an action of debt, it is said was
written for him by Demosthenes; as also those against Phormion and
Stephanus, in which latter case he was thought to have acted
dishonorably, for the speech which Phormion used against Apollodorus
was also of his making; he, as it were, having simply furnished two
adversaries out of the same shop with weapons to wound one another. Of
his orations addressed to the public assemblies, that against
Androtion, and those against Timocrates and Aristocrates, were written
for others, before he had come forward himself as a politician. They
were composed, it seems, when he was but seven or eight and twenty
years old. That against Aristogiton, and that for the Immunities, he
spoke himself, at the request, as he says, of Ctesippus, the son of
Chabrias, but, as some say, out of courtship to the young man's mother.
Though, in fact, he did not marry her, for his wife was a woman of
Samos, as Demetrius, the Magnesian, writes, in his book on Persons of
the same Name. It is not certain whether his oration against Aeschines,
for Misconduct as Ambassador, was ever spoken; although Idomeneus says
that Aeschines wanted only thirty voices to condemn him. But this seems
not to be correct, at least so far as may be conjectured from both
their orations concerning the Crown; for in these, neither of them
speaks clearly or directly of it, as a cause that ever came to trial.
But let others decide this controversy.
It was evident, even in time of peace, what course Demosthenes would
steer in the commonwealth; for whatever was done by the Macedonian, he
criticized and found fault with, and upon all occasions was stirring up
the people of Athens, and inflaming them against him. Therefore, in the
court of Philip, no man was so much talked of, or of so great account
as he; and when he came thither, one of the ten ambassadors who were
sent into Macedonia, though all had audience given them, yet his speech
was answered with most care and exactness. But in other respects,
Philip entertained him not so honorably as the rest, neither did he
show him the same kindness and civility with which he applied himself
to the party of Aeschines and Philocrates. So that, when the others
commended Philip for his able speaking, his beautiful person, nay, and
also for his good companionship in drinking, Demosthenes could not
refrain from caviling at these praises; the first, he said, was a
quality which might well enough become a rhetorician, the second a
woman, and the last was only the property of a sponge; no one of them
was the proper commendation of a prince.
But when things came at last to war, Philip on the one side being not
able to live in peace, and the Athenians, on the other side, being
stirred up by Demosthenes, the first action he put them upon was the
reducing of Euboea, which, by the treachery of the tyrants, was brought
under subjection to Philip. And on his proposition, the decree was
voted, and they crossed over thither and chased the Macedonians out of
the island. The next, was the relief of the Byzantines and Perinthians,
whom the Macedonians at that time were attacking. He persuaded the
people to lay aside their enmity against these cities, to forget the
offenses committed by them in the Confederate War, and to send them
such succors as eventually saved and secured them. Not long after, he
undertook an embassy through the States of Greece, which he solicited
and so far incensed against Philip, that, a few only excepted, he
brought them all into a general league. So that, besides the forces
composed of the citizens themselves, there was an army consisting of
fifteen thousand foot and two thousand horse, and the money to pay
these strangers was levied and brought in with great cheerfulness. On
which occasion it was, says Theophrastus, on the allies requesting that
their contributions for the war might be ascertained and stated,
Crobylus, the orator, made use of the saying, "War can't be fed at so
much a day." Now was all Greece up in arms, and in great expectation
what would be the event. The Euboeans, the Achaeans, the Corinthians,
the Megarians, the Leucadians, and Corcyraeans, their people and their
cities, were all joined together in a league. But the hardest task was
yet behind, left for Demosthenes, to draw the Thebans into this
confederacy with the rest. Their country bordered next upon Attica,
they had great forces for the war, and at that time they were accounted
the best soldiers of all Greece, but it was no easy matter to make them
break with Philip, who, by many good offices, had so lately obliged
them in the Phocian war; especially considering how the subjects of
dispute and variance between the two cities were continually renewed
and exasperated by petty quarrels, arising out of the proximity of
their frontiers.
But after Philip, being now grown high and puffed up with his good
success at Amphissa, on a sudden surprised Elatea and possessed himself
of Phocis, and the Athenians were in a great consternation, none durst
venture to rise up to speak, no one knew what to say, all were at a
loss, and the whole assembly in silence and perplexity, in this
extremity of affairs, Demosthenes was the only man who appeared, his
counsel to them being alliance with the Thebans. And having in other
ways encouraged the people, and, as his manner was, raised their
spirits up with hopes, he, with some others, was sent ambassador to
Thebes. To oppose him, as Marsyas says, Philip also sent thither his
envoys, Amyntas and Clearellus, two Macedonians, besides Daochus, a
Thessalian, and Thrasydaeus. Now the Thebans, in their consultations,
were well enough aware what suited best with their own interest, but
everyone had before his eyes the terrors of war, and their losses in
the Phocian troubles were still recent: but such was the force and
power of the orator, fanning up, as Theopompus says, their courage, and
firing their emulation, that casting away every thought of prudence,
fear, or obligation, in a sort of divine possession, they chose the
path of honor, to which his words invited them. And this success, thus
accomplished by an orator, was thought to be so glorious and of such
consequence, that Philip immediately sent heralds to treat and petition
for a peace: all Greece was aroused, and up in arms to help. And the
commanders-in-chief, not only of Attica, but of Boeotia, applied
themselves to Demosthenes, and observed his directions. He managed all
the assemblies of the Thebans, no less than those of the Athenians; he
was beloved both by the one and by the other, and exercised the same
supreme authority with both; and that not by unfair means, or without
just cause, as Theopompus professes, but indeed it was no more than was
due to his merit.
But there was, it should seem, some divinely-ordered fortune,
commissioned, in the revolution of things, to put a period at this time
to the liberty of Greece, which opposed and thwarted all their actions,
and by many signs foretold what should happen. Such were the sad
predictions uttered by the Pythian priestess, and this old oracle cited
out of the Sibyl's verses, --
The battle on Thermodon that shall be
Safe at a distance I desire to see,
Far, like an eagle, watching in the air.
Conquered shall weep, and conqueror perish there.
This Thermodon, they say, is a little rivulet here in our country in
Chaeronea, running into the Cephisus. But we know of none that is so
called at the present time; and can only conjecture that the streamlet
which is now called Haemon, and runs by the Temple of Hercules, where
the Grecians were encamped, might perhaps in those days be called
Thermodon, and after the fight, being filled with blood and dead
bodies, upon this occasion, as we guess, might change its old name for
that which it now bears. Yet Duris says that this Thermodon was no
river, but that some of the soldiers, as they were pitching their tents
and digging trenches about them, found a small stone statue, which, by
the inscription, appeared to be the figure of Thermodon, carrying a
wounded Amazon in his arms; and that there was another oracle current
about it, as follows: --
The battle on Thermodon that shall be,
Fail not, black raven, to attend and see;
The flesh of men shall there abound for thee.
In fine, it is not easy to determine what is the truth. But of
Demosthenes it is said, that he had such great confidence in the
Grecian forces, and was so excited by the sight of the courage and
resolution of so many brave men ready to engage the enemy, that he
would by no means endure they should give any heed to oracles, or
hearken to prophecies, but gave out that he suspected even the
prophetess herself, as if she had been tampered with to speak in favor
of Philip. The Thebans he put in mind of Epaminondas, the Athenians, of
Pericles, who always took their own measures and governed their actions
by reason, looking upon things of this kind as mere pretexts for
cowardice. Thus far, therefore, Demosthenes acquitted himself like a
brave man. But in the fight he did nothing honorable, nor was his
performance answerable to his speeches. For he fled, deserting his
place disgracefully, and throwing away his arms, not ashamed, as
Pytheas observed, to belie the inscription written on his shield, in
letters of gold, "With good fortune."
In the meantime Philip, in the first moment of victory, was so
transported with joy, that he grew extravagant, and going out, after he
had drunk largely, to visit the dead bodies, he chanted the first words
of the decree that had been passed on the motion of Demosthenes,
The motion of Demosthenes, Demosthenes's son,
dividing it metrically into feet, and marking the beats.
But when he came to himself, and had well considered the danger he was
lately under, he could not forbear from shuddering at the wonderful
ability and power of an orator who had made him hazard his life and
empire on the issue of a few brief hours. The fame of it also reached
even to the court of Persia, and the king sent letters to his
lieutenants, commanding them to supply Demosthenes with money, and to
pay every attention to him, as the only man of all the Grecians who was
able to give Philip occupation and find employment for his forces near
home, in the troubles of Greece. This afterwards came to the knowledge
of Alexander, by certain letters of Demosthenes which he found at
Sardis, and by other papers of the Persian officers, stating the large
sums which had been given him.
At this time, however, upon the ill success which now happened to the
Grecians, those of the contrary faction in the commonwealth fell foul
upon Demosthenes, and took the opportunity to frame several
informations and indictments against him. But the people not only
acquitted him of these accusations, but continued towards him their
former respect, and still invited him, as a man that meant well, to
take a part in public affairs. Insomuch that when the bones of those
who had been slain at Chaeronea were brought home to be solemnly
interred, Demosthenes was the man they chose to make the funeral
oration. They did not show, under the misfortunes which befell them, a
base or ignoble mind, as Theopompus writes in his exaggerated style,
but, on the contrary, by the honor and respect paid to their counselor,
they made it appear that they were noway dissatisfied with the counsels
he had given them. The speech, therefore, was spoken by Demosthenes.
But the subsequent decrees he would not allow to be passed in his own
name, but made use of those of his friends, one after another, looking
upon his own as unfortunate and inauspicious; till at length he took
courage again after the death of Philip, who did not long outlive his
victory at Chaeronea. And this, it seems, was that which was foretold
in the last verse of the oracle,
Conquered shall weep, and conqueror perish there.
Demosthenes had secret intelligence of the death of Philip, and laying
hold of this opportunity to prepossess the people with courage and
better hopes for the future, he came into the assembly with a cheerful
countenance, pretending to have had a dream that presaged some great
good fortune for Athens; and, not long after, arrived the messengers
who brought the news of Philip's death. No sooner had the people
received it but immediately they offered sacrifice to the gods, and
decreed that Pausanias should be presented with a crown. Demosthenes
appeared publicly in a rich dress, with a chaplet on his head, though
it were but the seventh day since the death of his daughter, as is said
by Aeschines, who upbraids him upon this account, and rails at him as
one void of natural affection towards his children. Whereas, indeed, he
rather betrays himself to be of a poor, low spirit, and effeminate
mind, if he really means to make wailings and lamentation the only
signs of a gentle and affectionate nature, and to condemn those who
bear such accidents with more temper and less passion. For my own part,
I cannot say that the behavior of the Athenians on this occasion was
wise or honorable, to crown themselves with garlands and to sacrifice
to the Gods for the death of a Prince who, in the midst of his success
and victories, when they were a conquered people, had used them with so
much clemency and humanity. For besides provoking fortune, it was a
base thing, and unworthy in itself, to make him a citizen of Athens,
and pay him honors while he lived, and yet as soon as he fell by
another's hand, to set no bounds to their jollity, to insult over him
dead, and to sing triumphant songs of victory, as if by their own valor
they had vanquished him. I must at the same time commend the behavior
of Demosthenes, who, leaving tears and lamentations and domestic
sorrows to the women, made it his business to attend to the interests
of the commonwealth. And I think it the duty of him who would be
accounted to have a soul truly valiant, and fit for government, that,
standing always firm to the common good, and letting private griefs and
troubles find their compensation in public blessings, he should
maintain the dignity of his character and station, much more than
actors who represent the persons of kings and tyrants, who, we see,
when they either laugh or weep on the stage, follow, not their own
private inclinations, but the course consistent with the subject and
with their position. And if, moreover, when our neighbor is in
misfortune, it is not our duty to forbear offering any consolation, but
rather to say whatever may tend to cheer him, and to invite his
attention to any agreeable objects, just as we tell people who are
troubled with sore eyes, to withdraw their sight from bright and
offensive colors to green, and those of a softer mixture, from whence
can a man seek, in his own case, better arguments of consolation for
afflictions in his family, than from the prosperity of his country, by
making public and domestic chances count, so to say, together, and the
better fortune of the state obscure and conceal the less happy
circumstances of the individual. I have been induced to say so much,
because I have known many readers melted by Aeschines's language into a
soft and unmanly tenderness.
But now to return to my narrative. The cities of Greece were inspirited
once more by the efforts of Demosthenes to form a league together. The
Thebans, whom he had provided with arms, set upon their garrison, and
slew many of them; the Athenians made preparations to join their forces
with them; Demosthenes ruled supreme in the popular assembly, and wrote
letters to the Persian officers who commanded under the king in Asia,
inciting them to make war upon the Macedonian, calling him child and
simpleton. But as soon as Alexander had settled matters in his own
country, and came in person with his army into Boeotia, down fell the
courage of the Athenians, and Demosthenes was hushed; the Thebans,
deserted by them, fought by themselves, and lost their city. After
which, the people of Athens, all in distress and great perplexity,
resolved to send ambassadors to Alexander, and amongst others, made
choice of Demosthenes for one; but his heart failing him for fear of
the king's anger, he returned back from Cithaeron, and left the
embassy. In the meantime, Alexander sent to Athens, requiring ten of
their orators to be delivered up to him, as Idomeneus and Duris have
reported, but as the most and best historians say, he demanded these
eight only: Demosthenes, Polyeuctus, Ephialtes, Lycurgus, Moerocles,
Demon, Callisthenes, and Charidemus. It was upon this occasion that
Demosthenes related to them the fable in which the sheep are said to
deliver up their dogs to the wolves; himself and those who with him
contended for the people's safety, being, in his comparison, the dogs
that defended the flock, and Alexander "the Macedonian arch wolf." He
further told them, "As we see corn-masters sell their whole stock by a
few grains of wheat which they carry about with them in a dish, as a
sample of the rest, so you, by delivering up us, who are but a few, do
at the same time unawares surrender up yourselves all together with
us;" so we find it related in the history of Aristobulus, the
Cassandrian. The Athenians were deliberating, and at a loss what to do,
when Demades, having agreed with the persons whom Alexander had
demanded, for five talents, undertook to go ambassador, and to
intercede with the king for them; and, whether it was that he relied on
his friendship and kindness, or that he hoped to find him satiated, as
a lion glutted with slaughter, he certainly went, and prevailed with
him both to pardon the men, and to be reconciled to the city.
So he and his friends, when Alexander went away, were great men, and
Demosthenes was quite put aside. Yet when Agis, the Spartan, made his
insurrection, he also for a short time attempted a movement in his
favor; but he soon shrunk back again, as the Athenians would not take
any part in it, and, Agis being slain, the Lacedaemonians were
vanquished. During this time it was that the indictment against
Ctesiphon, concerning the Crown, was brought to trial. The action was
commenced a little before the battle in Chaeronea, when Chaerondas was
archon, but it was not proceeded with till about ten years after,
Aristophon being then archon. Never was any public cause more
celebrated than this, alike for the fame of the orators, and for the
generous courage of the judges, who, though at that time the accusers
of Demosthenes were in the height of power, and supported by all the
favor of the Macedonians, yet would not give judgment against him, but
acquitted him so honorably, that Aeschines did not obtain the fifth
part of their suffrages on his side, so that, immediately after, he
left the city, and spent the rest of his life in teaching rhetoric
about the island of Rhodes, and upon the continent in Ionia.
It was not long after that Harpalus fled from Alexander, and came to
Athens out of Asia; knowing himself guilty of many misdeeds into which
his love of luxury had led him, and fearing the king, who was now grown
terrible even to his best friends. Yet this man had no sooner addressed
himself to the people, and delivered up his goods, his ships, and
himself to their disposal, but the other orators of the town had their
eyes quickly fixed upon his money, and came in to his assistance,
persuading the Athenians to receive and protect their suppliant.
Demosthenes at first gave advice to chase him out of the country, and
to beware lest they involved their city in a war upon an unnecessary
and unjust occasion. But some few days after, as they were taking an
account of the treasure, Harpalus, perceiving how much he was pleased
with a cup of Persian manufacture, and how curiously he surveyed the
sculpture and fashion of it, desired him to poise it in his hand, and
consider the weight of the gold. Demosthenes, being amazed to feel how
heavy it was, asked him what weight it came to. "To you," said
Harpalus, smiling, "it shall come with twenty talents." And presently
after, when night drew on, he sent him the cup with so many talents.
Harpalus, it seems, was a person of singular skill to discern a man's
covetousness by the air of his countenance, and the look and movements
of his eyes. For Demosthenes could not resist the temptation, but
admitting the present, like an armed garrison, into the citadel of his
house, he surrendered himself up to the interest of Harpalus. The next
day, he came into the assembly with his neck swathed about with wool
and rollers, and when they called on him to rise up and speak, he made
signs as if he had lost his voice. But the wits, turning the matter to
ridicule, said that certainly the orator had been seized that night
with no other than a silver quinsy. And soon after, the people,
becoming aware of the bribery, grew angry, and would not suffer him to
speak, or make any apology for himself, but ran him down with noise;
and one man stood up, and cried out, "What, ye men of Athens, will you
not hear the cup-bearer?" So at length they banished Harpalus out of
the city; and fearing lest they should be called to account for the
treasure which the orators had purloined, they made a strict inquiry,
going from house to house; only Callicles, the son of Arrhenidas, who
was newly married, they would not suffer to be searched, out of
respect, as Theopompus writes, to the bride, who was within.
Demosthenes resisted the inquisition, and proposed a decree to refer
the business to the court of Areopagus, and to punish those whom that
court should find guilty. But being himself one of the first whom the
court condemned, when he came to the bar, he was fined fifty talents,
and committed to prison; where, out of shame of the crime for which he
was condemned, and through the weakness of his body, growing incapable
of supporting the confinement, he made his escape, by the carelessness
of some and by the connivance of others of the citizens. We are told,
at least, that he had not fled far from the city, when, finding that he
was pursued by some of those who had been his adversaries, he
endeavored to hide himself. But when they called him by his name, and
coming up nearer to him, desired he would accept from them some money
which they had brought from home as a provision for his journey, and to
that purpose only had followed him, when they entreated him to take
courage, and to bear up against his misfortune, he burst out into much
greater lamentation, saying, "But how is it possible to support myself
under so heavy an affliction, since I leave a city in which I have such
enemies, as in any other it is not easy to find friends." He did not
show much fortitude in his banishment, spending his time for the most
part in Aegina and Troezen, and, with tears in his eyes, looking
towards the country of Attica. And there remain upon record some
sayings of his, little resembling those sentiments of generosity and
bravery which he used to express when he had the management of the
commonwealth. For, as he was departing out of the city, it is reported,
he lifted up his hands towards the Acropolis, and said, "O Lady
Minerva, how is it that thou takest delight in three such fierce
untractable beast, the owl, the snake, and the people?" The young men
that came to visit and converse with him, he deterred from meddling
with state affairs, telling them, that if at first two ways had been
proposed to him, the one leading to the speaker's stand and the
assembly, the other going direct to destruction, and he could have
foreseen the many evils which attend those who deal in public business,
such as fears, envies, calumnies, and contentions, he would certainly
have taken that which led straight on to his death.
But now happened the death of Alexander, while Demosthenes was in this
banishment which we have been speaking of. And the Grecians were once
again up in arms, encouraged by the brave attempts of Leosthenes, who
was then drawing a circumvallation about Antipater, whom he held close
besieged in Lamia. Pytheas, therefore, the orator, and Callimedon,
called the Crab, fled from Athens, and taking sides with Antipater,
went about with his friends and ambassadors to keep the Grecians from
revolting and taking part with the Athenians. But, on the other side,
Demosthenes, associating himself with the ambassadors that came from
Athens, used his utmost endeavors and gave them his best assistance in
persuading the cities to fall unanimously upon the Macedonians, and to
drive them out of Greece. Phylarchus says that in Arcadia there
happened a rencounter between Pytheas and Demosthenes, which came at
last to downright railing, while the one pleaded for the Macedonians,
and the other for the Grecians. Pytheas said, that as we always suppose
there is some disease in the family to which they bring asses' milk, so
wherever there comes an embassy from Athens, that city must needs be
indisposed. And Demosthenes answered him, retorting the comparison:
"Asses' milk is brought to restore health, and the Athenians come for
the safety and recovery of the sick." With this conduct the people of
Athens were so well pleased, that they decreed the recall of
Demosthenes from banishment. The decree was brought in by Demon the
Paeanian, cousin to Demosthenes. So they sent him a ship to Aegina, and
he landed at the port of Piraeus, where he was met and joyfully
received by all the citizens, not so much as an Archon or a priest
staying behind. And Demetrius, the Magnesian, says, that he lifted up
his hands towards heaven, and blessed this day of his happy return, as
far more honorable than that of Alcibiades; since he was recalled by
his countrymen, not through any force or constraint put upon them, but
by their own good-will and free inclinations. There remained only his
pecuniary fine, which, according to law, could not be remitted by the
people. But they found out a way to elude the law. It was a custom with
them to allow a certain quantity of silver to those who were to furnish
and adorn the altar for the sacrifice of Jupiter Soter. This office,
for that turn, they bestowed on Demosthenes, and for the performance of
it ordered him fifty talents, the very sum in which he was condemned.
Yet it was no long time that he enjoyed his country after his return,
the attempts of the Greeks being soon all utterly defeated. For the
battle at Cranon happened in Metagitnion, in Boedromion the garrison
entered into Munychia, and in the Pyanepsion following died Demosthenes
after this manner.
Upon the report that Antipater and Craterus were coming to Athens,
Demosthenes with his party took their opportunity to escape privily out
of the city; but sentence of death was, upon the motion of Demades,
passed upon them by the people. They dispersed themselves, flying some
to one place, some to another; and Antipater sent about his soldiers
into all quarters to apprehend them. Archias was their captain, and was
thence called the exile-hunter. He was a Thurian born, and is reported
to have been an actor of tragedies, and they say that Polus, of Aegina,
the best actor of his time, was his scholar; but Hermippus reckons
Archias among the disciples of Lacritus, the orator, and Demetrius
says, he spent some time with Anaximenes. This Archias finding
Hyperides the orator, Aristonicus of Marathon, and Himeraeus, the
brother of Demetrius the Phalerian, in Aegina, took them by force out
of the temple of Aeacus, whither they were fled for safety, and sent
them to Antipater, then at Cleonae, where they were all put to death;
and Hyperides, they say, had his tongue cut out.
Demosthenes, he heard, had taken sanctuary at the temple of Neptune in
Calauria, and, crossing over thither in some light vessels, as soon as
he had landed himself, and the Thracian spear-men that came with him,
he endeavored to persuade Demosthenes to accompany him to Antipater, as
if he should meet with no hard usage from him. But Demosthenes, in his
sleep the night before, had a strange dream. It seemed to him that he
was acting a tragedy, and contended with Archias for the victory; and
though he acquitted himself well, and gave good satisfaction to the
spectators, yet for want of better furniture and provision for the
stage, he lost the day. And so, while Archias was discoursing to him
with many expressions of kindness, he sat still in the same posture,
and looking up steadfastly upon him, "O Archias," said he, "I am as
little affected by your promises now as I used formerly to be by your
acting." Archias at this beginning to grow angry and to threaten him,
"Now," said Demosthenes, "you speak like the genuine Macedonian oracle;
before you were but acting a part. Therefore forbear only a little,
while I write a word or two home to my family." Having thus spoken, he
withdrew into the temple, and taking a scroll, as if he meant to write,
he put the reed into his mouth, and biting it, as he was wont to do
when he was thoughtful or writing, he held it there for some time. Then
he bowed down his head and covered it. The soldiers that stood at the
door, supposing all this to proceed from want of courage and fear of
death, in derision called him effeminate, and faint-hearted, and
coward. And Archias, drawing near, desired him to rise up, and
repeating the same kind things he had spoken before, he once more
promised him to make his peace with Antipater. But Demosthenes,
perceiving that now the poison had pierced and seized his vitals,
uncovered his head, and fixing his eyes upon Archias, "Now," said he,
"as soon as you please you may commence the part of Creon in the
tragedy, and cast out this body of mine unburied. But, O gracious
Neptune, I, for my part, while I am yet alive, arise up and depart out
of this sacred place; though Antipater and the Macedonians have not
left so much as thy temple unpolluted." After he had thus spoken and
desired to be held up, because already he began to tremble and stagger,
as he was going forward, and passing by the altar, he fell down, and
with a groan gave up the ghost.
Ariston says that he took the poison out of a reed, as we have shown
before. But Pappus, a certain historian whose history was recovered by
Hermippus, says, that as he fell near the altar, there was found in his
scroll this beginning only of a letter, and nothing more, "Demosthenes
to Antipater." And that when his sudden death was much wondered at, the
Thracians who guarded the doors reported that he took the poison into
his hand out of a rag, and put it in his mouth, and that they imagined
it had been gold which he swallowed; but the maid that served him,
being examined by the followers of Archias, affirmed that he had worn
it in a bracelet for a long time, as an amulet. And Eratosthenes also
says that he kept the poison in a hollow ring, and that that ring was
the bracelet which he wore about his arm. There are various other
statements made by the many authors who have related the story, but
there is no need to enter into their discrepancies; yet I must not omit
what is said by Demochares, the relation of Demosthenes, who is of
opinion, it was not by the help of poison that he met with so sudden
and so easy a death, but that by the singular favor and providence of
the gods he was thus rescued from the cruelty of the Macedonians. He
died on the sixteenth of Pyanepsion, the most sad and solemn day of the
Thesmophoria, which the women observe by fasting in the temple of the
goddess.
Soon after his death, the people of Athens bestowed on him such honors
as he had deserved. They erected his statue of brass; they decreed that
the eldest of his family should be maintained in the Prytaneum; and on
the base of his statue was engraven the famous inscription, --
Had you for Greece been strong, as wise you were,
The Macedonian had not conquered her.
For it is simply ridiculous to say, as some have related, that
Demosthenes made these verses himself in Calauria, as he was about to
take the poison.
A little before we went to Athens, the following incident was said to
have happened. A soldier, being summoned to appear before his superior
officer, and answer to an accusation brought against him, put that
little gold which he had into the hands of Demosthenes's statue. The
fingers of this statue were folded one within another, and near it grew
a small plane-tree, from which many leaves, either accidentally blown
thither by the wind, or placed so on purpose by the man himself falling
together, and lying round about the gold, concealed it for a long time.
In the end, the soldier returned, and found his treasure entire, and
the fame of this incident was spread abroad. And many ingenious persons
of the city competed with each other, on this occasion, to vindicate
the integrity of Demosthenes, in several epigrams which they made on
the subject.
As for Demades, he did not long enjoy the new honors he now came in
for, divine vengeance for the death of Demosthenes pursuing him into
Macedonia, where he was justly put to death by those whom he had basely
flattered. They were weary of him before, but at this time the guilt he
lay under was manifest and undeniable. For some of his letters were
intercepted, in which he had encouraged Perdiccas to fall upon
Macedonia, and to save the Grecians, who, he said, hung only by an old
rotten thread, meaning Antipater. Of this he was accused by Dinarchus,
the Corinthian, and Cassander was so enraged, that he first slew his
son in his bosom, and then gave orders to execute him; who might-now at
last, by his own extreme misfortunes, learn the lesson, that traitors,
who make sale of their country, sell themselves first; a truth which
Demosthenes had often foretold him, and he would never believe. Thus,
Sosius, you have the life of Demosthenes, from such accounts as we have
either read or heard concerning him.
CICERO
It is generally said, that Helvia, the mother of Cicero, was both well
born and lived a fair life; but of his father nothing is reported but
in extremes. For whilst some would have him the son of a fuller, and
educated in that trade, others carry back the origin of his family to
Tullus Attius, an illustrious king of the Volscians, who waged war not
without honor against the Romans. However, he who first of that house
was surnamed Cicero seems to have been a person worthy to be
remembered; since those who succeeded him not only did not reject, but
were fond of that name, though vulgarly made a matter of reproach. For
the Latins call a vetch Cicer, and a nick or dent at the tip of his
nose, which resembled the opening in a vetch, gave him the surname of
Cicero.
Cicero, whose story I am writing, is said to have replied with spirit
to some of his friends, who recommended him to lay aside or change the
name when he first stood for office and engaged in politics, that he
would make it his endeavor to render the name of Cicero more glorious
than that of the Scauri and Catuli. And when he was quaestor in Sicily,
and was making an offering of silver plate to the gods, and had
inscribed his two names, Marcus and Tullius, instead of the third he
jestingly told the artificer to engrave the figure of a vetch by them.
Thus much is told us about his name.
Of his birth it is reported, that his mother was delivered without pain
or labor, on the third of the new Calends, the same day on which now
the magistrates of Rome pray and sacrifice for the emperor. It is said,
also, that a vision appeared to his nurse, and foretold the child she
then suckled should afterwards become a great benefit to the Roman
States. To such presages, which might in general be thought mere
fancies and idle talk, he himself erelong gave the credit of true
prophecies. For as soon as he was of an age to begin to have lessons,
he became so distinguished for his talent, and got such a name and
reputation amongst the boys, that their fathers would often visit the
school, that they might see young Cicero, and might be able to say that
they themselves had witnessed the quickness and readiness in learning
for which he was renowned. And the more rude among them used to be
angry with their children, to see them, as they walked together,
receiving Cicero with respect into the middle place. And being, as
Plato would have, the scholar-like and philosophical temper, eager for
every kind of learning, and indisposed to no description of knowledge
or instruction, he showed, however, a more peculiar propensity to
poetry; and there is a poem now extant, made by him when a boy, in
tetrameter verse, called Pontius Glaucus. And afterwards, when he
applied himself more curiously to these accomplishments, he had the
name of being not only the best orator, but also the best poet of Rome.
And the glory of his rhetoric still remains, notwithstanding the many
new modes in speaking since his time; but his verses are forgotten and
out of all repute, so many ingenious poets having followed him.
Leaving his juvenile studies, he became an auditor of Philo the
Academic, whom the Romans, above all the other scholars of Clitomachus,
admired for his eloquence and loved for his character. He also sought
the company of the Mucii, who were eminent statesmen and leaders in the
senate, and acquired from them a knowledge of the laws. For some short
time he served in arms under Sylla, in the Marsian war. But perceiving
the commonwealth running into factions, and from faction all things
tending to an absolute monarchy, he betook himself to a retired and
contemplative life, and conversing with the learned Greeks, devoted
himself to study, till Sylla had obtained the government, and the
commonwealth was in some kind of settlement.
At this time, Chrysogonus, Sylla's emancipated slave, having laid an
information about an estate belonging to one who was said to have been
put to death by proscription, had bought it himself for two thousand
drachmas. And when Roscius, the son and heir of the dead, complained,
and demonstrated the estate to be worth two hundred and fifty talents,
Sylla took it angrily to have his actions questioned, and preferred a
process against Roscius for the murder of his father, Chrysogonus
managing the evidence. None of the advocates durst assist him, but
fearing the cruelty of Sylla, avoided the cause. The young man, being
thus deserted, came for refuge to Cicero. Cicero's friends encouraged
him, saying he was not likely ever to have a fairer and more honorable
introduction to public life; he therefore undertook the defense,
carried the cause, and got much renown for it.
But fearing Sylla, he traveled into Greece, and gave it out that he did
so for the benefit of his health. And indeed he was lean and meager,
and had such a weakness in his stomach, that he could take nothing but
a spare and thin diet, and that not till late in the evening. His voice
was loud and good, but so harsh and unmanaged that in vehemence and
heat of speaking he always raised it to so high a tone, that there
seemed to be reason to fear about his health.
When he came to Athens, he was a hearer of Antiochus of Ascalon, with
whose fluency and elegance of diction he was much taken, although he
did not approve of his innovations in doctrine. For Antiochus had now
fallen off from the New Academy, as they call it, and forsaken the sect
of Carneades, whether that he was moved by the argument of manifestness
and the senses, or, as some say, had been led by feelings of rivalry
and opposition to the followers of Clitomachus and Philo to change his
opinions, and in most things to embrace the doctrine of the Stoics. But
Cicero rather affected and adhered to the doctrines of the New Academy;
and purposed with himself, if he should be disappointed of any
employment in the commonwealth, to retire hither from pleading and
political affairs, and to pass his life with quiet in the study of
philosophy.
But after he had received the news of Sylla's death, and his body,
strengthened again by exercise, was come to a vigorous habit, his voice
managed and rendered sweet and full to the ear and pretty well brought
into keeping with his general constitution, his friends at Rome
earnestly soliciting him by letters, and Antiochus also urging him to
return to public affairs, he again prepared for use his orator's
instrument of rhetoric, and summoned into action his political
faculties, diligently exercising himself in declamations, and attending
the most celebrated rhetoricians of the time. He sailed from Athens for
Asia and Rhodes. Amongst the Asian masters, he conversed with Xenocles
of Adramyttium, Dionysius of Magnesia, and Menippus of Caria; at
Rhodes, he studied oratory with Apollonius, the son of Molon, and
philosophy with Posidonius. Apollonius, we are told, not understanding
Latin, requested Cicero to declaim in Greek. He complied willingly,
thinking that his faults would thus be better pointed out to him. And
after he finished, all his other hearers were astonished, and contended
who should praise him most, but Apollonius, who had shown no signs of
excitement whilst he was hearing him, so also now, when it was over,
sat musing for some considerable time, without any remark. And when
Cicero was discomposed at this, he said, "You have my praise and
admiration, Cicero, and Greece my pity and commiseration, since those
arts and that eloquence which are the only glories that remain to her,
will now be transferred by you to Rome."
And now when Cicero, full of expectation, was again bent upon political
affairs, a certain oracle blunted the edge of his inclination; for
consulting the god of Delphi how he should attain most glory, the
Pythoness answered, by making his own genius and not the opinion of the
people the guide of his life; and therefore at first he passed his time
in Rome cautiously, and was very backward in pretending to public
offices, so that he was at that time in little esteem, and had got the
names, so readily given by low and ignorant people in Rome, of Greek
and Scholar. But when his own desire of fame and the eagerness of his
father and relations had made him take in earnest to pleading, he made
no slow or gentle advance to the first place, but shone out in full
luster at once, and far surpassed all the advocates of the bar. At
first, it is said, he, as well as Demosthenes, was defective in his
delivery, and on that account paid much attention to the instructions,
sometimes of Roscius the comedian, and sometimes of Aesop the
tragedian. They tell of this Aesop, that whilst he was representing on
the theater Atreus deliberating the revenge of Thyestes, he was so
transported beyond himself in the heat of action, that he struck with
his scepter one of the servants, who was running across the stage, so
violently, that he laid him dead upon the place. And such afterwards
was Cicero's delivery, that it did not a little contribute to render
his eloquence persuasive. He used to ridicule loud speakers, saying
that they shouted because they could not speak, like lame men who get
on horseback because they cannot walk. And his readiness and address in
sarcasm, and generally in witty sayings, was thought to suit a pleader
very well, and to be highly attractive, but his using it to excess
offended many, and gave him the repute of ill nature.
He was appointed quaestor in a great scarcity of corn, and had Sicily
for his province, where, though at first he displeased many, by
compelling them to send in their provisions to Rome, yet after they had
had experience of his care, justice, and clemency, they honored him
more than ever they did any of their governors before. It happened,
also, that some young Romans of good and noble families, charged with
neglect of discipline and misconduct in military service, were brought
before the praetor in Sicily. Cicero undertook their defense, which he
conducted admirably, and got them acquitted. So returning to Rome with
a great opinion of himself for these things, a ludicrous incident
befell him, as he tells us himself. Meeting an eminent citizen in
Campania, whom he accounted his friend, he asked him what the Romans
said and thought of his actions, as if the whole city had been filled
with the glory of what he had done. His friend asked him in reply,
"Where is it you have been, Cicero?" This for the time utterly
mortified and cast him down, to perceive that the report of his actions
had sunk into the city of Rome as into an immense ocean, without any
visible effect or result in reputation. And afterwards considering with
himself that the glory he contended for was an infinite thing, and that
there was no fixed end nor measure in its pursuit, he abated much of
his ambitious thoughts. Nevertheless, he was always excessively pleased
with his own praise, and continued to the very last to be passionately
fond of glory; which often interfered with the prosecution of his
wisest resolutions.
On beginning to apply himself more resolutely to public business, he
remarked it as an unreasonable and absurd thing that artificers, using
vessels and instruments inanimate, should know the name, place, and use
of every one of them, and yet the statesman, whose instruments for
carrying out public measures are men, should be negligent and careless
in the knowledge of persons. And so he not only acquainted himself with
the names, but also knew the particular place where every one of the
more eminent citizens dwelt, what lands he possessed, the friends he
made use of, and those that were of his neighborhood, and when he
traveled on any road in Italy, he could readily name and show the
estates and seats of his friends and acquaintance. Having so small an
estate, though a sufficient competency for his own expenses, it was
much wondered at that he took neither fees nor gifts from his clients,
and more especially, that he did not do so when he undertook the
prosecution of Verres. This Verres, who had been praetor of Sicily, and
stood charged by the Sicilians of many evil practices during his
government there, Cicero succeeded in getting condemned, not by
speaking, but in a manner by holding his tongue. For the praetors,
favoring Verres, had deferred the trial by several adjournments to the
last day, in which it was evident there could not be sufficient time
for the advocates to be heard, and the cause brought to an issue.
Cicero, therefore, came forward, and said there was no need of
speeches; and after producing and examining witnesses, he required the
judges to proceed to sentence. However, many witty sayings are on
record, as having been used by Cicero on the occasion. When a man named
Caecilius, one of the freed slaves, who was said to be given to Jewish
practices, would have put by the Sicilians, and undertaken the
prosecution of Verres himself, Cicero asked, "What has a Jew to do with
swine?" verres being the Roman word for a boar. And when Verres began
to reproach Cicero with effeminate living, "You ought," replied he, "to
use this language at home, to your sons;" Verres having a son who had
fallen into disgraceful courses. Hortensius the orator, not daring
directly to undertake the defense of Verres, was yet persuaded to
appear for him at the laying on of the fine, and received an ivory
sphinx for his reward; and when Cicero, in some passage of his speech,
obliquely reflected on him, and Hortensius told him he was not skillful
in solving riddles, "No," said Cicero, "and yet you have the Sphinx in
your house!"
Verres was thus convicted; though Cicero, who set the fine at
seventy-five myriads, lay under the suspicion of being corrupted by
bribery to lessen the sum. But the Sicilians, in testimony of their
gratitude, came and brought him all sorts of presents from the island,
when he was aedile; of which he made no private profit himself, but
used their generosity only to reduce the public price of provisions.
He had a very pleasant seat at Arpi, he had also a farm near Naples,
and another about Pompeii, but neither of any great value. The portion
of his wife, Terentia, amounted to ten myriads, and he had a bequest
valued at nine myriads of denarii; upon these he lived in a liberal but
temperate style, with the learned Greeks and Romans that were his
familiars. He rarely, if at any time, sat down to meat till sunset, and
that not so much on account of business, as for his health and the
weakness of his stomach. He was otherwise in the care of his body nice
and delicate, appointing himself, for example, a set number of walks
and rubbings. And after this manner managing the habit of his body, he
brought it in time to be healthful, and capable of supporting many
great fatigues and trials. His father's house he made over to his
brother, living himself near the Palatine hill, that he might not give
the trouble of long journeys to those that made suit to him. And,
indeed, there were not fewer daily appearing at his door, to do their
court to him, than there were that came to Crassus for his riches, or
to Pompey for his power amongst the soldiers, these being at that time
the two men of the greatest repute and influence in Rome. Nay, even
Pompey himself used to pay court to Cicero, and Cicero's public actions
did much to establish Pompey's authority and reputation in the state.
Numerous distinguished competitors stood with him for the praetor's
office; but he was chosen before them all, and managed the decision of
causes with justice and integrity. It is related that Licinius Macer, a
man himself of great power in the city, and supported also by the
assistance of Crassus, was accused before him of extortion, and that,
in confidence on his own interest and the diligence of his friends,
whilst the judges were debating about the sentence, he went to his
house, where hastily trimming his hair and putting on a clean gown, as
already acquitted, he was setting off again to go to the Forum; but at
his hall door meeting Crassus, who told him that he was condemned by
all the votes, he went in again, threw himself upon his bed, and died
immediately. This verdict was considered very creditable to Cicero, as
showing his careful management of the courts of justice. On another
occasion, Vatinius, a man of rude manners and often insolent in court
to the magistrates, who had large swellings on his neck, came before
his tribunal and made some request, and on Cicero's desiring further
time to consider it, told him that he himself would have made no
question about it, had he been praetor. Cicero, turning quickly upon
him, answered, "But I, you see, have not the neck that you have."
When there were but two or three days remaining in his office, Manilius
was brought before him, and charged with peculation. Manilius had the
good opinion and favor of the common people, and was thought to be
prosecuted only for Pompey's sake, whose particular friend he was. And
therefore, when he asked a space of time before his trial, and Cicero
allowed him but one day, and that the next only, the common people grew
highly offended, because it had been the custom of the praetors to
allow ten days at least to the accused: and the tribunes of the people
having called him before the people, and accused him, he, desiring to
be heard, said, that as he had always treated the accused with equity
and humanity, as far as the law allowed, so he thought it hard to deny
the same to Manilius, and that he had studiously appointed that day of
which alone, as praetor, he was master, and that it was not the part of
those that were desirous to help him, to cast the judgment of his cause
upon another praetor. These things being said made a wonderful change
in the people, and, commending him much for it, they desired that he
himself would undertake the defense of Manilius; which he willingly
consented to, and that principally for the sake of Pompey, who was
absent. And, accordingly, taking his place before the people again, he
delivered a bold invective upon the oligarchical party and on those who
were jealous of Pompey.
Yet he was preferred to the consulship no less by the nobles than the
common people, for the good of the city; and both parties jointly
assisted his promotion, upon the following reasons. The change of
government made by Sylla, which at first seemed a senseless one, by
time and usage had now come to be considered by the people no
unsatisfactory settlement. But there were some that endeavored to alter
and subvert the whole present state of affairs not from any good
motives, but for their own private gain; and Pompey being at this time
employed in the wars with the kings of Pontus and Armenia, there was no
sufficient force at Rome to suppress any attempts at a revolution.
These people had for their head a man of bold, daring, and restless
character, Lucius Catiline, who was accused, besides other great
offenses, of deflowering his virgin daughter, and killing his own
brother; for which latter crime, fearing to be prosecuted at law, he
persuaded Sylla to set him down, as though he were yet alive, amongst
those that were to be put to death by proscription. This man the
profligate citizens choosing for their captain, gave faith to one
another, amongst other pledges, by sacrificing a man and eating of his
flesh; and a great part of the young men of the city were corrupted by
him, he providing for everyone pleasures, drink, and women, and
profusely supplying the expense of these debauches. Etruria, moreover,
had all been excited to revolt, as well as a great part of Gaul within
the Alps. But Rome itself was in the most dangerous inclination to
change, on account of the unequal distribution of wealth and property,
those of highest rank and greatest spirit having impoverished
themselves by shows, entertainments, ambition of offices, and sumptuous
buildings, and the riches of the city having thus fallen into the hands
of mean and low-born persons. So that there wanted but a slight impetus
to set all in motion, it being in the power of every daring man to
overturn a sickly commonwealth.
Catiline, however, being desirous of procuring a strong position to
carry out his designs, stood for the consulship, and had great hopes of
success, thinking he should be appointed, with Caius Antonius as his
colleague, who was a man fit to lead neither in a good cause nor in a
bad one, but might be a valuable accession to another's power. These
things the greatest part of the good and honest citizens apprehending,
put Cicero upon standing for the consulship; whom the people readily
receiving, Catiline was put by, so that he and Caius Antonius were
chosen, although amongst the competitors he was the only man descended
from a father of the equestrian, and not of the senatorial order.
Though the designs of Catiline were not yet publicly known, yet
considerable preliminary troubles immediately followed upon Cicero's
entrance upon the consulship. For, on the one side, those who were
disqualified by the laws of Sylla from holding any public offices,
being neither inconsiderable in power nor in number, came forward as
candidates and caressed the people for them; speaking many things truly
and justly against the tyranny of Sylla, only that they disturbed the
government at an improper and unseasonable time; on the other hand, the
tribunes of the people proposed laws to the same purpose, constituting
a commission of ten persons, with unlimited powers, in whom as supreme
governors should be vested the right of selling the public lands of all
Italy and Syria and Pompey's new conquests, of judging and banishing
whom they pleased, of planting colonies, of taking moneys out of the
treasury, and of levying and paying what soldiers should be thought
needful. And several of the nobility favored this law, but especially
Caius Antonius, Cicero's colleague, in hopes of being one of the ten.
But what gave the greatest fear to the nobles was, that he was thought
privy to the conspiracy of Catiline, and not to dislike it, because of
his great debts.
Cicero, endeavoring in the first place to provide a remedy against this
danger, procured a decree assigning to him the province of Macedonia,
he himself declining that of Gaul, which was offered to him. And this
piece of favor so completely won over Antonius, that he was ready to
second and respond to, like a hired player, whatever Cicero said for
the good of the country. And now, having made his colleague thus tame
and tractable, he could with greater courage attack the conspirators.
And, therefore, in the senate, making an oration against the law of the
ten commissioners, he so confounded those who proposed it, that they
had nothing to reply. And when they again endeavored, and, having
prepared things beforehand, had called the consuls before the assembly
of the people, Cicero, fearing nothing, went first out, and commanded
the senate to follow him, and not only succeeded in throwing out the
law, but so entirely overpowered the tribunes by his oratory, that they
abandoned all thought of their other projects.
For Cicero, it may be said, was the one man, above all others, who made
the Romans feel how great a charm eloquence lends to what is good, and
how invincible justice is, if it be well spoken; and that it is
necessary for him who would dexterously govern a commonwealth, in
action, always to prefer that which is honest before that which is
popular, and in speaking, to free the right and useful measure from
everything that may occasion offense. An incident occurred in the
theater, during his consulship, which showed what his speaking could
do. For whereas formerly the knights of Rome were mingled in the
theater with the common people, and took their places amongst them as
it happened, Marcus Otho, when he was praetor, was the first who
distinguished them from the other citizens, and appointed them a proper
seat, which they still enjoy as their special place in the theater.
This the common people took as an indignity done to them, and,
therefore, when Otho appeared in the theater, they hissed him; the
knights, on the contrary, received him with loud clapping. The people
repeated and increased their hissing; the knights continued their
clapping. Upon this, turning upon one another, they broke out into
insulting words, so that the theater was in great disorder. Cicero,
being informed of it, came himself to the theater, and summoning the
people into the temple of Bellona, he so effectually chid and chastised
them for it, that, again returning into the theater, they received Otho
with loud applause, contending with the knights who should give him the
greatest demonstrations of honor and respect.
The conspirators with Catiline, at first cowed and disheartened, began
presently to take courage again. And assembling themselves together,
they exhorted one another boldly to undertake the design before
Pompey's return, who, as it was said, was now on his march with his
forces for Rome. But the old soldiers of Sylla were Catiline's chief
stimulus to action. They had been disbanded all about Italy, but the
greatest number and the fiercest of them lay scattered among the cities
of Etruria, entertaining themselves with dreams of new plunder and
rapine amongst the hoarded riches of Italy. These, having for their
leader Manlius, who had served with distinction in the wars under
Sylla, joined themselves to Catiline, and came to Rome to assist him
with their suffrages at the election. For he again pretended to the
consulship, having resolved to kill Cicero in a tumult at the
elections. Also, the divine powers seemed to give intimation of the
coming troubles, by earthquakes, thunderbolts, and strange appearances.
Nor was human evidence wanting, certain enough in itself, though not
sufficient for the conviction of the noble and powerful Catiline.
Therefore Cicero, deferring the day of election, summoned Catiline into
the senate, and questioned him as to the charges made against him.
Catiline, believing there were many in the senate desirous of change,
and to give a specimen of himself to the conspirators present, returned
an audacious answer, "What harm," said he, "when I see two bodies, the
one lean and consumptive with a head, the other great and strong
without one, if I put a head to that body which wants one?" This covert
representation of the senate and the people excited yet greater
apprehensions in Cicero. He put on armor, and was attended from his
house by the noble citizens in a body; and a number of the young men
went with him into the Plain. Here, designedly letting his tunic slip
partly off from his shoulders, he showed his armor underneath, and
discovered his danger to the spectators; who, being much moved at it,
gathered round about him for his defense. At length, Catiline was by a
general suffrage again put by, and Silanus and Murena chosen consuls.
Not long after this, Catiline's soldiers got together in a body in
Etruria, and began to form themselves into companies, the day appointed
for the design being near at hand. About midnight, some of the
principal and most powerful citizens of Rome, Marcus Crassus, Marcus
Marcellus, and Scipio Metellus went to Cicero's house, where, knocking
at the gate, and calling up the porter, they commended him to awake
Cicero, and tell him they were there. The business was this: Crassus's
porter after supper had delivered to him letters brought by an unknown
person. Some of them were directed to others, but one to Crassus,
without a name; this only Crassus read, which informed him that there
was a great slaughter intended by Catiline, and advised him to leave
the city. The others he did not open, but went with them immediately to
Cicero, being affrighted at the danger, and to free himself of the
suspicion he lay under for his familiarity with Catiline. Cicero,
considering the matter, summoned the senate at break of day. The
letters he brought with him, and delivered them to those to whom they
were directed, commanding them to read them publicly; they all alike
contained an account of the conspiracy. And when Quintus Arrius, a man
of praetorian dignity, recounted to them, how soldiers were collecting
in companies in Etruria, and Manlius stated to be in motion with a
large force, hovering about those cities, in expectation of
intelligence from Rome, the senate made a decree, to place all in the
hands of the consuls, who should undertake the conduct of everything,
and do their best to save the state. This was not a common thing, but
only done by the senate in case of imminent danger.
After Cicero had received this power, he committed all affairs outside
to Quintus Metellus, but the management of the city he kept in his own
hands. Such a numerous attendance guarded him every day when he went
abroad, that the greatest part of the market-place was filled with his
train when he entered it. Catiline, impatient of further delay,
resolved himself to break forth and go to Manlius, but he commanded
Marcius and Cethegus to take their swords, and go early in the morning
to Cicero's gates, as if only intending to salute him, and then to fall
upon him and slay him. This a noble lady, Fulvia, coming by night,
discovered to Cicero, bidding him beware of Cethegus and Marcius. They
came by break of day, and being denied entrance, made an outcry and
disturbance at the gates, which excited all the more suspicion. But
Cicero, going forth, summoned the senate into the temple of Jupiter
Stator, which stands at the end of the Sacred Street, going up to the
Palatine. And when Catiline with others of his party also came, as
intending to make his defense, none of the senators would sit by him,
but all of them left the bench where he had placed himself. And when he
began to speak, they interrupted him with outcries. At length Cicero,
standing up, commanded him to leave the city, for since one governed
the commonwealth with words, the other with arms, it was necessary
there should be a wall betwixt them. Catiline, therefore, immediately
left the town, with three hundred armed men; and assuming, as if he had
been a magistrate, the rods, axes, and military ensigns, he went to
Manlius, and having got together a body of near twenty thousand men,
with these he marched to the several cities, endeavoring to persuade or
force them to revolt. So it being now come to open war, Antonius was
sent forth to fight him.
The remainder of those in the city whom he had corrupted, Cornelius
Lentulus kept together and encouraged. He had the surname Sura, and was
a man of a noble family, but a dissolute liver, who for his debauchery
was formerly turned out of the senate, and was now holding the office
of praetor for the second time, as the custom is with those who desire
to regain the dignity of senator. It is said that he got the surname
Sura upon this occasion; being quaestor in the time of Sylla, he had
lavished away and consumed a great quantity of the public moneys, at
which Sylla being provoked, called him to give an account in the
senate; he appeared with great coolness and contempt, and said he had
no account to give, but they might take this, holding up the calf of
his leg, as boys do at ball, when they have missed. Upon which he was
surnamed Sura, sura being the Roman word for the calf of the leg. Being
at another time prosecuted at law, and having bribed some of the
judges, he escaped only by two votes, and complained of the needless
expense he had gone to in paying for a second, as one would have
sufficed to acquit him. This man, such in his own nature, and now
inflamed by Catiline, false prophets and fortune-tellers had also
corrupted with vain hopes, quoting to him fictitious verses and
oracles, and proving from the Sibylline prophecies that there were
three of the name Cornelius designed by fate to be monarchs of Rome;
two of whom, Cinna and Sylla, had already fulfilled the decree, and
that divine fortune was now advancing with the gift of monarchy for the
remaining third Cornelius; and that therefore he ought by all means to
accept it, and not lose opportunity by delay, as Catiline had done.
Lentulus, therefore, designed no mean or trivial matter, for he had
resolved to kill the whole senate, and as many other citizens as he
could, to fire the city, and spare nobody, except only Pompey's
children, intending to seize and keep them as pledges of his
reconciliation with Pompey. For there was then a common and strong
report that Pompey was on his way homeward from his great expedition.
The night appointed for the design was one of the Saturnalia; swords,
flax, and sulfur they carried and hid in the house of Cethegus; and
providing one hundred men, and dividing the city into as many parts,
they had allotted to every one singly his proper place, so that in a
moment many kindling the fire, the city might be in a flame all
together. Others were appointed to stop up the aqueducts, and to kill
those who should endeavor to carry water to put it out. Whilst these
plans were preparing, it happened there were two ambassadors from the
Allobroges staying in Rome; a nation at that time in a distressed
condition, and very uneasy under the Roman government. These Lentulus
and his party judging useful instruments to move and seduce Gaul to
revolt, admitted into the conspiracy, and they gave them letters to
their own magistrates, and letters to Catiline; in those they promised
liberty, in these they exhorted Catiline to set all slaves free, and to
bring them along with him to Rome. They sent also to accompany them to
Catiline, one Titus, a native of Croton, who was to carry those letters
to him.
These counsels of inconsidering men, who conversed together over wine
and with women, Cicero watched with sober industry and forethought, and
with most admirable sagacity, having several emissaries abroad, who
observed and traced with him all that was done, and keeping also a
secret correspondence with many who pretended to join in the
conspiracy. He thus knew all the discourse which passed betwixt them
and the strangers; and lying in wait for them by night, he took the
Crotonian with his letters, the ambassadors of the Allobroges acting
secretly in concert with him.
By break of day, he summoned the senate into the temple of Concord,
where he read the letters and examined the informers. Junius Silanus
further stated, that several persons had heard Cethegus say, that three
consuls and four praetors were to be slain; Piso, also, a person of
consular dignity, testified other matters of the like nature; and Caius
Sulpicius, one of the praetors, being sent to Cethegus's house, found
there a quantity of darts and of armor, and a still greater number of
swords and daggers, all recently whetted. At length, the senate
decreeing indemnity to the Crotonian upon his confession of the whole
matter, Lentulus was convicted, abjured his office (for he was then
praetor), and put off his robe edged with purple in the senate,
changing it for another garment more agreeable to his present
circumstances. He, thereupon, with the rest of his confederates
present, was committed to the charge of the praetors in free custody.
It being evening, and the common people in crowds expecting without,
Cicero went forth to them, and told them what was done, and then,
attended by them, went to the house of a friend and near neighbor; for
his own was taken up by the women, who were celebrating with secret
rites the feast of the goddess whom the Romans call the Good, and the
Greeks, the Women's goddess. For a sacrifice is annually performed to
her in the consul's house, either by his wife or mother, in the
presence of the vestal virgins. And having got into his friend's house
privately, a few only being present, he began to deliberate how he
should treat these men. The severest, and the only punishment fit for
such heinous crimes, he was somewhat shy and fearful of inflicting, as
well from the clemency of his nature, as also lest he should be thought
to exercise his authority too insolently, and to treat too harshly men
of the noblest birth and most powerful friendships in the city; and
yet, if he should use them more mildly, he had a dreadful prospect of
danger from them. For there was no likelihood, if they suffered less
than death, they would be reconciled, but rather, adding new rage to
their former wickedness, they would rush into every kind of audacity,
while he himself, whose character for courage already did not stand
very high with the multitude, would be thought guilty of the greatest
cowardice and want of manliness.
Whilst Cicero was doubting what course to take, a portent happened to
the women in their sacrificing. For on the altar, where the fire seemed
wholly extinguished, a great and bright flame issued forth from the
ashes of the burnt wood; at which others were affrighted, but the holy
virgins called to Terentia, Cicero's wife, and bade her haste to her
husband, and command him to execute what he had resolved for the good
of his country, for the goddess had sent a great light to the increase
of his safety and glory. Terentia, therefore, as she was otherwise in
her own nature neither tender-hearted nor timorous, but a woman eager
for distinction (who, as Cicero himself says, would rather thrust
herself into his public affairs, than communicate her domestic matters
to him), told him these things, and excited him against the
conspirators. So also did Quintus his brother, and Publius Nigidius,
one of his philosophical friends, whom he often made use of in his
greatest and most weighty affairs of state.
The next day, a debate arising in the senate about the punishment of
the men, Silanus, being the first who was asked his opinion, said, it
was fit they should be all sent to the prison, and there suffer the
utmost penalty. To him all consented in order till it came to Caius
Caesar, who was afterwards dictator. He was then but a young man, and
only at the outset of his career, but had already directed his hopes
and policy to that course by which he afterwards changed the Roman
state into a monarchy. Of this others foresaw nothing; but Cicero had
seen reason for strong suspicion, though without obtaining any
sufficient means of proof. And there were some indeed that said that he
was very near being discovered, and only just escaped him; others are
of opinion that Cicero voluntarily overlooked and neglected the
evidence against him, for fear of his friends and power; for it was
very evident to everybody, that if Caesar was to be accused with the
conspirators, they were more likely to be saved with him, than he to be
punished with them.
When, therefore, it came to Caesar's turn to give his opinion, he stood
up and proposed that the conspirators should not be put to death, but
their estates confiscated, and their persons confined in such cities in
Italy as Cicero should approve, there to be kept in custody till
Catiline was conquered. To this sentence, as it was the most moderate,
and he that delivered it a most powerful speaker, Cicero himself gave
no small weight, for he stood up and, turning the scale on either side,
spoke in favor partly of the former, partly of Caesar's sentence. And
all Cicero's friends, judging Caesar's sentence most expedient for
Cicero, because he would incur the less blame if the conspirators were
not put to death, chose rather the latter; so that Silanus, also,
changing his mind, retracted his opinion, and said he had not declared
for capital, but only the utmost punishment, which to a Roman senator
is imprisonment. The first man who spoke against Caesar's motion was
Catulus Lutatius. Cato followed, and so vehemently urged in his speech
the strong suspicion about Caesar himself, and so filled the senate
with anger and resolution, that a decree was passed for the execution
of the conspirators. But Caesar opposed the confiscation of their
goods, not thinking it fair that those who had rejected the mildest
part of his sentence should avail themselves of the severest. And when
many insisted upon it, he appealed to the tribunes, but they would do
nothing; till Cicero himself yielding, remitted that part of the
sentence.
After this, Cicero went out with the senate to the conspirators; they
were not all together in one place, but the several praetors had them,
some one, some another, in custody. And first he took Lentulus from the
Palatine, and brought him by the Sacred Street, through the middle of
the marketplace, a circle of the most eminent citizens encompassing and
protecting him. The people, affrighted at what was doing, passed along
in silence, especially the young men; as if, with fear and trembling;
they were undergoing a rite of initiation into some ancient, sacred
mysteries of aristocratic power. Thus passing from the market-place,
and coming to the gaol, he delivered Lentulus to the officer, and
commanded him to execute him; and after him Cethegus, and so all the
rest in order, he brought and delivered up to execution. And when he
saw many of the conspirators in the market-place, still standing
together in companies, ignorant of what was done, and waiting for the
night, supposing the men were still alive and in a possibility of being
rescued, he called out in a loud voice, and said, "They did live;" for
so the Romans, to avoid inauspicious language, name those that are dead.
It was now evening, when he returned from the market-place to his own
house, the citizens no longer attending him with silence, nor in order,
but receiving him, as he passed, with acclamations and applauses, and
saluting him as the savior and founder of his country. A bright light
shone through the streets from the lamps and torches set up at the
doors, and the women showed lights from the tops of the houses, to
honor Cicero, and to behold him returning home with a splendid train of
the most principal citizens; amongst whom were many who had conducted
great wars, celebrated triumphs, and added to the possessions of the
Roman empire, both by sea and land. These, as they passed along with
him, acknowledged to one another, that though the Roman people were
indebted to several officers and commanders of that age for riches,
spoils, and power, yet to Cicero alone they owed the safety and
security of all these, for delivering them from so great and imminent a
danger. For though it might seem no wonderful thing to prevent the
design, and punish the conspirators, yet to defeat the greatest of all
conspiracies with so little disturbance, trouble, and commotion, was
very extraordinary. For the greater part of those who had flocked in to
Catiline, as soon as they heard the fate of Lentulus and Cethegus, left
and forsook him, and he himself, with his remaining forces, joining
battle with Antonius, was destroyed with his army.
And yet there were some who were very ready both to speak ill of
Cicero, and to do him hurt for these actions; and they had for their
leaders some of the magistrates of the ensuing year, as Caesar, who was
one of the praetors, and Metellus and Bestia, the tribunes. These,
entering upon their office some few days before Cicero's consulate
expired, would not permit him to make any address to the people, but,
throwing the benches before the Rostra, hindered his speaking, telling
him he might, if he pleased, make the oath of withdrawal from office,
and then come down again. Cicero, accordingly, accepting the
conditions, came forward to make his withdrawal; and silence being
made, he recited his oath, not in the usual, but in a new and peculiar
form, namely, that he had saved his country, and preserved the empire;
the truth of which oath all the people confirmed with theirs. Caesar
and the tribunes, all the more exasperated by this, endeavored to
create him further trouble, and for this purpose proposed a law for
calling Pompey home with his army, to put an end to Cicero's
usurpation. But it was a very great advantage for Cicero and the whole
commonwealth that Cato was at that time one of the tribunes. For he,
being of equal power with the rest, and of greater reputation, could
oppose their designs. He easily defeated their other projects, and, in
an oration to the people, so highly extolled Cicero's consulate, that
the greatest honors were decreed him, and he was publicly declared the
Father of his Country, which title he seems to have obtained, the first
man who did so, when Cato gave it him in this address to the people.
At this time, therefore, his authority was very great in the city; but
he created himself much envy, and offended very many, not by any evil
action, but because he was always lauding and magnifying himself. For
neither senate, nor assembly of the people, nor court of judicature
could meet, in which he was not heard to talk of Catiline and Lentulus.
Indeed, he also filled his books and writings with his own praises, to
such an excess as to render a style, in itself most pleasant and
delightful, nauseous and irksome to his hearers; this ungrateful humor,
like a disease, always cleaving to him. Nevertheless, though he was
intemperately fond of his own glory, he was very free from envying
others, and was, on the contrary, most liberally profuse in commending
both the ancients and his contemporaries, as anyone may see in his
writings. And many such sayings of his are also remembered; as that he
called Aristotle a river of flowing gold, and said of Plato's
Dialogues, that if Jupiter were to speak, it would be in language like
theirs. He used to call Theophrastus his special luxury. And being
asked which of Demosthenes's orations he liked best, he answered, the
longest. And yet some affected imitators of Demosthenes have complained
of some words that occur in one of his letters, to the effect that
Demosthenes sometimes falls asleep in his speeches; forgetting the many
high encomiums he continually passes upon him, and the compliment he
paid him when he named the most elaborate of all his orations, those he
wrote against Antony, Philippics. And as for the eminent men of his own
time, either in eloquence or philosophy, there was not one of them whom
he did not, by writing or speaking favorably of him, render more
illustrious. He obtained of Caesar, when in power, the Roman
citizenship for Cratippus, the Peripatetic, and got the court of
Areopagus, by public decree, to request his stay at Athens, for the
instruction of their youth, and the honor of their city. There are
letters extant from Cicero to Herodes, and others to his son, in which
he recommends the study of philosophy under Cratippus. There is one in
which he blames Gorgias, the rhetorician, for enticing his son into
luxury and drinking, and, therefore, forbids him his company. And this,
and one other to Pelops, the Byzantine, are the only two of his Greek
epistles which seem to be written in anger. In the first, he justly
reflects on Gorgias, if he were what he was thought to be, a dissolute
and profligate character; but in the other, he rather meanly
expostulates and complains with Pelops, for neglecting to procure him a
decree of certain honors from the Byzantines.
Another illustration of his love of praise is the way in which
sometimes, to make his orations more striking, he neglected decorum and
dignity. When Munatius, who had escaped conviction by his advocacy,
immediately prosecuted his friend Sabinus, he said in the warmth of his
resentment, "Do you suppose you were acquitted for your own meets,
Munatius, and was it not that I so darkened the case, that the court
could not see your guilt?" When from the Rostra he had made an eulogy
on Marcus Crassus, with much applause, and within a few days after
again as publicly reproached him, Crassus called to him, and said, "Did
not you yourself two days ago, in this same place, commend me?" "Yes,"
said Cicero, "I exercised my eloquence in declaiming upon a bad
subject." At another time, Crassus had said that no one of his family
had ever lived beyond sixty years of age, and afterwards denied it, and
asked, "What should put it into my head to say so?" "It was to gain the
people's favor," answered Cicero; "you knew how glad they would be to
hear it." When Crassus expressed admiration of the Stoic doctrine, that
the good man is always rich, "Do you not mean," said Cicero, "their
doctrine that all things belong to the wise?" Crassus being generally
accused of covetousness. One of Crassus's sons, who was thought so
exceedingly like a man of the name of Axius as to throw some suspicion
on his mother's honor, made a successful speech in the senate. Cicero
on being asked how he liked it, replied with the Greek words, Axios
Crassou.
When Crassus was about to go into Syria, he desired to leave Cicero
rather his friend than his enemy, and, therefore, one day saluting him,
told him he would come and sup with him, which the other as courteously
received. Within a few days after, on some of Cicero's acquaintances
interceding for Vatinius, as desirous of reconciliation and friendship,
for he was then his enemy, "What," he replied, "does Vatinius also wish
to come and sup with me?" Such was his way with Crassus. When Vatinius,
who had swellings in his neck, was pleading a cause, he called him the
tumid orator; and having been told by someone that Vatinius was dead,
on hearing presently after that he was alive, "May the rascal perish,"
said he, "for his news not being true."
Upon Caesar's bringing forward a law for the division of the lands in
Campania amongst the soldiers, many in the senate opposed it; amongst
the rest, Lucius Gellius, one of the oldest men in the house, said it
should never pass whilst he lived. "Let us postpone it," said Cicero,
"Gellius does not ask us to wait long." There was a man of the name of
Octavius, suspected to be of African descent. He once said, when Cicero
was pleading, that he could not hear him; "Yet there are holes," said
Cicero, "in your ears." When Metellus Nepos told him, that he had
ruined more as a witness, than he had saved as an advocate, "I admit,"
said Cicero, "that I have more truth than eloquence." To a young man
who was suspected of having given a poisoned cake to his father, and
who talked largely of the invectives he meant to deliver against
Cicero, "Better these," replied he, "than your cakes." Publius Sextius,
having amongst others retained Cicero as his advocate in a certain
cause, was yet desirous to say all for himself, and would not allow
anybody to speak for him; when he was about to receive his acquittal
from the judges, and the ballots were passing, Cicero called to him,
"Make haste, Sextius, and use your time; tomorrow you will be nobody."
He cited Publius Cotta to bear testimony in a certain cause, one who
affected to be thought a lawyer, though ignorant and unlearned; to
whom, when he had said, "I know nothing of the matter," he answered,
"You think, perhaps, we ask you about a point of law." To Metellus
Nepos, who, in a dispute between them, repeated several times, "Who was
your father, Cicero?" he replied, "Your mother has made the answer to
such a question in your case more difficult;" Nepos's mother having
been of ill repute. The son, also, was of a giddy, uncertain temper. At
one time, he suddenly threw up his office of tribune, and sailed off
into Syria to Pompey; and immediately after, with as little reason,
came back again. He gave his tutor, Philagrus, a funeral with more than
necessary attention, and then set up the stone figure of a crow over
his tomb. "This," said Cicero, "is really appropriate; as he did not
teach you to speak, but to fly about." When Marcus Appius, in the
opening of some speech in a court of justice, said that his friend had
desired him to employ industry, eloquence, and fidelity in that cause,
Cicero answered, "And how have you had the heart not to accede to any
one of his requests?"
To use this sharp raillery against opponents and antagonists in
judicial pleading seems allowable rhetoric. But he excited much ill
feeling by his readiness to attack anyone for the sake of a jest. A few
anecdotes of this kind may be added. Marcus Aquinius, who had two
sons-in-law in exile, received from him the name of king Adrastus.
Lucius Cotta, an intemperate lover of wine, was censor when Cicero
stood for the consulship. Cicero, being thirsty at the election, his
friends stood round about him while he was drinking. "You have reason
to be afraid," he said, "lest the censor should be angry with me for
drinking water." Meeting one day Voconius with his three very ugly
daughters, he quoted the verse,
He reared a race without Apollo's leave.
When Marcus Gellius, who was reputed the son of a slave, had read
several letters in the senate with a very shrill, and loud voice,
"Wonder not," said Cicero, "he comes of the criers." When Faustus
Sylla, the son of Sylla the dictator, who had, during his dictatorship,
by public bills proscribed and condemned so many citizens, had so far
wasted his estate, and got into debt, that he was forced to publish his
bills of sale, Cicero told him that he liked these bills much better
than those of his father. By this habit he made himself odious with
many people.
But Clodius's faction conspired against him upon the following
occasion. Clodius was a member of a noble family, in the flower of his
youth, and of a bold and resolute temper. He, being in love with
Pompeia, Caesar's wife, got privately into his house in the dress and
attire of a music-girl; the women being at that time offering there the
sacrifice which must not be seen by men, and there was no man present.
Clodius, being a youth and beardless, hoped to get to Pompeia among the
women without being taken notice of. But coming into a great house by
night, he missed his way in the passages, and a servant belonging to
Aurelia, Caesar's mother, spying him wandering up and down, inquired
his name. Thus being necessitated to speak, he told her he was seeking
for one of Pompeia's maids, Abra by name; and she, perceiving it not to
be a woman's voice, shrieked out, and called in the women; who,
shutting the gates, and searching every place, at length found Clodius
hidden in the chamber of the maid with whom he had come in. This matter
being much talked about, Caesar put away his wife, Pompeia, and Clodius
was prosecuted for profaning the holy rites.
Cicero was at this time his friend, for he had been useful to him in
the conspiracy of Catiline, as one of his forwardest assistants and
protectors. But when Clodius rested his defense upon this point, that
he was not then at Rome, but at a distance in the country, Cicero
testified that he had come to his house that day, and conversed with
him on several matters; which thing was indeed true, although Cicero
was thought to testify it not so much for the truth's sake as to
preserve his quiet with Terentia his wife. For she bore a grudge
against Clodius on account of his sister Clodia's wishing, as it was
alleged, to marry Cicero, and having employed for this purpose the
intervention of Tullus, a very intimate friend of Cicero's; and his
frequent visits to Clodia, who lived in their neighborhood, and the
attentions he paid to her had excited Terentia's suspicions, and, being
a woman of a violent temper, and having the ascendant over Cicero, she
urged him on to taking a part against Clodius, and delivering his
testimony. Many other good and honest citizens also gave evidence
against him, for perjuries, disorders, bribing the people, and
debauching women. Lucullus proved, by his women-servants, that he had
debauched his youngest sister when she was Lucullus's wife; and there
was a general belief that he had done the same with his two other
sisters, Tertia, whom Marcius Rex, and Clodia, whom Metellus Celer had
married; the latter of whom was called Quadrantia, because one of her
lovers had deceived her with a purse of small copper money instead of
silver, the smallest copper coin being called a quadrant. Upon this
sister's account, in particular, Clodius's character was attacked.
Notwithstanding all this, when the common people united against the
accusers and witnesses and the whole party, the judges were affrighted,
and a guard was placed about them for their defense; and most of them
wrote their sentences on the tablets in such a way, that they could not
well be read. It was decided, however, that there was a majority for
his acquittal, and bribery was reported to have been employed; in
reference to which Catulus remarked, when he next met the judges, "You
were very right to ask for a guard, to prevent your money being taken
from you." And when Clodius upbraided Cicero that the judges had not
believed his testimony, "Yes," said he, "five and twenty of them
trusted me, and condemned you, and the other thirty did not trust you,
for they did not acquit you till they had got your money."
Caesar, though cited, did not give his testimony against Clodius, and
declared himself not convinced of his wife's adultery, but that he had
put her away because it was fit that Caesar's house should not be only
free of the evil fact, but of the fame too.
Clodius, having escaped this danger, and having got himself chosen one
of the tribunes, immediately attacked Cicero, heaping up all matters
and inciting all persons against him. The common people he gained over
with popular laws; to each of the consuls he decreed large provinces,
to Piso, Macedonia, and to Gabinius, Syria; he made a strong party
among the indigent citizens, to support him in his proceedings, and had
always a body of armed slaves about him. Of the three men then in
greatest power, Crassus was Cicero's open enemy, Pompey indifferently
made advances to both, and Caesar was going with an army into Gaul. To
him, though not his friend (what had occurred in the time of the
conspiracy having created suspicions between them), Cicero applied,
requesting an appointment as one of his lieutenants in the province.
Caesar accepted him, and Clodius, perceiving that Cicero would thus
escape his tribunician authority, professed to be inclinable to a
reconciliation, laid the greatest fault upon Terentia, made always a
favorable mention of him, and addressed him with kind expressions, as
one who felt no hatred or ill-will, but who merely wished to urge his
complaints in a moderate and friendly way. By these artifices, he so
freed Cicero of all his fears, that he resigned his appointment to
Caesar, and betook himself again to political affairs. At which Caesar
being exasperated, joined the party of Clodius against him, and wholly
alienated Pompey from him; he also himself declared in a public
assembly of the people, that he did not think Lentulus and Cethegus,
with their accomplices, were fairly and legally put to death without
being brought to trial. And this, indeed, was the crime charged upon
Cicero, and this impeachment he was summoned to answer. And so, as an
accused man, and in danger for the result, he changes his dress, and
went round with his hair untrimmed, in the attire of a suppliant, to
beg the people's grace. But Clodius met him in every corner, having a
band of abusive and daring fellows about him, who derided Cicero for
his change of dress and his humiliation, and often, by throwing dirt
and stones at him, interrupted his supplication to the people.
However, first of all, almost the whole equestrian order changed their
dress with him, and no less than twenty thousand young gentlemen
followed him with their hair untrimmed, and supplicating with him to
the people. And then the senate met, to pass a decree that the people
should change their dress as in time of public sorrow. But the consuls
opposing it, and Clodius with armed men besetting the senate-house,
many of the senators ran out, crying out and tearing their clothes. But
this sight moved neither shame nor pity; Cicero must either fly or
determine it by the sword with Clodius. He entreated Pompey to aid him,
who was on purpose gone out of the way, and was staying at his
country-house in the Alban hills; and first he sent his son-in-law Piso
to intercede with him, and afterwards set out to go himself. Of which
Pompey being informed, would not stay to see him, being ashamed at the
remembrance of the many conflicts in the commonwealth which Cicero had
undergone in his behalf, and how much of his policy he had directed for
his advantage. But being now Caesar's son-in-law, at his instance he
had set aside all former kindness, and, slipping out at another door,
avoided the interview. Thus being forsaken by Pompey, and left alone to
himself, he fled to the consuls. Gabinius was rough with him, as usual,
but Piso spoke more courteously, desiring him to yield and give place
for a while to the fury of Clodius, and to await a change of times, and
to be now, as before, his country's savior from the peril of these
troubles and commotions which Clodius was exciting.
Cicero, receiving this answer, consulted with his friends. Lucullus
advised him to stay, as being sure to prevail at last; others to fly,
because the people would soon desire him again, when they should have
enough of the rage and madness of Clodius. This last Cicero approved.
But first he took a statue of Minerva, which had been long set up and
greatly honored in his house, and carrying it to the capitol, there
dedicated it, with the inscription, "To Minerva, Patroness of Rome."
And receiving an escort from his friends, about the middle of the night
he left the city, and went by land through Lucania, intending to reach
Sicily.
But as soon as it was publicly known that he was fled, Clodius proposed
to the people a decree of exile, and by his own order interdicted him
fire and water, prohibiting any within five hundred miles in Italy to
receive him into their houses. Most people, out of respect for Cicero,
paid no regard to this edict, offering him every attention and
escorting him on his way. But at Hipponium, a city of Lucania, now
called Vibo, one Vibius, a Sicilian by birth, who, amongst many other
instances of Cicero's friendship, had been made head of the state
engineers when he was consul, would not receive him into his house,
sending him word he would appoint a place in the country for his
reception. Caius Vergilius, the praetor of Sicily, who had been on the
most intimate terms with him, wrote to him to forbear coming into
Sicily. At these things Cicero being disheartened, went to Brundusium,
whence putting forth with a prosperous wind, a contrary gale blowing
from the sea carried him back to Italy- the next day. He put again to
sea, and having reached Dyrrachium, on his coming to shore there, it is
reported that an earthquake and a convulsion in the sea happened at the
same time, signs which the diviners said intimated that his exile would
not be long, for these were prognostics of change. Although many
visited him with respect, and the cities of Greece contended which
should honor him most, he yet continued disheartened and disconsolate,
like an unfortunate lover, often casting his looks back upon Italy;
and, indeed, he was become so poor-spirited, so humiliated and dejected
by his misfortunes, as none could have expected in a man who had
devoted so much of his life to study and learning. And yet he often
desired his friends not to call him orator, but philosopher, because he
had made philosophy his business, and had only used rhetoric as an
instrument for attaining his objects in public life. But the desire of
glory has great power in washing the tinctures of philosophy out of the
souls of men, and in imprinting the passions of the common people, by
custom and conversation, in the minds of those that take a part in
governing them, unless the politician be very careful so to engage in
public affairs as to interest himself only in the affairs themselves,
but not participate in the passions that are consequent to them.
Clodius, having thus driven away Cicero, fell to burning his farms and
villas, and afterwards his city house, and built on the site of it a
temple to Liberty. The rest of his property he exposed to sale by daily
proclamation, but nobody came to buy. By these courses he became
formidable to the noble citizens, and, being followed by the
commonalty, whom he had filled with insolence and licentiousness, he
began at last to try his strength against Pompey, some of whose
arrangements in the countries he conquered, he attacked. The disgrace
of this made Pompey begin to reproach himself for his cowardice in
deserting Cicero, and, changing his mind, he now wholly set himself
with his friends to contrive his return. And when Clodius opposed it,
the senate made a vote that no public measure should be ratified or
passed by them till Cicero was recalled. But when Lentulus was consul,
the commotions grew so high upon this matter, that the tribunes were
wounded in the Forum, and Quintus, Cicero's brother, was left as dead,
lying unobserved amongst the slain. The people began to change in their
feelings; and Annius Milo, one of their tribunes, was the first who
took confidence to summon Clodius to trial for acts of violence. Many
of the common people and out of the neighboring cities formed a party
with Pompey, and he went with them, and drove Clodius out of the Forum,
and summoned the people to pass their vote. And, it is said, the people
never passed any suffrage more unanimously than this. The senate, also,
striving to outdo the people, sent letters of thanks to those cities
which had received Cicero with respect in his exile, and decreed that
his house and his country-places, which Clodius had destroyed, should
be rebuilt at the public charge.
Thus Cicero returned sixteen months after his exile, and the cities
were so glad, and people so zealous to meet him, that what he boasted
of afterwards, that Italy had brought him on her shoulders home to
Rome, was rather less than the truth. And Crassus himself, who had been
his enemy before his exile, went then voluntarily to meet him, and was
reconciled, to please his son Publius, as he said, who was Cicero's
affectionate admirer.
Cicero had not been long at Rome, when, taking the opportunity of
Clodius's absence, he went, with a great company, to the capitol, and
there tore and defaced the tribunician tables, in which were recorded
the acts done in the time of Clodius. And on Clodius calling him in
question for this, he answered, that he, being of the patrician order,
had obtained the office of tribune against law, and, therefore, nothing
done by him was valid. Cato was displeased at this, and opposed Cicero,
not that he commended Clodius, but rather disapproved of his whole
administration; yet, he contended, it was an irregular and violent
course for the senate to vote the illegality of so many decrees and
acts, including those of Cato's own government in Cyprus and at
Byzantium. This occasioned a breach between Cato and Cicero, which,
though it came not to open enmity, yet made a more reserved friendship
between them.
After this, Milo killed Clodius, and, being arraigned for the murder,
he procured Cicero as his advocate. The senate, fearing lest the
questioning of so eminent and high-spirited a citizen as Milo might
disturb the peace of the city, committed the superintendence of this
and of the other trials to Pompey, who should undertake to maintain the
security alike of the city and of the courts of justice. Pompey,
therefore, went in the night, and occupying the high grounds about it,
surrounded the Forum with soldiers. Milo, fearing lest Cicero, being
disturbed by such an unusual sight, should conduct his cause the less
successfully, persuaded him to come in a litter into the Forum, and
there repose himself till the judges were set, and the court filled.
For Cicero, it seems, not only wanted courage in arms, but, in his
speaking also, began with timidity, and in many cases scarcely left off
trembling and shaking when he had got thoroughly into the current and
the substance of his speech. Being to defend Licinius Murena against
the prosecution of Cato, and being eager to outdo Hortensius, who had
made his plea with great applause, he took so little rest that night,
and was so disordered with thought and over-watching, that he spoke
much worse than usual. And so now, on quitting his litter to commence
the cause of Milo, at the sight of Pompey, posted, as it were, and
encamped with his troops above, and seeing arms shining round about the
Forum, he was so confounded, that he could hardly begin his speech, for
the trembling of his body, and hesitance of his tongue; whereas Milo,
meantime, was bold and intrepid in his demeanor, disdaining either to
let his hair grow, or to put on the mourning habit. And this, indeed,
seems to have been one principal cause of his condemnation. Cicero,
however, was thought not so much to have shown timidity for himself, as
anxiety about his friend.
He was made one of the priests, whom the Romans call Augurs, in the
room of Crassus the younger, dead in Parthia. Then he was appointed, by
lot, to the province of Cilicia, and set sail thither with twelve
thousand foot and two thousand six hundred horse. He had orders to
bring back Cappadocia to its allegiance to Ariobarzanes, its king;
which settlement he effected very completely without recourse to arms.
And perceiving the Cilicians, by the great loss the Romans had suffered
in Parthia, and the commotions in Syria, to have become disposed to
attempt a revolt, by a gentle course of government he soothed them back
into fidelity. He would accept none of the presents that were offered
him by the kings; he remitted the charge of public entertainments, but
daily, at his own house, received the ingenious and accomplished
persons of the province, not sumptuously, but liberally. His house had
no porter, nor was he ever found in bed by any man, but early in the
morning, standing or walking before his door, he received those who
came to offer their salutations. He is said never once to have ordered
any of those under his command to be beaten with rods, or to have their
garments rent. He never gave contumelious language in his anger, nor
inflicted punishment with reproach. He detected an embezzlement, to a
large amount, in the public money, and thus relieved the cities from
their burdens, at the same time that he allowed those who made
restitution, to retain without further punishment their rights as
citizens. He engaged too, in war, so far as to give a defeat to the
banditti who infested Mount Amanus, for which he was saluted by his
army Imperator. To Caecilius, the orator, who asked him to send him
some panthers from Cilicia, to be exhibited on the theater at Rome, he
wrote, in commendation of his own actions, that there were no panthers
in Cilicia, for they were all fled to Caria, in anger that in so
general a peace they had become the sole objects of attack. On leaving
his province, he touched at Rhodes, and tarried for some length of time
at Athens, longing much to renew his old studies. He visited the
eminent men of learning, and saw his former friends and companions; and
after receiving in Greece the honors that were due to him, returned to
the city, where everything was now just as it were in a flame, breaking
out into a civil war.
When the senate would have decreed him a triumph, he told them he had
rather, so differences were accommodated, follow the triumphal chariot
of Caesar. In private, he gave advice to both, writing many letters to
Caesar, and personally entreating Pompey; doing his best to soothe and
bring to reason both the one and the other. But when matters became
incurable, and Caesar was approaching Rome, and Pompey durst not abide
it, but, with many honest citizens, left the city, Cicero, as yet, did
not join in the flight, and was reputed to adhere to Caesar. And it is
very evident he was in his thoughts much divided, and wavered painfully
between both, for he writes in his epistles, "To which side should I
turn? Pompey has the fair and honorable plea for war; and Caesar, on
the other hand, has managed his affairs better, and is more able to
secure himself and his friends. So that I know whom I should fly, not
whom I should fly to." But when Trebatius, one of Caesar's friends, by
letter signified to him that Caesar thought it was his most desirable
course to join his party, and partake his hopes, but if he considered
himself too old a man for this, then he should retire into Greece, and
stay quietly there, out of the way of either party, Cicero, wondering
that Caesar had not written himself, gave an angry reply, that he
should not do anything unbecoming his past life. Such is the account to
be collected from his letters.
But as soon as Caesar was marched into Spain, he immediately sailed
away to join Pompey. And he was welcomed by all but Cato; who, taking
him privately, chid him for coming to Pompey. As for himself, he said,
it had been indecent to forsake that part in the commonwealth which he
had chosen from the beginning; but Cicero might have been more useful
to his country and friends, if, remaining neuter, he had attended and
used his influence to moderate the result, instead of coming hither to
make himself, without reason or necessity, an enemy to Caesar, and a
partner in such great dangers. By this language, partly, Cicero's
feelings were altered, and partly, also, because Pompey made no great
use of him. Although, indeed, he was himself the cause of it, by his
not denying that he was sorry he had come, by his depreciating Pompey's
resources, finding fault underhand with his counsels, and continually
indulging in jests and sarcastic remarks on his fellow-soldiers. Though
he went about in the camp with a gloomy and melancholy face himself, he
was always trying to raise a laugh in others, whether they wished it or
not. It may not be amiss to mention a few instances. To Domitius, on
his preferring to a command one who was no soldier, and saying, in his
defense, that he was a modest and prudent person, he replied, "Why did
not you keep him for a tutor for your children?" On hearing Theophanes,
the Lesbian, who was master of the engineers in the army, praised for
the admirable way in which he had consoled the Rhodians for the loss of
their fleet, "What a thing it is," he said, "to have a Greek in
command!" When Caesar had been acting successfully, and in a manner
blockading Pompey, Lentulus was saying it was reported that Caesar's
friends were out of heart; "Because," said Cicero, "they do not wish
Caesar well." To one Marcius, who had just come from Italy, and told
them that there was a strong report at Rome that Pompey was blocked up,
he said, "And you sailed hither to see it with your own eyes." To
Nonius, encouraging them after a defeat to be of good hope, because
there were seven eagles still left in Pompey's camp, "Good reason for
encouragement," said Cicero, "if we were going to fight with
jack-daws." Labienus insisted on some prophecies to the effect that
Pompey would gain the victory; "Yes," said Cicero, "and the first step
in the campaign has been losing our camp."
After the battle of Pharsalia was over, at which he was not present for
want of health, and Pompey was fled, Cato, having considerable forces
and a great fleet at Dyrrachium, would have had Cicero
commander-in-chief, according to law, and the precedence of his
consular dignity. And on his refusing the command, and wholly declining
to take part in their plans for continuing the war, he was in the
greatest danger of being killed, young Pompey and his friends calling
him traitor, and drawing their swords upon him; only that Cato
interposed, and hardly rescued and brought him out of the camp.
Afterwards, arriving at Brundusium, he tarried there sometime in
expectation of Caesar, who was delayed by his affairs in Asia and
Egypt. And when it was told him that he was arrived at Tarentum, and
was coming thence by land to Brundusium, he hastened towards him, not
altogether without hope, and yet in some fear of making experiment of
the temper of an enemy and conqueror in the presence of many witnesses.
But there was no necessity for him either to speak or do anything
unworthy of himself; for Caesar, as soon as he saw him coming a good
way before the rest of the company, came down to meet him, saluted him,
and, leading the way, conversed with him alone for some furlongs. And
from that time forward he continued to treat him with honor and
respect; so that, when Cicero wrote an oration in praise of Cato,
Caesar, in writing an answer to it, took occasion to commend Cicero's
own life and eloquence, comparing him to Pericles and Theramenes.
Cicero's oration was called Cato; Caesar's, anti-Cato.
So also, it is related that when Quintus Ligarius was prosecuted for
having been in arms against Caesar, and Cicero had undertaken his
defense, Caesar said to his friends, "Why might we not as well once
more hear a speech from Cicero? Ligarius, there is no question, is a
wicked man and an enemy." But when Cicero began to speak, he
wonderfully moved him, and proceeded in his speech with such varied
pathos, and such a charm of language, that the color of Caesar's
countenance often changed, and it was evident that all the passions of
his soul were in commotion. At length, the orator touching upon the
Pharsalian battle, he was so affected that his body trembled, and some
of the papers he held dropped out of his hands. And thus he was
overpowered, and acquitted Ligarius.
Henceforth, the commonwealth being changed into a monarchy, Cicero
withdrew himself from public affairs, and employed his leisure in
instructing those young men that would, in philosophy; and by the near
intercourse he thus had with some of the noblest and highest in rank,
he again began to possess great influence in the city. The work and
object which he set himself was to compose and translate philosophical
dialogues and to render logical and physical terms into the Roman
idiom. For he it was, as it is said, who first or principally gave
Latin names to phantasia, syncatathesis, epokhe, catalepsis, atomon,
ameres, kenon, and other such technical terms, which, either by
metaphors or other means of accommodation, he succeeded in making
intelligible and expressible to the Romans. For his recreation, he
exercised his dexterity in poetry, and when he was set to it, would
make five hundred verses in a night. He spent the greatest part of his
time at his country-house near Tusculum. He wrote to his friends that
he led the life of Laertes, either jestingly, as his custom was, or
rather from a feeling of ambition for public employment, which made him
impatient under the present state of affairs. He rarely went to the
city, unless to pay his court to Caesar. He was commonly the first
amongst those who voted him honors, and sought out new terms of praise
for himself and for his actions. As, for example, what he said of the
statues of Pompey, which had been thrown down, and were afterwards by
Caesar's orders set up again: that Caesar, by this act of humanity, had
indeed set up Pompey's statues, but he had fixed and established his
own.
He had a design, it is said, of writing the history of his country,
combining with it much of that of Greece, and incorporating in it all
the stories and legends of the past that he had collected. But his
purposes were interfered with by various public and various private
unhappy occurrences and misfortunes; for most of which he was himself
in fault. For first of all, he put away his wife Terentia, by whom he
had been neglected in the time of the war, and sent away destitute of
necessaries for his journey; neither did he find her kind when he
returned into Italy, for she did not join him at Brundusium, where he
stayed a long time, nor would allow her young daughter, who undertook
so long a journey, decent attendance, or the requisite expenses;
besides, she left him a naked and empty house, and yet had involved him
in many and great debts. These were alleged as the fairest reasons for
the divorce. But Terentia, who denied them all, had the most
unmistakable defense furnished her by her husband himself, who not long
after married a young maiden for the love of her beauty, as Terentia
upbraided him; or as Tiro, his emancipated slave, has written, for her
riches, to discharge his debts. For the young woman was very rich, and
Cicero had the custody of her estate, being left guardian in trust; and
being indebted many myriads of money, he was persuaded by his friends
and relations to marry her, notwithstanding his disparity of age, and
to use her money to satisfy his creditors. Antony, who mentions this
marriage in his answer to the Philippics, reproaches him for putting
away a wife with whom he had lived to old age; adding some happy
strokes of sarcasm on Cicero's domestic, inactive, unsoldier-like
habits. Not long after this marriage, his daughter died in child-bed at
Lentulus's house, to whom she had been married after the death of Piso,
her former husband. The philosophers from all parts came to comfort
Cicero; for his grief was so excessive, that he put away his
new-married wife, because she seemed to be pleased at the death of
Tullia. And thus stood Cicero's domestic affairs at this time.
He had no concern in the design that was now forming against Caesar,
although, in general, he was Brutus's most principal confidant, and one
who was as aggrieved at the present, and as desirous of the former
state of public affairs, as any other whatsoever. But they feared his
temper, as wanting courage, and his old age, in which the most daring
dispositions are apt to be timorous.
As soon, therefore, as the act was committed by Brutus and Cassius, and
the friends of Caesar were got together, so that there was fear the
city would again be involved in a civil war, Antony, being consul,
convened the senate, and made a short address recommending concord. And
Cicero, following with various remarks such as the occasion called for,
persuaded the senate to imitate the Athenians, and decree an amnesty
for what had been done in Caesar's case, and to bestow provinces on
Brutus and Cassius. But neither of these things took effect. For as
soon as the common people, of themselves inclined to pity, saw the dead
body of Caesar borne through the marketplace, and Antony showing his
clothes filled with blood, and pierced through in every part with
swords, enraged to a degree of frenzy, they made a search for the
murderers, and with firebrands in their hands ran to their houses to
burn them. They, however, being forewarned, avoided this danger; and
expecting many more and greater to come, they left the city.
Antony on this was at once in exultation, and everyone was in alarm
with the prospect that he would make himself sole ruler, and Cicero in
more alarm than anyone. For Antony, seeing his influence reviving in
the commonwealth, and knowing how closely he was connected with Brutus,
was ill-pleased to have him in the city. Besides, there had been some
former jealousy between them, occasioned by the difference of their
manners. Cicero, fearing the event, was inclined to go as lieutenant
with Dolabella into Syria. But Hirtius and Pansa, consuls elect as
successors of Antony, good men and lovers of Cicero, entreated him not
to leave them, undertaking to put down Antony if he would stay in Rome.
And he, neither distrusting wholly, nor trusting them, let Dolabella go
without him, promising Hirtius that he would go and spend his summer at
Athens, and return again when he entered upon his office. So he set out
on his journey; but some delay occurring in his passage, new
intelligence, as often happens, came suddenly from Rome, that Antony
had made an astonishing change, and was doing all things and managing
all public affairs at the will of the senate, and that there wanted
nothing but his presence to bring things to a happy settlement. And
therefore, blaming himself for his cowardice, he returned again to
Rome, and was not deceived in his hopes at the beginning. For such
multitudes flocked out to meet him, that the compliments and civilities
which were paid him at the gates, and at his entrance into the city,
took up almost one whole day's time.
On the morrow, Antony convened the senate, and summoned Cicero thither.
He came not, but kept is bed, pretending to be ill with his journey;
but the true reason seemed the fear of some design against him, upon a
suspicion and intimation given him on his way to Rome. Antony, however,
showed great offense at the affront, and sent soldiers, commanding them
to bring him or burn his house; but many interceding and supplicating
for him, he was contented to accept sureties. Ever after, when they
met, they passed one another with silence, and continued on their
guard, till Caesar, the younger, coming from Apollonia, entered on the
first Caesar's inheritance, and was engaged in a dispute with Antony
about two thousand five hundred myriads of money, which Antony detained
from the estate.
Upon this, Philippus, who married the mother, and Marcellus, who
married the sister of young Caesar, came with the young man to Cicero,
and agreed with him that Cicero should give them the aid of his
eloquence and political influence with the senate and people, and
Caesar give Cicero the defense of his riches and arms. For the young
man had already a great party of the soldiers of Caesar about him. And
Cicero's readiness to join him was founded, it is said, on some yet
stronger motives; for it seems, while Pompey and Caesar were yet alive,
Cicero, in his sleep, had fancied himself engaged in calling some of
the sons of the senators into the capitol, Jupiter being about,
according to the dream, to declare one of them the chief ruler of Rome.
The citizens, running up with curiosity, stood about the temple, and
the youths, sitting in their purple-bordered robes, kept silence. On a
sudden the doors opened, and the youths, arising one by one in order,
passed round the god, who reviewed them all, and, to their sorrow,
dismissed them; but when this one was passing by, the god stretched
forth his right hand and said, "O ye Romans, this young man, when he
shall be lord of Rome, shall put an end to all your civil wars." It is
said that Cicero formed from his dream a distinct image of the youth,
and retained it afterwards perfectly, but did not know who it was. The
next day, going down into the Campus Martius, he met the boys resuming
from their gymnastic exercises, and the first was he, just as he had
appeared to him in his dream. Being astonished at it, he asked him who
were his parents. And it proved to be this young Caesar, whose father
was a man of no great eminence, Octavius, and his mother, Attia,
Caesar's sister's daughter; for which reason, Caesar, who had no
children, made him by will the heir of his house and property. From
that time, it is said that Cicero studiously noticed the youth whenever
he met him, and he as kindly received the civility; and by fortune he
happened to be born when Cicero was consul.
These were the reasons spoken of; but it was principally Cicero's
hatred of Antony, and a temper unable to resist honor, which fastened
him to Caesar, with the purpose of getting the support of Caesar's
power for his own public designs. For the young man went so far in his
court to him, that he called him Father; at which Brutus was so highly
displeased, that, in his epistles to Atticus he reflected on Cicero
saying, it was manifest, by his courting Caesar for fear of Antony, he
did not intend liberty to his country, but an indulgent master to
himself. Notwithstanding, Brutus took Cicero's son, then studying
philosophy at Athens, gave him a command, and employed him in various
ways, with a good result. Cicero's own power at this time was at the
greatest height in the city, and he did whatsoever he pleased; he
completely overpowered and drove out Antony, and sent the two consuls,
Hirtius and Pansa, with an army, to reduce him; and, on the other hand,
persuaded the senate to allow Caesar the lictors and ensigns of a
praetor, as though he were his country's defender. But after Antony was
defeated in battle, and the two consuls slain, the armies united, and
ranged themselves with Caesar. And the senate, fearing the young man,
and his extraordinary fortune, endeavored, by honors and gifts, to call
off the soldiers from him, and to lessen his power; professing there
was no further need of arms, now Antony was put to flight.
This giving Caesar an affright, he privately sends some friends to
entreat and persuade Cicero to procure the consular dignity for them
both together; saying he should manage the affairs as he pleased,
should have the supreme power, and govern the young man who was only
desirous of name and glory. And Caesar himself confessed, that in fear
of ruin, and in danger of being deserted, he had seasonably made use of
Cicero's ambition, persuading him to stand with him, and to accept the
offer of his aid and interest for the consulship.
And now, more than at any other time, Cicero let himself be carried
away and deceived, though an old man, by the persuasions of a boy. He
joined him in soliciting votes, and procured the good-will of the
senate, not without blame at the time on the part of his friends; and
he, too, soon enough after, saw that he had ruined himself, and
betrayed the liberty of his country. For the young man, once
established, and possessed of the office of consul, bade Cicero
farewell; and, reconciling himself to Antony and Lepidus, joined his
power with theirs, and divided the government, like a piece of
property, with them. Thus united, they made a schedule of above two
hundred persons who were to be put to death. But the greatest
contention in all their debates was on the question of Cicero's case.
Antony would come to no conditions, unless he should be the first man
to be killed. Lepidus held with Antony, and Caesar opposed them both.
They met secretly and by themselves, for three days together, near the
town of Bononia. The spot was not far from the camp, with a river
surrounding it. Caesar, it is said, contended earnestly for Cicero the
first two days; but on the third day he yielded, and gave him up.
The terms of their mutual concessions were these; that Caesar should
desert Cicero, Lepidus his brother Paulus, and Antony, Lucius Caesar,
his uncle by his mother's side. Thus they let their anger and fury take
from them the sense of humanity, and demonstrated that no beast is more
savage than man, when possessed with power answerable to his rage.
Whilst these things were contriving, Cicero was with his brother at his
country-house near Tusculum; whence, hearing of the proscriptions, they
determined to pass to Astura, a villa of Cicero's near the sea, and to
take shipping from thence for Macedonia to Brutus, of whose strength in
that province news had already been heard. They traveled together in
their separate litters, overwhelmed with sorrow; and often stopping on
the way till their litters came together, condoled with one another.
But Quintus was the more disheartened, when he reflected on his want of
means for his journey; for, as he said, he had brought nothing with him
from home. And even Cicero himself had but a slender provision. It was
judged, therefore, most expedient that Cicero should make what haste he
could to fly, and Quintus return home to provide necessaries, and thus
resolved, they mutually embraced, and parted with many tears.
Quintus, within a few days after, betrayed by his servants to those who
came to search for him, was slain, together with his young son. But
Cicero was carried to Astura, where, finding a vessel, he immediately
went on board her, and sailed as far as Circaeum with a prosperous
gale; but when the pilots resolved immediately to set sail from thence,
whether fearing the sea, or not wholly distrusting the faith of Caesar,
he went on shore, and passed by land a hundred furlongs, as if he was
going for Rome. But losing resolution and changing his mind, he again
returned to the sea, and there spent the night in fearful and perplexed
thoughts. Sometimes he resolved to go into Caesar's house privately,
and there kill himself upon the altar of his household gods, to bring
divine vengeance upon him; but the fear of torture put him off this
course. And after passing through a variety of confused and uncertain
counsels, at last he let his servants carry him by sea to Capitae,
where he had a house, an agreeable place to retire to in the heat of
summer, when the Etesian winds are so pleasant.
There was at that place a chapel of Apollo, not far from the sea-side,
from which a flight of crows rose with a great noise, and made towards
Cicero's vessel as it rowed to land, and lighting on both sides of the
yard, some croaked, others pecked the ends of the ropes. This was
looked upon by all as an ill omen; and, therefore, Cicero went again
ashore, and entering his house, lay down upon his bed to compose
himself to rest. Many of the crows settled about the window, making a
dismal cawing; but one of them alighted upon the bed where Cicero lay
covered up, and with its bill by little and little pecked off the
clothes from his face. His servants, seeing this, blamed themselves
that they should stay to be spectators of their master's murder, and do
nothing in his defense, whilst the brute creatures came to assist and
take care of him in his undeserved affliction; and, therefore, partly
by entreaty, partly by force, they took him up, and carried him in his
litter towards the sea-side.
But in the meantime the assassins were come with a band of soldiers,
Herennius, a centurion, and Popillius, a tribune, whom Cicero had
formerly defended when prosecuted for the murder of his father. Finding
the doors shut, they broke them open, and Cicero not appearing and
those within saying they knew not where he was, it is stated that a
youth, who had been educated by Cicero in the liberal arts and
sciences, an emancipated slave of his brother Quintus, Philologus by
name, informed the tribune that the litter was on its way to the sea
through the close and shady walks. The tribune, taking a few with him,
ran to the place where he was to come out. And Cicero, perceiving
Herennius running in the walks, commanded his servants to set down the
litter; and stroking his chin, as he used to do, with his left hand, he
looked steadfastly upon his murderers, his person covered with dust,
his beard and hair untrimmed, and his face worn with his troubles. So
that the greatest part of those that stood by covered their faces
whilst Herennius slew him. And thus was he murdered, stretching forth
his neck out of the litter, being now in his sixty-fourth year.
Herennius cut off his head, and, by Antony's command, his hands also,
by which his Philippics were written; for so Cicero styled those
orations he wrote against Antony, and so they are called to this day.
When these members of Cicero were brought to Rome, Antony was holding
an assembly for the choice of public officers; and when he heard it,
and saw them, he cried out, "Now let there be an end of our
proscriptions." He commanded his head and hands to be fastened up over
the Rostra, where the orators spoke; a sight which the Roman people
shuddered to behold, and they believed they saw there not the face of
Cicero, but the image of Antony's own soul. And yet amidst these
actions he did justice in one thing, by delivering up Philologus to
Pomponia, the wife of Quintus; who, having got his body into her power,
besides other grievous punishments, made him cut off his own flesh by
pieces, and roast and eat it; for so some writers have related. But
Tiro, Cicero's emancipated slave, has not so much as mentioned the
treachery of Philologus.
Some long time after, Caesar, I have been told, visiting one of his
daughter's sons, found him with a book of Cicero's in his hand. The boy
for fear endeavored to hide it under his gown; which Caesar perceiving,
took it from him, and turning over a great part of the book standing,
gave it him again, and said, "My child, this was a learned man, and a
lover of his country." And immediately after he had vanquished Antony,
being then consul, he made Cicero's son his colleague in the office;
and under that consulship, the senate took down all the statues of
Antony, and abolished all the other honors that had been given him, and
decreed that none of that family should thereafter bear the name of
Marcus; and thus the final acts of the punishment of Antony were, by
the divine powers, devolved upon the family of Cicero.
COMPARISON OF DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO
These are the most memorable circumstances recorded in history of
Demosthenes and Cicero which have come to our knowledge. But omitting
an exact comparison of their respective faculties in speaking, yet thus
much seems fit to be said; that Demosthenes, to make himself a master
in rhetoric, applied all the faculties he had, natural or acquired,
wholly that way; that he far surpassed in force and strength of
eloquence all his contemporaries in political and judicial speaking, in
grandeur and majesty all the panegyrical orators, and in accuracy and
science all the logicians and rhetoricians of his day; that Cicero was
highly educated, and by his diligent study became a most accomplished
general scholar in all these branches, having left behind him numerous
philosophical treatises of his own on Academic principles; as, indeed,
even in his written speeches, both political and judicial, we see him
continually trying to show his learning by the way. And one may
discover the different temper of each of them in their speeches. For
Demosthenes's oratory was without all embellishment and jesting, wholly
composed for real effect and seriousness; not smelling of the lamp, as
Pytheas scoffingly said, but of the temperance, thoughtfulness,
austerity, and grave earnestness of his temper. Whereas Cicero's love
of mockery often ran him into scurrility; and in his love of laughing
away serious arguments in judicial cases by jests and facetious
remarks, with a view to the advantage of his clients, he paid too
little regard to what was decent: saying, for example, in his defense
of Caelius, that he had done no absurd thing in such plenty and
affluence to indulge himself in pleasures, it being a kind of madness
not to enjoy the things we possess, especially since the most eminent
philosophers have asserted pleasure to be the chiefest good. So also we
are told, that when Cicero, being consul, undertook the defense of
Murena against Cato's prosecution, by way of bantering Cato, he made a
long series of jokes upon the absurd paradoxes, as they are called, of
the Stoic sect; so that a loud laughter passing from the crowd to the
judges, Cato, with a quiet smile, said to those that sat next him, "My
friends, what an amusing consul we have."
And, indeed, Cicero was by natural temper very much disposed to mirth
and pleasantry, and always appeared with a smiling and serene
countenance. But Demosthenes had constant care and thoughtfulness in
his look, and a serious anxiety, which he seldom, if ever, laid aside;
and, therefore, was accounted by his enemies, as he himself confessed,
morose and ill-mannered.
Also, it is very evident, out of their several writings, that
Demosthenes never touched upon his own praises but decently and without
offense when there was need of it, and for some weightier end; but,
upon other occasions modestly and sparingly. But Cicero's immeasurable
boasting of himself in his orations argues him guilty of an
uncontrollable appetite for distinction, his cry being evermore that
arms should give place to the gown, and the soldier's laurel to the
tongue. And at last we find him extolling not only his deeds and
actions, but his orations also, as well those that were only spoken, as
those that were published; as if he were engaged in a boyish trial of
skill, who should speak best, with the rhetoricians, Isocrates and
Anaximenes, not as one who could claim the task to guide and instruct
the Roman nation, the
Soldier full-armed, terrific to the foe.
It is necessary, indeed, for a political leader to be an able speaker;
but it is an ignoble thing for any man to admire and relish the glory
of his own eloquence. And, in this matter, Demosthenes had a more than
ordinary gravity and magnificence of mind, accounting his talent in
speaking nothing more than a mere accomplishment and matter of
practice, the success of which must depend greatly on the good-will and
candor of his hearers, and regarding those who pride themselves on such
accounts to be men of a low and petty disposition.
The power of persuading and governing the people did, indeed, equally
belong to both, so that those who had armies and camps at command stood
in need of their assistance; as Chares, Diopithes, and Leosthenes of
Demosthenes's, Pompey and young Caesar of Cicero's, as the latter
himself admits in his Memoirs addressed to Agrippa and Maecenas. But
what are thought and commonly said most to demonstrate and try the
tempers of men, namely, authority and place, by moving every passion,
and discovering every frailty, these are things which Demosthenes never
received; nor was he ever in a position to give such proof of himself,
having never obtained any eminent office, nor led any of those armies
into the field against Philip which he raised by his eloquence. Cicero,
on the other hand, was sent quaestor into Sicily, and proconsul into
Cilicia and Cappadocia, at a time when avarice was at the height, and
the commanders and governors who were employed abroad, as though they
thought it a mean thing to steal, set themselves to seize by open
force; so that it seemed no heinous matter to take bribes, but he that
did it most moderately was in good esteem. And yet he, at this time,
gave the most abundant proofs alike of his contempt of riches and of
his humanity and good-nature. And at Rome, when he was created consul
in name, but indeed received sovereign and dictatorial authority
against Catiline and his conspirators, he attested the truth of Plato's
prediction, that then the miseries of states would be at an end, when
by a happy fortune supreme power, wisdom, and justice should be united
in one.
It is said, to the reproach of Demosthenes, that his eloquence was
mercenary; that he privately made orations for Phormion and
Apollodorus, though adversaries in the same cause; that he was charged
with moneys received from the king of Persia, and condemned for bribes
from Harpalus. And should we grant that all those (and they are not
few) who have made these statements against him have spoken what is
untrue, yet that Demosthenes was not the character to look without
desire on the presents offered him out of respect and gratitude by
royal persons, and that one who lent money on maritime usury was likely
to be thus indifferent, is what we cannot assert. But that Cicero
refused, from the Sicilians when he was quaestor, from the king of
Cappadocia when he was proconsul, and from his friends at Rome when he
was in exile, many presents, though urged to receive them, has been
said already.
Moreover, Demosthenes's banishment was infamous, upon conviction for
bribery; Cicero's very honorable, for ridding his country of a set of
villains. Therefore, when Demosthenes fled his country, no man regarded
it; for Cicero's sake the senate changed their habit, and put on
mourning, and would not be persuaded to make any act before Cicero's
return was decreed. Cicero, however, passed his exile idly in
Macedonia. But the very exile of Demosthenes made up a great part of
the services he did for his country; for he went through the cities of
Greece, and everywhere, as we have said, joined in the conflict on
behalf of the Grecians, driving out the Macedonian ambassadors, and
approving himself a much better citizen than Themistocles and
Alcibiades did in the like fortune. And, after his return, he again
devoted himself to the same public service, and continued firm to his
opposition to Antipater and the Macedonians. Whereas Laelius reproached
Cicero in the senate for sitting silent when Caesar, a beardless youth,
asked leave to come forward, contrary to the law, as a candidate for
the consulship; and Brutus, in his epistles, charges him with nursing
and rearing a greater and more heavy tyranny than that they had removed.
Finally, Cicero's death excites our pity; for an old man to be
miserably carried up and down by his servants, flying and hiding
himself from that death which was, in the course of nature, so near at
hand; and yet at last to be murdered. Demosthenes, though he seemed at
first a little to supplicate, yet, by his preparing and keeping the
poison by him, demands our admiration; and still more admirable was his
using it. When the temple of the god no longer afforded him a
sanctuary, he took refuge, as it were, at a mightier altar, freeing
himself from arms and soldiers, and laughing to scorn the cruelty of
Antipater.
DEMETRIUS
Ingenious men have long observed a resemblance between the arts and the
bodily senses. And they were first led to do so, I think, by noticing
the way in which, both in the arts and with our senses, we examine
opposites. Judgment once obtained, the use to which we put it differs
in the two cases. Our senses are not meant to pick out black rather
than white, to prefer sweet to bitter, or soft and yielding to hard and
resisting objects; all they have to do is to receive impressions as
they occur, and report to the understanding the impressions as
received. The arts, on the other hand, which reason institutes
expressly to choose and obtain some suitable, and to refuse and get rid
of some unsuitable object, have their proper concern in the
consideration of the former; though, in a casual and contingent way,
they must also, for the very rejection of them, pay attention to the
latter. Medicine, to produce health, has to examine disease, and music,
to create harmony, must investigate discord; and the supreme arts, of
temperance, of justice, and of wisdom, as they are acts of judgment and
selection, exercised not on good and just and expedient only, but also
on wicked, unjust, and inexpedient objects, do not give their
commendations to the mere innocence whose boast is its inexperience of
evil, and whose truer name is, by their award, suppleness and ignorance
of what all men who live aright should know. The ancient Spartans, at
their festivals, used to force their Helots to swallow large quantities
of raw wine, and then to expose them at the public tables, to let the
young men see what it is to be drunk. And, though I do not think it
consistent with humanity or with civil justice to correct one man's
morals by corrupting those of another, yet we may, I think, avail
ourselves of the cases of those who have fallen into indiscretions, and
have, in high stations, made themselves conspicuous for misconduct; and
I shall not do ill to introduce a pair or two of such examples among
these biographies, not, assuredly, to amuse and divert my readers, or
give variety to my theme, but, as Ismenias, the Theban, used to show
his scholars good and bad performers on the flute, and to tell them,
"You should play like this man," and "You should not play like that,"
and as Antigenidas used to say, Young people would take greater
pleasure in hearing good playing, if first they were set to hear bad,
so, and in the same manner, it seems to me likely enough that we shall
be all the more zealous and more emulous to read, observe, and imitate
the better lives, if we are not left in ignorance of the blameworthy
and the bad.
For this reason, the following book contains the lives of Demetrius
Poliorcetes, and Antonius the Triumvir; two persons who have abundantly
justified the words of Plato, that great natures produce great vices as
well as virtues. Both alike were amorous and intemperate, warlike and
munificent, sumptuous in their way of living, and overbearing in their
manners. And the likeness of their fortunes carried out the resemblance
in their characters. Not only were their lives each a series of great
successes and great disasters, mighty acquisitions and tremendous
losses of power, sudden overthrows, followed by unexpected recoveries,
but they died, also, Demetrius in actual captivity to his enemies, and
Antony on the verge of it.
Antigonus had by his wife, Stratonice, the daughter of Corrhaeus, two
sons; the one of whom, after the name of his uncle, he called
Demetrius, the other had that of his grandfather Philip, and died
young. This is the most general account, although some have related,
that Demetrius was not the son of Antigonus, but of his brother; and
that his own father dying young, and his mother being afterwards
married to Antigonus, he was accounted to be his son.
Demetrius had not the height of his father Antigonus, though he was a
tall man. But his countenance was one of such singular beauty and
expression, that no painter or sculptor ever produced a good likeness
of him. It combined grace and strength, dignity with boyish bloom, and,
in the midst of youthful heat and passion, what was hardest of all to
represent was a certain heroic look and air of kingly greatness. Nor
did his character belie his looks, as no one was better able to render
himself both loved and feared. For as he was the most easy and
agreeable of companions, and the most luxurious and delicate of princes
in his drinking and banqueting and daily pleasures, so in action there
was never anyone that showed a more vehement persistence, or a more
passionate energy. Bacchus, skilled in the conduct of war, and after
war in giving peace its pleasures and joys, seems to have been his
pattern among the gods.
He was wonderfully fond of his father Antigonus; and the tenderness he
had for his mother led him, for her sake, to redouble attentions, which
it was evident were not so much owing to fear or duty as to the more
powerful motives of inclination. It is reported, that, returning one
day from hunting, he went immediately into the apartment of Antigonus,
who was conversing with some ambassadors, and after stepping up and
kissing his father, he sat down by him, just as he was, still holding
in his hand the javelins which he had brought with him. Whereupon
Antigonus, who had just dismissed the ambassadors with their answer,
called out in a loud voice to them, as they were going, "Mention, also,
that this is the way in which we two live together;" as if to imply to
them that it was no slender mark of the power and security of his
government that there was so perfect a good understanding between
himself and his son. Such an unsociable, solitary thing is power, and
so much of jealousy and distrust in it, that the first and greatest of
the successors of Alexander could make it a thing to glory in that he
was not so afraid of his son as to forbid his standing beside him with
a weapon in his hand. And, in fact, among all the successors of
Alexander, that of Antigonus was the only house which, for many
descents, was exempted from crime of this kind; or, to state it
exactly, Philip was the only one of this family who was guilty of a
son's death. All the other families, we may fairly say, afforded
frequent examples of fathers who brought their children, husbands their
wives, children their mothers, to untimely ends; and that brothers
should put brothers to death was assumed, like the postulates of
mathematicians, as the common and recognized royal first principle of
safety.
Let us here record an example in the early life of Demetrius, showing
his natural humane and kindly disposition. It was an adventure which
passed betwixt him and Mithridates, the son of Ariobarzanes, who was
about the same age with Demetrius, and lived with him, in attendance on
Antigonus; and although nothing was said or could be said to his
reproach, he fell under suspicion, in consequence of a dream which
Antigonus had. Antigonus thought himself in a fair and spacious field,
where he sowed golden seed, and saw presently a golden crop come up; of
which, however, looking presently again, he saw nothing remain but the
stubble, without the ears. And as he stood by in anger and vexation, he
heard some voices saying, Mithridates had cut the golden harvest and
carried it off into Pontus. Antigonus, much discomposed with his dream,
first bound his son by an oath not to speak, and then related it to
him, adding, that he had resolved, in consequence, to lose no time in
ridding himself of Mithridates, and making away with him. Demetrius was
extremely distressed; and when the young man came, as usual, to pass
his time with him, to keep his oath he forbore from saying a word, but,
drawing him aside little by little from the company, as soon as they
were by themselves, without opening his lips, with the point of his
javelin he traced before him the words, "Fly, Mithridates." Mithridates
took the hint, and fled by night into Cappadocia, where Antigonus's
dream about him was quickly brought to its due fulfillment; for he got
possession of a large and fertile territory; and from him descended the
line of the kings of Pontus, which, in the eighth generation, was
reduced by the Romans. This may serve for a specimen of the early
goodness and love of justice that was part of Demetrius's natural
character.
But as in the elements of the world, Empedocles tells us, out of liking
and dislike, there spring up contention and warfare, and all the more,
the closer the contact, or the nearer the approach of the objects, even
so the perpetual hostilities among the successors of Alexander were
aggravated and inflamed, in particular cases, by juxtaposition of
interests and of territories; as, for example, in the case of Antigonus
and Ptolemy. News came to Antigonus that Ptolemy had crossed from
Cyprus and invaded Syria, and was ravaging the country and reducing the
cities. Remaining, therefore, himself in Phrygia, he sent Demetrius,
now twenty-two years old, to make his first essay as sole commander in
an important charge. He, whose youthful heat outran his experience,
advancing against an adversary trained in Alexander's school, and
practiced in many encounters, incurred a great defeat near the town of
Gaza, in which eight thousand of his men were taken, and five thousand
killed. His own tent, also, his money, and all his private effects and
furniture, were captured. These, however, Ptolemy sent back, together
with his friends, accompanying them with the humane and courteous
message, that they were not fighting for anything else but honor and
dominion. Demetrius accepted the gift, praying only to the gods not to
leave him long in Ptolemy's debt, but to let him have an early chance
of doing the like to him. He took his disaster, also, with the temper
not of a boy defeated in his attempt, but of an old and long-tried
general, familiar with reverse of fortune; he busied himself in
collecting his men, replenishing his magazines, watching the allegiance
of the cities, and drilling his new recruits.
Antigonus received the news of the battle with the remark, that Ptolemy
had beaten boys, and would now have to fight with men. But not to
humble the spirit of his son, he acceded to his request, and left him
to command on the next occasion.
Not long after, Cilles, Ptolemy's lieutenant, with a powerful army,
took the field, and, looking upon Demetrius as already defeated by the
previous battle, he had in his imagination driven him out of Syria
before he saw him. But he quickly found himself deceived; for Demetrius
came so unexpectedly upon him that he surprised both the general and
his army, making him and seven thousand of the soldiers prisoners of
war, and possessing himself of a large amount of treasure. But his joy
in the victory was not so much for the prizes he should keep, as for
those he could restore; and his thankfulness was less for the wealth
and glory than for the means it gave him of requiting his enemy's
former generosity. He did not, however, take it into his own hands, but
wrote to his father. And on receiving leave to do as he liked, he sent
back to Ptolemy Cilles and his friends, loaded with presents. This
defeat drove Ptolemy out of Syria, and brought Antigonus from Celaenae,
to enjoy the victory, and the sight of the son who had gained it.
Soon after, Demetrius was sent to bring the Nabathaean Arabs into
obedience. And here he got into a district without water, and incurred
considerable danger, but by his resolute and composed demeanor he
overawed the barbarians, and returned after receiving from them a large
amount of booty, and seven hundred camels. Not long after, Seleucus,
whom Antigonus had formerly chased out of Babylon, but who had
afterwards recovered his dominion by his own efforts and maintained
himself in it, went with large forces on an expedition to reduce the
tribes on the confines of India and the provinces near Mount Caucasus.
And Demetrius, conjecturing that he had left Mesopotamia but slenderly
guarded in his absence, suddenly passed the Euphrates with his army,
and made his way into Babylonia unexpectedly; where he succeeded in
capturing one of the two citadels, out of which he expelled the
garrison of Seleucus, and placed in it seven thousand men of his own.
And after allowing his soldiers to enrich themselves with all the spoil
they could carry with them out of the country, he retired to the sea,
leaving Seleucus more securely master of his dominions than before, as
he seemed by this conduct to abandon every claim to a country which he
treated like an enemy's. However, by a rapid advance, he rescued
Halicarnassus from Ptolemy, who was besieging it. The glory which this
act obtained them inspired both the father and son with a wonderful
desire for freeing Greece, which Cassander and Ptolemy had everywhere
reduced to slavery. No nobler or juster war was undertaken by any of
the kings; the wealth they had gained while humbling, with Greek
assistance, the barbarians being thus employed, for honor's sake and
good repute, in helping the Greeks. When the resolution was taken to
begin their attempt with Athens, one of his friends told Antigonus, if
they captured Athens, they must keep it safe in their own hands, as by
this gangway they might step out from their ships into Greece when they
pleased. But Antigonus would not hear of it; he did not want a better
or a steadier gangway than people's good-will; and from Athens, the
beacon of the world, the news of their conduct would soon be handed on
to all the world's inhabitants. So Demetrius, with a sum of five
thousand talents, and a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships, set sail
for Athens, where Demetrius the Phalerian was governing the city for
Cassander, with a garrison lodged in the port of Munychia. By good
fortune and skillful management he appeared before Piraeus, on the
twenty-sixth of Thargelion, before anything had been heard of him.
Indeed, when his ships were seen, they were taken for Ptolemy's, and
preparations were commenced for receiving them; till at last, the
generals discovering their mistake, hurried down, and all was alarm and
confusion, and attempts to push forward preparations to oppose the
landing of this hostile force. For Demetrius, having found the
entrances of the port undefended, stood in directly, and was by this
time safely inside, before the eyes of everybody, and made signals from
his ship, requesting a peaceable hearing. And on leave being given, he
caused a herald with a loud voice to make proclamation that he was come
thither by the command of his father, with no other design than what he
prayed the gods to prosper with success, to give the Athenians their
liberty, to expel the garrison, and to restore the ancient laws and
constitution of the country.
The people, hearing this, at once threw down their shields, and,
clapping their hands, with loud acclamations entreated Demetrius to
land, calling him their deliverer and benefactor. And the Phalerian and
his party, who saw that there was nothing for it but to receive the
conqueror, whether he should perform his promises or not, sent,
however, messengers to beg for his protection; to whom Demetrius gave a
kind reception, and sent back with them Aristodemus of Miletus, one of
his father's friends. The Phalerian, under the change of government,
was more afraid of his fellow-citizens than of the enemy; but Demetrius
took precautions for him, and, out of respect for his reputation and
character, sent him with a safe conduct to Thebes, whither he desired
to go. For himself, he declared he would not, in spite of all his
curiosity, put his foot in the city, till he had completed its
deliverance by driving out the garrison. So, blockading Munychia with a
palisade and trench, he sailed off to attack Megara, where also there
was one of Cassander's garrisons. But, hearing that Cratesipolis, the
wife of Alexander son of Polysperchon, who was famous for her beauty,
was well disposed to see him, he left his troops near Megara, and set
out with a few light-armed attendants for Patrae, where she was now
staying. And, quitting these also, he pitched his tent apart from
everybody, that the woman might pay her visit without being seen. This
some of the enemy perceived, and suddenly attacked him; and, in his
alarm, he was obliged to disguise himself in a shabby cloak, and run
for it, narrowly escaping the shame of being made a prisoner, in reward
for his foolish passion. And as it was, his tent and money were taken.
Megara, however, surrendered, and would have been pillaged by the
soldiers, but for the urgent intercession of the Athenians. The
garrison was driven out, and the city restored to independence. While
he was occupied in this, he remembered that Stilpo, the philosopher,
famous for his choice of a life of tranquillity, was residing here. He,
therefore, sent for him, and begged to know whether anything belonging
to him had been taken. "No," replied Stilpo, "I have not met with
anyone to take away knowledge." Pretty nearly all the servants in the
city had been stolen away; and so, when Demetrius, renewing his
courtesies to Stilpo, on taking leave of him, said, "I leave your city,
Stilpo, a city of freemen," "certainly," replied Stilpo, "there is not
one serving man left among us all."
Returning from Megara, he sat down before the citadel of Munychia,
which in a few days he took by assault, and caused the fortifications
to be demolished; and thus having accomplished his design, upon the
request and invitation of the Athenians he made his entrance into the
upper city, where, causing the people to be summoned, he publicly
announced to them that their ancient constitution was restored, and
that they should receive from his father, Antigonus, a present of one
hundred and fifty thousand measures of wheat, and such a supply of
timber as would enable them to build a hundred galleys. In this manner
did the Athenians recover their popular institutions, after the space
of fifteen years from the time of the war of Lamia and the battle
before Cranon, during which interval of time the government had been
administered nominally as an oligarchy, but really by a single man,
Demetrius the Phalerian being so powerful. But the excessive honors
which the Athenians bestowed, for these noble and generous acts, upon
Demetrius, created offense and disgust. The Athenians were the first
who gave Antigonus and Demetrius the title of kings, which hitherto
they had made it a point of piety to decline, as the one remaining
royal honor still reserved for the lineal descendants of Philip and
Alexander, in which none but they could venture to participate. Another
name which they received from no people but the Athenians was that of
the Tutelar Deities and Deliverers. And to enhance this flattery, by a
common vote it was decreed to change the style of the city, and not to
have the years named any longer from the annual archon; a priest of the
two Tutelary Divinities, who was to be yearly chosen, was to have this
honor, and all public acts and instruments were to bear their date by
his name. They decreed, also, that the figures of Antigonus and
Demetrius should be woven, with those of the gods, into the pattern of
the great robe. They consecrated the spot where Demetrius first
alighted from his chariot, and built an altar there, with the name of
the Altar of the Descent of Demetrius. They created two new tribes,
calling them after the names of these princes, the Antigonid and the
Demetriad; and to the Council, which consisted of five hundred persons,
fifty being chosen out of every tribe, they added one hundred more to
represent these new tribes. But the wildest proposal was one made by
Stratocles, the great inventor of all these ingenious and exquisite
compliments, enacting that the members of any deputation that the city
should send to Demetrius or Antigonus should have the same title as
those sent to Delphi or Olympia for the performance of the national
sacrifices in behalf of the state, at the great Greek festivals. This
Stratocles was, in all respects, an audacious and abandoned character,
and seemed to have made it his object to copy, by his buffoonery and
impertinence, Cleon's old familiarity with the people. His mistress,
Phylacion, one day bringing him a dish of brains and neckbones for his
dinner, "Oh," said he, "I am to dine upon the things which we statesmen
play at ball with." At another time, when the Athenians received their
naval defeat near Amorgos, he hastened home before the news could reach
the city, and, having a chaplet on his head, came riding through the
Ceramicus, announcing that they had won a victory, and moved a vote for
thanksgivings to the gods, and a distribution of meat among the people
in their tribes. Presently after came those who brought home the wrecks
from the battle; and when the people exclaimed at what he had done, he
came boldly to face the outcry, and asked what harm there had been in
giving them two days' pleasure.
Such was Stratocles. And, "adding flame to fire," as Aristophanes says,
there was one who, to outdo Stratocles, proposed, that it should be
decreed, that whensoever Demetrius should honor their city with his
presence, they should treat him with the same show of hospitable
entertainment, with which Ceres and Bacchus are received; and the
citizen who exceeded the rest in the splendor and costliness of his
reception should have a sum of money granted him from the public purse
to make a sacred offering. Finally, they changed the name of the month
of Munychion, and called it Demetrion; they gave the name of the
Demetrian to the odd day between the end of the old and the beginning
of the new month; and turned the feast of Bacchus, the Dionysia, into
the Demetria, or feast of Demetrius. Most of these changes were marked
by the divine displeasure. The sacred robe, in which, according to
their decree, the figures of Demetrius and Antigonus had been woven
with those of Jupiter and Minerva, was caught by a violent gust of
wind, while the procession was conveying it through the Ceramicus, and
was torn from the top to the bottom. A crop of hemlock, a plant which
scarcely grew anywhere, even in the country thereabout, sprang up in
abundance round the altars which they had erected to these new
divinities. They had to omit the solemn procession at the feast of
Bacchus, as upon the very day of its celebration there was such a
severe and rigorous frost, coming quite out of its time, that not only
the vines and fig-trees were killed, but almost all the wheat was
destroyed in the blade. Accordingly, Philippides, an enemy to
Stratocles, attacked him in a comedy, in the following verses: --
He for whom frosts that nipped your vines were sent,
And for whose sins the holy robe was rent,
Who grants to men the gods' own honors, he,
Not the poor stage, is now the people's enemy.
Philippides was a great favorite with king Lysimachus, from whom the
Athenians received, for his sake, a variety of kindnesses. Lysimachus
went so far as to think it a happy omen to meet or see Philippides at
the outset of any enterprise or expedition. And, in general, he was
well thought of for his own character, as a plain, uninterfering
person, with none of the officious, self-important habits of a court.
Once, when Lysimachus was solicitous to show him kindness, and asked
what he had that he could make him a present of, "Anything," replied
Philippides, "but your state secrets." The stage-player, we thought,
deserved a place in our narrative quite as well as the public speaker.
But that which exceeded all the former follies and flatteries, was the
proposal of Dromoclides of Sphettus; who, when there was a debate about
sending to the Delphic Oracle to inquire the proper course for the
consecration of certain bucklers, moved in the assembly that they
should rather send to receive an oracle from Demetrius. I will
transcribe the very words of the order, which was in these terms: "May
it be happy and propitious. The people of Athens have decreed, that a
fit person shall be chosen among the Athenian citizens, who shall be
deputed to be sent to the Deliverer; and after he hath duly performed
the sacrifices, shall inquire of the Deliverer, in what most religious
and decent manner he will please to direct, at the earliest possible
time, the consecration of the bucklers; and according to the answer the
people shall act." With this befooling they completed the perversion of
a mind which even before was not so strong or sound as it should have
been.
During his present leisure in Athens, he took to wife Eurydice, a
descendant of the ancient Miltiades, who had been married to Opheltas,
the ruler of Cyrene, and after his death had come back to Athens. The
Athenians took the marriage as a compliment and favor to the city. But
Demetrius was very free in these matters, and was the husband of
several wives at once; the highest place and honor among all being
retained by Phila, who was Antipater's daughter, and had been the wife
of Craterus, the one of all the successors of Alexander who left behind
him the strongest feelings of attachment among the Macedonians. And for
these reasons Antigonus had obliged him to marry her, notwithstanding
the disparity of their years, Demetrius being quite a youth, and she
much older; and when upon that account he made some difficulty in
complying, Antigonus whispered in his ear the maxim from Euripides,
broadly substituting a new word for the original, serve, --
Natural or not,
A man must wed where profit will be got.
Any respect, however, which he showed either to Phila or to his other
wives did not go so far as to prevent him from consorting with any
number of mistresses, and bearing, in this respect, the worst character
of all the princes of his time.
A summons now arrived from his father, ordering him to go and fight
with Ptolemy in Cyprus, which he was obliged to obey, sorry as he was
to abandon Greece. And in quitting this nobler and more glorious
enterprise, he sent to Cleonides, Ptolemy's general, who was holding
garrisons in Sicyon and Corinth, offering him money to let the cities
be independent. But on his refusal, he set sail hastily, taking
additional forces with him, and made for Cyprus; where, immediately
upon his arrival, he fell upon Menelaus, the brother of Ptolemy, and
gave him a defeat. But when Ptolemy himself came in person, with large
forces both on land and sea, for some little time nothing took place
beyond an interchange of menaces and lofty talk. Ptolemy bade Demetrius
sail off before the whole armament came up, if he did not wish to be
trampled under foot; and Demetrius offered to let him retire, on
condition of his withdrawing his garrisons from Sicyon and Corinth. And
not they alone, but all the other potentates and princes of the time,
were in anxiety for the uncertain impending issue of the conflict; as
it seemed evident, that the conqueror's prize would be, not Cyprus or
Syria, but the absolute supremacy.
Ptolemy had brought a hundred and fifty galleys with him, and gave
orders to Menelaus to sally, in the heat of the battle, out of the
harbor of Salamis, and attack with sixty ships the rear of Demetrius.
Demetrius, however, opposing to these sixty ten of his galleys, which
were a sufficient number to block up the narrow entrance of the harbor,
and drawing out his land forces along all the headlands running out
into the sea, went into action with a hundred and eighty galleys, and,
attacking with the utmost boldness and impetuosity, utterly routed
Ptolemy, who fled with eight ships, the sole remnant of his fleet,
seventy having been taken with all their men, and the rest destroyed in
the battle; while the whole multitude of attendants, friends, and
women, that had followed in the ships of burden, all the arms,
treasure, and military engines fell, without exception, into the hands
of Demetrius, and were by him collected and brought into the camp.
Among the prisoners was the celebrated Lamia, famed at one time for her
skill on the flute, and afterwards renowned as a mistress. And although
now upon the wane of her youthful beauty, and though Demetrius was much
her junior, she exercised over him so great a charm, that all other
women seemed to be amorous of Demetrius, but Demetrius amorous only of
Lamia. After this signal victory, Demetrius came before Salamis; and
Menelaus, unable to make any resistance, surrendered himself and all
his fleet, twelve hundred horse, and twelve thousand foot, together
with the place. But that which added more than all to the glory and
splendor of the success was the humane and generous conduct of
Demetrius to the vanquished. For, after he had given honorable funerals
to the dead, he bestowed liberty upon the living; and that he might not
forget the Athenians, he sent them, as a present, complete arms for
twelve hundred men.
To carry this happy news, Aristodemus of Miletus, the most perfect
flatterer belonging to the court, was dispatched to Antigonus; and he,
to enhance the welcome message, was resolved, it would appear, to make
his most successful effort. When he crossed from Cyprus, he bade the
galley which conveyed him come to anchor off the land; and, having
ordered all the ship's crew to remain aboard, he took the boat, and was
set ashore alone. Thus he proceeded to Antigonus, who, one may well
imagine, was in suspense enough about the issue, and suffered all the
anxieties natural to men engaged in so perilous a struggle. And when he
heard that Aristodemus was coming alone, it put him into yet greater
trouble; he could scarcely forbear from going out to meet him himself;
he sent messenger on messenger, and friend after friend, to inquire
what news. But Aristodemus, walking gravely and with a settled
countenance, without making any answer, still proceeded quietly onward;
until Antigonus, quite alarmed and no longer able to refrain, got up
and met him at the gate, whither he came with a crowd of anxious
followers now collected and running after him. As soon as he saw
Antigonus within hearing, stretching out his hands, he accosted him
with the loud exclamation, "Hail, king Antigonus! we have defeated
Ptolemy by sea, and have taken Cyprus and sixteen thousand eight
hundred prisoners." "Welcome, Aristodemus," replied Antigonus, "but, as
you chose to torture us so long for your good news, you may wait awhile
for the reward of it."
Upon this the people around gave Antigonus and Demetrius, for the first
time, the title of kings. His friends at once set a diadem on the head
of Antigonus; and he sent one presently to his son, with a letter
addressed to him as King Demetrius. And when this news was told in
Egypt, that they might not seem to be dejected with the late defeat,
Ptolemy's followers also took occasion to bestow the style of king upon
him; and the rest of the successors of Alexander were quick to follow
the example. Lysimachus began to wear the diadem; and Seleucus, who had
before received the name in all addresses from the barbarians, now also
took it upon him in all business with the Greeks. Cassander still
retained his usual superscription in his letters, but others, both in
writing and speaking, gave him the royal title. Nor was this the mere
accession of a name, or introduction of a new fashion. The men's own
sentiments about themselves were disturbed, and their feelings
elevated; a spirit of pomp and arrogance passed into their habits of
life and conversation, as a tragic actor on the stage modifies, with a
change of dress, his step, his voice, his motions in sitting down, his
manner in addressing another. The punishments they inflicted were more
violent after they had thus laid aside that modest style under which
they formerly dissembled their power, and the influence of which had
often made them gentler and less exacting to their subjects. A single
pattering voice effected a revolution in the world.
Antigonus, extremely elevated with the success of his arms in Cyprus
under the conduct of Demetrius, resolved to push on his good fortune,
and to lead his forces in person against Ptolemy by land, whilst
Demetrius should coast with a great fleet along the shore, to assist
him by sea. The issue of the contest was intimated in a dream which
Medius, a friend to Antigonus, had at this time in his sleep. He
thought he saw Antigonus and his whole army running, as if it had been
a race; that, in the first part of the course, he went off showing
great strength and speed; gradually, however, his pace slackened; and
at the end he saw him come lagging up, tired and almost breathless and
quite spent. Antigonus himself met with many difficulties by land; and
Demetrius, encountering a great storm at sea, was driven, with the loss
of many or his ships, upon a dangerous coast without a harbor. So the
expedition returned without effecting anything. Antigonus, now nearly
eighty years old, was no longer well able to go through the fatigues of
a marching campaign, though rather on account of his great size and
corpulence than from loss of strength; and for this reason he left
things to his son, whose fortune and experience appeared sufficient for
all undertakings, and whose luxury and expense and revelry gave him no
concern. For though in peace he vented himself in his pleasures, and,
when there was nothing to do, ran headlong into any excesses, in war he
was as sober and abstemious as the most temperate character. The story
is told, that once, after Lamia had gained open supremacy over him, the
old man, when Demetrius coming home from abroad began to kiss him with
unusual warmth, asked him if he took him for Lamia. At another time,
Demetrius, after spending several days in a debauch, excused himself
for his absence, by saying he had had a violent flux. "So I heard,"
replied Antigonus; "was it of Thasian wine, or Chian?" Once he was told
his son was ill, and went to see him. At the door he met some young
beauty. Going in, he sat down by the bed and took his pulse. "The
fever," said Demetrius, "has just left me." "O yes," replied the
father, "I met it going out at the door." Demetrius's great actions
made Antigonus treat him thus easily. The Scythians in their
drinking-bouts twang their bows, to keep their courage awake amidst the
dreams of indulgence; but he would resign his whole being, now, to
pleasure, and now to action; and though he never let thoughts of the
one intrude upon the pursuit of the other, yet, when the time came for
preparing for war, he showed as much capacity as any man.
And indeed his ability displayed itself even more in preparing for,
than in conducting a war. He thought he could never be too well
supplied for every possible occasion, and took a pleasure, not to be
satiated, in great improvements in ship-building and machines. He did
not waste his natural genius and power of mechanical research on toys
and idle fancies, turning, painting, and playing on the flute, like
some kings, Aeropus, for example, king of Macedon, who spent his days
in making small lamps and tables; or Attalus Philometor, whose
amusement was to cultivate poisons, henbane and hellebore, and even
hemlock, aconite, and dorycnium, which he used to sow himself in the
royal gardens, and made it his business to gather the fruits and
collect the juices in their season. The Parthian kings took a pride in
whetting and sharpening with their own hands the points of their arrows
and javelins. But when Demetrius played the workman, it was like a
king, and there was magnificence in his handicraft. The articles he
produced bore marks upon the face of them not of ingenuity only, but of
a great mind and a lofty purpose. They were such as a king might not
only design and pay for, but use his own hands to make; and while
friends might be terrified with their greatness, enemies could be
charmed with their beauty; a phrase which is not so pretty to the ear
as it is true to the fact. The very people against whom they were to be
employed could not forbear running to gaze with admiration upon his
galleys of five and six ranges of oars, as they passed along their
coasts; and the inhabitants of besieged cities came on their walls to
see the spectacle of his famous City-takers. Even Lysimachus, of all
the kings of his time the greatest enemy of Demetrius, coming to raise
the siege of Soli in Cilicia, sent first to desire permission to see
his galleys and engines, and, having had his curiosity gratified by a
view of them, expressed his admiration and quitted the place. The
Rhodians, also, whom he long besieged, begged him, when they concluded
a peace, to let them have some of his engines, which they might
preserve as a memorial at once of his power and of their own brave
resistance.
The quarrel between him and the Rhodians was on account of their being
allies to Ptolemy, and in the siege the greatest of all the engines was
planted against their walls. The base of it was exactly square, each
side containing twenty-four cubits; it rose to a height of thirty-three
cubits, growing narrower from the base to the top. Within were several
apartments or chambers, which were to be filled with armed men, and in
every story the front towards the enemy had windows for discharging
missiles of all sorts, the whole being filled with soldiers for every
description of fighting. And what was most wonderful was that,
notwithstanding its size, when it was moved it never tottered or
inclined to one side, but went forward on its base in perfect
equilibrium, with a loud noise and great impetus, astounding the minds,
and yet at the same time charming the eyes of all the beholders.
Whilst Demetrius was at this same siege, there were brought to him two
iron cuirasses from Cyprus, weighing each of them no more than forty
pounds, and Zoilus, who had forged them, to show the excellence of
their temper, desired that one of them might be tried with a catapult
missile, shot out of one of the engines at no greater distance than six
and twenty paces; and, upon the experiment, it was found, that though
the dart exactly hit the cuirass, yet it made no greater impression
than such a slight scratch as might be made with the point of a style
or graver. Demetrius took this for his own wearing, and gave the other
to Alcimus the Epirot, the best soldier and strongest man of all his
captains, the only one who used to wear armor to the weight of two
talents, one talent being the weight which others thought sufficient.
He fell during this siege in a battle near the theater.
The Rhodians made a brave defense, insomuch that Demetrius saw he was
making but little progress, and only persisted out of obstinacy and
passion; and the rather because the Rhodians, having captured a ship in
which some clothes and furniture, with letters from herself; were
coming to him from Phila his wife, had sent on everything to Ptolemy,
and had not copied the honorable example of the Athenians, who, having
surprised an express sent from king Philip, their enemy, opened all the
letters he was charged with, excepting only those directed to queen
Olympias, which they returned with the seal unbroken. Yet, although
greatly provoked, Demetrius, into whose power it shortly after came to
repay the affront, would not suffer himself to retaliate. Protogenes
the Caunian had been making them a painting of the story of Ialysus,
which was all but completed, when it was taken by Demetrius in one of
the suburbs. The Rhodians sent a herald begging him to be pleased to
spare the work and not let it be destroyed; Demetrius's answer to which
was that he would rather burn the pictures of his father than a piece
of art which had cost so much labor. It is said to have taken
Protogenes seven years to paint, and they tell us that Apelles, when he
first saw it, was struck dumb with wonder, and called it, on recovering
his speech, "a great labor and a wonderful success," adding, however,
that it had not the graces which carried his own paintings as it were
up to the heavens. This picture, which came with the rest in the
general mass to Rome, there perished by fire.
While the Rhodians were thus defending their city to the uttermost,
Demetrius, who was not sorry for an excuse to retire, found one in the
arrival of ambassadors from Athens, by whose mediation terms were made
that the Rhodians should bind themselves to aid Antigonus and Demetrius
against all enemies, Ptolemy excepted.
The Athenians entreated his help against Cassander, who was besieging
the city. So he went thither with a fleet of three hundred and thirty
ships, and many soldiers; and not only drove Cassander out of Attica,
but pursued him as far as Thermopylae, routed him, and became master of
Heraclea, which came over to him voluntarily, and of a body of six
thousand Macedonians, which also joined him. Returning hence, he gave
their liberty to all the Greeks on this side Thermopylae, and made
alliance with the Boeotians, took Cenchreae, and reducing the
fortresses of Phyle and Panactum, in which were garrisons of Cassander,
restored them to the Athenians. They, in requital, though they had
before been so profuse in bestowing honors upon him, that one would
have thought they had exhausted all the capacities of invention, showed
they had still new refinements of adulation to devise for him. They
gave him, as his lodging, the back temple in the Parthenon, and here he
lived, under the immediate roof, as they meant it to imply, of his
hostess, Minerva; no reputable or well-conducted guest to be quartered
upon a maiden goddess. When his brother Philip was once put into a
house where three young women were living, Antigonus saying nothing to
him, sent for his quartermaster, and told him, in the young man's
presence, to find some less crowded lodgings for him.
Demetrius, however, who should, to say the least, have paid the goddess
the respect due to an elder sister, for that was the purport of the
city's compliment, filled the temple with such pollutions that the
place seemed least profaned when his license confined itself to common
women like Chrysis, Lamia, Demo, and Anticyra.
The fair name of the city forbids any further plain particulars; let us
only record the severe virtue of the young Damocles, surnamed, and by
that surname pointed out to Demetrius, the beautiful; who, to escape
importunities, avoided every place of resort, and when at last followed
into a private bathing room by Demetrius, seeing none at hand to help
or deliver, seized the lid from the cauldron, and, plunging into the
boiling water, sought a death untimely and unmerited, but worthy of the
country and of the beauty that occasioned it. Not so Cleaenetus, the
son of Cleomedon, who, to obtain from Demetrius a letter of
intercession to the people in behalf of his father, lately condemned in
a fine of fifty talents, disgraced himself, and got the city into
trouble. In deference to the letter, they remitted the fine, yet they
made an edict prohibiting any citizen for the future to bring letters
from Demetrius. But being informed that Demetrius resented this as a
great indignity, they not only rescinded in alarm the former order, but
put some of the proposers and advisers of it to death and banished
others, and furthermore enacted and decreed, that whatsoever king
Demetrius should in time to come ordain, should be accounted right
towards the gods and just towards men; and when one of the better class
of citizens said Stratocles must be mad to use such words, Demochares
of Leuconoe observed, he would be a fool not to be mad. For Stratocles
was well rewarded for his flatteries; and the saying was remembered
against Demochares, who was soon after sent into banishment. So fared
the Athenians, after being relieved of the foreign garrison, and
recovering what was called their liberty.
After this Demetrius marched with his forces into Peloponnesus, where
he met with none to oppose him, his enemies flying before him, and
allowing the cities to join him. He received into friendship all Acte,
as it is called, and all Arcadia except Mantinea. He bought the liberty
of Argos, Corinth, and Sicyon, by paying a hundred talents to their
garrisons to evacuate them. At Argos, during the feast of Juno, which
happened at the time, he presided at the games, and, joining in the
festivities with the multitude of the Greeks assembled there, he
celebrated his marriage with Deidamia, daughter of Aeacides, king of
the Molossians, and sister of Pyrrhus. At Sicyon he told the people
they had put the city just outside of the city, and, persuading them to
remove to where they now live, gave their town not only a new site but
a new name, Demetrias, after himself. A general assembly met on the
Isthmus, where he was proclaimed, by a great concourse of people, the
Commander of Greece, like Philip and Alexander of old; whose superior
he, in the present height of his prosperity and power, was willing
enough to consider himself; and, certainly, in one respect he outdid
Alexander, who never refused their title to other kings, or took on
himself the style of king of kings, though many kings received both
their title and their authority as such from him; whereas Demetrius
used to ridicule those who gave the name of king to any except himself
and his father; and in his entertainments was well pleased when his
followers, after drinking to him and his father as kings, went on to
drink the health of Seleucus, with the title of Master of the
Elephants; of Ptolemy, by the name of High Admiral; of Lysimachus, with
the addition of Treasurer; and of Agathocles, with the style of
Governor of the Island of Sicily. The other kings merely laughed when
they were told of this vanity; Lysimachus alone expressed some
indignation at being considered a eunuch; such being usually then
selected for the office of treasurer. And, in general, there was a more
bitter enmity between him and Lysimachus than with any of the others.
Once, as a scoff at his passion for Lamia, Lysimachus said he had never
before seen a courtesan act a queen's part; to which Demetrius rejoined
that his mistress was quite as honest us Lysimachus's own Penelope.
But to proceed. Demetrius being about to return to Athens, signified by
letter to the city that he desired immediate admission to the rites of
initiation into the Mysteries, and wished to go through all the stages
of the ceremony, from first to last, without delay. This was absolutely
contrary to the rules, and a thing which had never been allowed before;
for the lesser mysteries were celebrated in the month of Anthesterion,
and the great solemnity in Boedromion, and none of the novices were
finally admitted till they had completed a year after this latter. Yet
all this notwithstanding, when in the public assembly these letters of
Demetrius were produced and read, there was not one single person who
had the courage to oppose them, except Pythodorus, the torch-bearer.
But it signified nothing, for Stratocles at once proposed that the
month of Munychion, then current, should by edict be reputed to be the
month of Anthesterion; which being voted and done, and Demetrius
thereby admitted to the lesser ceremonies, by another vote they turned
the same month of Munychion into the other month of Boedromion; the
celebration of the greater mysteries ensued, and Demetrius was fully
admitted. These proceedings gave the comedian, Philippides, a new
occasion to exercise his wit upon Stratocles,
whose flattering fear
Into one month hath crowded all the year.
And on the vote that Demetrius should lodge in the Parthenon,
Who turns the temple to a common inn,
And makes the Virgin's house a house of sin.
Of all the disreputable and flagitious acts of which he was guilty in
this visit, one that particularly hurt the feelings of the Athenians
was that, having given comment that they should forthwith raise for his
service two hundred and fifty talents, and they to comply with his
demands being forced to levy it upon the people with the utmost rigor
and severity, when they presented him with the money, which they had
with such difficulty raised, as if it were a trifling sum, he ordered
it to be given to Lamia and the rest of his women, to buy soap. The
loss, which was bad enough, was less galling than the shame, and the
words more intolerable than the act which they accompanied. Though,
indeed, the story is variously reported; and some say it was the
Thessalians, and not the Athenians, who were thus treated. Lamia,
however, exacted contributions herself to pay for an entertainment she
gave to the king, and her banquet was so renowned for its sumptuosity,
that a description of it was drawn up by the Samian writer, Lynceus.
Upon this occasion, one of the comic writers gave Lamia the name of the
real Helepolis; and Demochares of Soli called Demetrius Mythus, because
the fable always has its Lamia, and so had he.
And, in truth, his passion for this woman and the prosperity in which
she lived were such as to draw upon him not only the envy and jealousy
of all his wives, but the animosity even of his friends. For example,
on Lysimachus's showing to some ambassadors from Demetrius the scars of
the wounds which he had received upon his thighs and arms by the paws
of the lion with which Alexander had shut him up, after hearing his
account of the combat, they smiled and answered, that their king, also,
was not without his scars, but could show upon his neck the marks of a
Lamia, a no less dangerous beast. It was also matter of wonder that,
though he had objected so much to Phila on account of her age, he was
yet such a slave to Lamia, who was so long past her prime. One evening
at supper, when she played the flute, Demetrius asked Demo, whom the
men called Madness, what she thought of her. Demo answered she thought
her an old woman. And when a quantity of sweetmeats were brought in,
and the king said again, "See what presents I get from Lamia!" "My old
mother," answered Demo, "will send you more, if you will make her your
mistress." Another story is told of a criticism passed by Lamia or the
famous judgment of Bocchoris. A young Egyptian had long made suit to
Thonis, the courtesan, offering a sum of gold for her favor. But before
it came to pass, he dreamed one night that he had obtained it, and,
satisfied with the shadow, felt no more desire for the substance.
Thonis upon this brought an action for the sum. Bocchoris, the judge,
on hearing the case, ordered the defendant to bring into court the full
amount in a vessel, which he was to move to and fro in his hand, and
the shadow of it was to be adjudged to Thonis. The fairness of this
sentence Lamia contested, saying the young man's desire might have been
satisfied with the dream, but Thonis's desire for the money could not
be relieved by the shadow. Thus much for Lamia.
And now the story passes from the comic to the tragic stage in pursuit
of the acts and fortunes of its subject. A general league of the kings,
who were now gathering and combining their forces to attack Antigonus,
recalled Demetrius from Greece. He was encouraged by finding his father
full of a spirit and resolution for the combat that belied his years.
Yet it would seem to be true, that if Antigonus could only have borne
to make some trifling concessions, and if he had shown any moderation
in his passion for empire, he might have maintained for himself till
his death, and left to his son behind him, the first place among the
kings. But he was of a violent and haughty spirit; and the insulting
words as well as actions in which he allowed himself could not be borne
by young and powerful princes, and provoked them into combining against
him. Though now when he was told of the confederacy, he could not
forbear from saying that this flock of birds would soon be scattered by
one stone and a single shout. He took the field at the head of more
than seventy thousand foot, and of ten thousand horse, and seventy-five
elephants. His enemies had sixty-four thousand foot, five hundred more
horse than he, elephants to the number of four hundred, and a hundred
and twenty chariots. On their near approach to each other, an
alteration began to be observable, not in the purposes, but in the
presentiments of Antigonus. For whereas in all former campaigns he had
ever shown himself lofty and confident, loud in voice and scornful in
speech, often by some joke or mockery on the eve of battle expressing
his contempt and displaying his composure, he was now remarked to be
thoughtful, silent, and retired. He presented Demetrius to the army,
and declared him his successor; and what everyone thought stranger than
all was that he now conferred alone in his tent with Demetrius, whereas
in former time he had never entered into any secret consultations even
with him; but had always followed his own advice, made his resolutions,
and then given out his commands. Once when Demetrius was a boy and
asked him how soon the army would move, he is said to have answered him
sharply, "Are you afraid lest you, of all the army, should not hear the
trumpet?"
There were now, however, inauspicious signs, which affected his
spirits. Demetrius, in a dream, had seen Alexander, completely armed,
appear and demand of him what word they intended to give in the time of
the battle; and Demetrius answering that he intended the word should be
"Jupiter and Victory." "Then," said Alexander, "I will go to your
adversaries and find my welcome with them." And on the morning of the
combat, as the armies were drawing up, Antigonus, going out of the door
of his tent, by some accident or other, stumbled and fell flat upon the
ground, hurting himself a good deal. And on recovering his feet,
lifting up his hands to heaven, he prayed the gods to grant him "either
victory, or death without knowledge of defeat." When the armies
engaged, Demetrius, who commanded the greatest and best part of the
cavalry, made a charge on Antiochus, the son of Seleucus, and,
gloriously routing the enemy, followed the pursuit, in the pride and
exultation of success, so eagerly, and so unwisely far, that it fatally
lost him the day, for when, perceiving his error, he would have come in
to the assistance of his own infantry, he was not able, the enemy with
their elephants having cut off his retreat. And on the other hand,
Seleucus, observing the main battle of Antigonus left naked of their
horse, did not charge, but made a show of charging; and keeping them in
alarm and wheeling about and still threatening an attack, he gave
opportunity for those who wished it to separate and come over to him;
which a large body of them did, the rest taking to flight. But the old
king Antigonus still kept his post, and when a strong body of the
enemies drew up to charge him, and one of those about him cried out to
him, "Sir, they are coming upon you," he only replied, "What else
should they do? but Demetrius will come to my rescue." And in this hope
he persisted to the last, looking out on every side for his son's
approach, until he was borne down by a whole multitude of darts, and
fell. His other followers and friends fled, and Thorax of Larissa
remained alone by the body.
The battle having been thus decided, the kings who had gained the
victory, carving up the whole vast empire that had belonged to
Demetrius and Antigonus, like a carcass, into so many portions, added
these new gains to their former possessions. As for Demetrius, with
five thousand foot and four thousand horse, he fled at his utmost speed
to Ephesus, where it was the common opinion he would seize the
treasures of the temple to relieve his wants; but he, on the contrary,
fearing such an attempt on the part of his soldiers, hastened away, and
sailed for Greece, his chief remaining hopes being placed in the
fidelity of the Athenians, with whom he had left part of his navy and
of his treasure and his wife Deidamia. And in their attachment he had
not the least doubt but he should in this his extremity find a safe
resource. Accordingly when, upon reaching the Cyclades, he was met by
ambassadors from Athens, requesting him not to proceed to the city, as
the people had passed a vote to admit no king whatever within their
walls, and had conveyed Deidamia with honorable attendance to Megara,
his anger and surprise overpowered him, and the constancy quite failed
him which he had hitherto shown in a wonderful degree under his
reverses, nothing humiliating or mean-spirited having as yet been seen
in him under all his misfortunes. But to be thus disappointed in the
Athenians, and to find the friendship he had trusted prove, upon trial,
thus empty and unreal, was a great pang to him. And, in truth, an
excessive display of outward honor would seem to be the most uncertain
attestation of the real affection of a people for any king or
potentate. Such shows lose their whole credit as tokens of affection
(which has its virtue in the feelings and moral choice), when we
reflect that they may equally proceed from fear. The same decrees are
voted upon the latter motive as upon the former. And therefore
judicious men do not look so much to statues, paintings, or divine
honors that are paid them, as to their own actions and conduct, judging
hence whether they shall trust these as a genuine, or discredit them as
a forced homage. As in fact nothing is less unusual than for a people,
even while offering compliments, to be disgusted with those who accept
them greedily, or arrogantly, or without respect to the freewill of the
givers.
Demetrius, shamefully used as he thought himself, was in no condition
to revenge the affront. He returned a message of gentle expostulation,
saying, however, that he expected to have his galleys sent to him,
among which was that of thirteen banks of oars. And this being accorded
him, he sailed to the Isthmus, and, finding his affairs in very ill
condition, his garrisons expelled, and a general secession going on to
the enemy, he left Pyrrhus to attend to Greece, and took his course to
the Chersonesus, where he ravaged the territories of Lysimachus, and,
by the booty which he took, maintained and kept together his troops,
which were now once more beginning to recover and to show some
considerable front. Nor did any of the other princes care to meddle
with him on that side; for Lysimachus had quite as little claim to be
loved, and was more to be feared for his power. But, not long after,
Seleucus sent to treat with Demetrius for a marriage betwixt himself
and Stratonice, daughter of Demetrius by Phila. Seleucus, indeed, had
already, by Apama the Persian, a son named Antiochus, but he was
possessed of territories that might well satisfy more than one
successor, and he was the rather induced to this alliance with
Demetrius, because Lysimachus had just married himself to one daughter
of king Ptolemy, and his son Agathocles to another. Demetrius, who
looked upon the offer as an unexpected piece of good fortune, presently
embarked with his daughter, and with his whole fleet sailed for Syria.
Having during his voyage to touch several times on the coast, among
other places he landed in part of Cilicia, which, by the apportionment
of the kings after the defeat of Antigonus, was allotted to
Plistarchus, the brother of Cassander. Plistarchus, who took this
descent of Demetrius upon his coasts as an infraction of his rights,
and was not sorry to have something to complain of hastened away to
expostulate in person with Seleucus for entering separately into
relations with Demetrius, the common enemy, without consulting the
other kings.
Demetrius, receiving information of this, seized the opportunity, and
fell upon the city of Quinda, which he surprised, and took in it twelve
hundred talents, still remaining of the treasure. With this prize, he
hastened back to his galleys, embarked, and set sail. At Rhosus, where
his wife Phila was now with him, he was met by Seleucus, and their
communications with each other at once were put on a frank,
unsuspecting, and kingly footing. First, Seleucus gave a banquet to
Demetrius in his tent in the camp; then Demetrius received him in the
ship of thirteen banks of oars. Meetings for amusements, conferences,
and long visits for general intercourse succeeded, all without
attendants or arms; until at length Seleucus took his leave, and in
great state conducted Stratonice to Antioch. Demetrius meantime
possessed himself of Cilicia, and sent Phila to her brother Cassander,
to answer the complaints of Plistarchus. And here his wife Deidamia
came by sea out of Greece to meet him, but not long after contracted an
illness, of which she died. After her death, Demetrius, by the
mediation of Seleucus, became reconciled to Ptolemy, and an agreement
was made that he should marry his daughter Ptolemais. Thus far all was
handsomely done on the part of Seleucus. But, shortly after, desiring
to have the province of Cilicia from Demetrius for a sum of money, and
being refused it, he then angrily demanded of him the cities of Tyre
and Sidon, which seemed a mere piece of arbitrary dealing, and, indeed,
an outrageous thing, that he, who was possessed of all the vast
provinces between India and the Syrian sea, should think himself so
poorly off as for the sake of two cities, which he coveted, to disturb
the peace of his near connection, already a sufferer under a severe
reverse of fortune. However, he did but justify the saying of Plato,
that the only certain way to be truly rich is not to have more
property, but fewer desires. For whoever is always grasping at more
avows that he is still in want, and must be poor in the midst of
affluence.
But Demetrius, whose courage did not sink, resolutely sent him answer,
that, though he were to lose ten thousand battles like that of Ipsus,
he would pay no price for the good-will of such a son-in-law as
Seleucus. He reinforced these cities with sufficient garrisons to
enable them to make a defense against Seleucus; and, receiving
information that Lachares, taking the opportunity of their civil
dissensions, had set up himself as an usurper over the Athenians, he
imagined that if he made a sudden attempt upon the city, he might now
without difficulty get possession of it. He crossed the sea in safety,
with a large fleet; but, passing along the coast of Attica, was met by
a violent storm, and lost the greater number of his ships, and a very
considerable body of men on board of them. As for him, he escaped, and
began to make war in a petty manner with the Athenians, but finding
himself unable to effect his design, he sent back orders for raising
another fleet, and, with the troops which he had, marched into
Peloponnesus, and laid siege to the city of Messena. In attacking which
place, he was in danger of death; for a missile from an engine struck
him in the face, and passed through the cheek into his mouth. He
recovered, however, and, as soon as he was in a condition to take the
field, won over divers cities which had revolted from him, and made an
incursion into Attica, where he took Eleusis and Rhamnus and wasted the
country thereabout. And that he might straighten the Athenians by
cutting off all manner of provision, a vessel laden with corn bound
thither falling into his hands, he ordered the master and the
supercargo to be immediately hanged, thereby to strike a terror into
others, that so they might not venture to supply the city with
provisions. By which means they were reduced to such extremities, that
a bushel of salt sold for forty drachmas, and a peck of wheat for three
hundred. Ptolemy had sent to their relief a hundred and fifty galleys,
which came so near as to be seen off Aegina; but this brief hope was
soon extinguished by the arrival of three hundred ships, which came to
reinforce Demetrius from Cyprus, Peloponnesus, and other places; upon
which Ptolemy's fleet took to flight, and Lachares, the tyrant, ran
away, leaving the city to its fate.
And now the Athenians, who before had made it capital for any person to
propose a treaty or accommodation with Demetrius, immediately opened
the nearest gates to send ambassadors to him, not so much out of hopes
of obtaining any honorable conditions from his clemency as out of
necessity, to avoid death by famine. For among many frightful instances
of the distress they were reduced to, it is said that a father and son
were sitting in a room together, having abandoned every hope, when a
dead mouse fell from the ceiling; and for this prize they leaped up and
came to blows. In this famine, it is also related, the philosopher
Epicurus saved his own life, and the lives of his scholars, by a small
quantity of beans, which he distributed to them daily by number.
In this condition was the city when Demetrius made his entrance and
issued a proclamation that all the inhabitants should assemble in the
theater; which being done, he drew up his soldiers at the back of the
stage, occupied the stage itself with his guards, and, presently coming
in himself by the actor's passages, when the people's consternation had
risen to its height, with his first words he put an end to it. Without
any harshness of tone or bitterness of words, he reprehended them in a
gentle and friendly way, and declared himself reconciled, adding a
present of a hundred thousand bushels of wheat, and appointing as
magistrates persons acceptable to the people. So Dromoclides the
orator, seeing the people at a loss how to express their gratitude by
any words or acclamations, and ready for anything that would outdo the
verbal encomiums of the public speakers, came forward, and moved a
decree for delivering Piraeus and Munychia into the hands of king
Demetrius. This was passed accordingly, and Demetrius, of his own
motion, added a third garrison, which he placed in the Museum, as a
precaution against any new restiveness on the part of the people, which
might give him the trouble of quitting his other enterprises.
He had not long been master of Athens before he had formed designs
against Lacedaemon; of which Archidamus, the king, being advertised,
came out and met him, but he was overthrown in a battle near Mantinea;
after which Demetrius entered Laconia, and, in a second battle near
Sparta itself, defeated him again with the loss of two hundred
Lacedaemonians slain, and five hundred taken prisoners. And now it was
almost impossible for the city, which hitherto had never been captured,
to escape his arms. But certainly there never was any king upon whom
fortune made such short turns, nor any other life or story so filled
with her swift and surprising changes, over and over again, from small
things to great, from splendor back to humiliation, and from utter
weakness once more to power and might. They say in his sadder
vicissitudes he used sometimes to apostrophize fortune in the words of
Aeschylus --
Thou liftest up, to cast us down again.
And so at this moment, when all things seemed to conspire together to
give him his heart's desire of dominion and power, news arrived that
Lysimachus had taken all his cities in Asia, that Ptolemy had reduced
all Cyprus with the exception of Salamis, and that in Salamis his
mother and children were shut up and close besieged: and yet like the
woman in Archilochus,
Water in one deceitful hand she shows,
While burning fire within her other glows.
The same fortune that drew him off with these disastrous tidings from
Sparta, in a moment after opened upon him a new and wonderful prospect,
of the following kind. Cassander, king of Macedon, dying, and his
eldest son, Philip, who succeeded him, not long surviving his father,
the two younger brothers fell at variance concerning the succession.
And Antipater having murdered his mother Thessalonica, Alexander, the
younger brother, called in to his assistance Pyrrhus out of Epirus, and
Demetrius out of the Peloponnese. Pyrrhus arrived first, and, taking in
recompense for his succor a large slice of Macedonia, had made
Alexander begin to be aware that he had brought upon himself a
dangerous neighbor. And, that he might not run a yet worse hazard from
Demetrius, whose power and reputation were so great, the young man
hurried away to meet him at Dium, whither he, who on receiving his
letter had set out on his march, was now come. And, offering his
greetings and grateful acknowledgments, he at the same time informed
him that his affairs no longer required the presence of his ally, and
thereupon he invited him to supper. There were not wanting some
feelings of suspicion on either side already; and when Demetrius was
now on his way to the banquet, someone came and told him that in the
midst of the drinking he would be killed. Demetrius showed little
concern, but, making only a little less haste, he sent to the principal
officers of his army, commanding them to draw out the soldiers, and
make them stand to their arms, and ordered his retinue (more numerous a
good deal than that of Alexander) to attend him into the very room of
the entertainment, and not to stir from thence till they saw him rise
from the table. Thus Alexander's servants, finding themselves
overpowered, had not courage to attempt anything. And, indeed,
Demetrius gave them no opportunity, for he made a very short visit,
and, pretending to Alexander that he was not at present in health for
drinking wine, left early. And the next day he occupied himself in
preparations for departing, telling Alexander he had received
intelligence that obliged him to leave, and begging him to excuse so
sudden a parting; he would hope to see him further when his affairs
allowed him leisure. Alexander was only too glad, not only that he was
going, but that he was doing so of his own motion, without any offense,
and proposed to accompany him into Thessaly. But when they came to
Larissa, new invitations passed between them, new professions of
good-will, covering new conspiracies; by which Alexander put himself
into the power of Demetrius. For as he did not like to use precautions
on his own part, for fear Demetrius should take the hint to use them on
his, the very thing he meant to do was first done to him. He accepted
an invitation, and came to Demetrius's quarters; and when Demetrius,
while they were still supping, rose from the table and went forth, the
young man rose also, and followed him to the door, where Demetrius, as
he passed through, only said to the guards, "Kill him that follows me,"
and went on; and Alexander was at once dispatched by them, together
with such of his friends as endeavored to come to his rescue, one of
whom, before he died, said, "You have been one day too quick for us."
The night following was one, as may be supposed, of disorder and
confusion. And with the morning, the Macedonians, still in alarm, and
fearful of the forces of Demetrius, on finding no violence offered, but
only a message sent from Demetrius desiring an interview and
opportunity for explanation of his actions, at last began to feel
pretty confident again, and prepared to receive him favorably. And when
he came, there was no need of much being said; their hatred of
Antipater for his murder of his mother, and the absence of anyone
better to govern them, soon decided them to proclaim Demetrius king of
Macedon. And into Macedonia they at once started and took him. And the
Macedonians at home, who had not forgotten or forgiven the wicked deeds
committed by Cassander on the family of Alexander, were far from sorry
at the change. Any kind recollections that still might subsist, of the
plain and simple rule of the first Antipater, went also to the benefit
of Demetrius, whose wife was Phila, his daughter, and his son by her, a
boy already old enough to be serving in the army with his father, was
the natural successor to the government.
To add to this unexpected good fortune, news arrived that Ptolemy had
dismissed his mother and children, bestowing upon them presents and
honors; and also that his daughter Stratonice, whom he had married to
Seleucus, was remarried to Antiochus, the son of Seleucus, and
proclaimed queen of Upper Asia.
For Antiochus, it appears, had fallen passionately in love with
Stratonice, the young queen, who had already made Seleucus the father
of a son. He struggled very hard with the beginnings of this passion,
and at last, resolving with himself that his desires were wholly
unlawful, his malady past all cure, and his powers of reason too feeble
to act, he determined on death, and thought to bring his life slowly to
extinction by neglecting his person and refusing nourishment, under the
pretense of being ill. Erasistratus, the physician who attended him,
quickly perceived that love was his distemper, but the difficulty was
to discover the object. He therefore waited continually in his chamber,
and when any of the beauties of the court made their visits to the sick
prince, he observed the emotions and alterations in the countenance of
Antiochus, and watched for the changes which he knew to be indicative
of the inward passions and inclinations of the soul. He took notice
that the presence of other women produced no effect upon him; but when
Stratonice came, as she often did, alone, or in company with Seleucus,
to see him, he observed in him all Sappho's famous symptoms, his voice
faltered, his face flushed up, his eyes glanced stealthily, a sudden
sweat broke out on his skin, the beatings of his heart were irregular
and violent, and, unable to support the excess of his passion, he would
sink into a state of faintness, prostration, and pallor.
Erasistratus, reasoning upon these symptoms, and, upon the probability
of things, considering that the king's son would hardly, if the object
of his passion had been any other, have persisted to death rather than
reveal it, felt, however, the difficulty of making a discovery of this
nature to Seleucus. But, trusting to the tenderness of Seleucus for the
young man, he put on all the assurance he could, and at last, on some
opportunity, spoke out, and told him the malady was love, a love
impossible to gratify or relieve. The king was extremely surprised, and
asked, "Why impossible to relieve?" "The fact is," replied
Erasistratus, "he is in love with my wife." "How!" said Seleucus, "and
will our friend Erasistratus refuse to bestow his wife upon my son and
only successor, when there is no other way to save his life?" "You,"
replied Erasistratus, "who are his father, would not do so, if he were
in love with Stratonice." "Ah, my friend," answered Seleucus, "would to
heaven any means, human or divine, could but convert his present
passion to that; it would be well for me to part not only with
Stratonice, but with my empire, to save Antiochus." This he said with
the greatest passion, shedding tears as he spoke; upon which
Erasistratus, taking him by the hand, replied, "In that case, you have
no need of Erasistratus; for you, who are the husband, the father, and
the king, are the proper physician for your own family." Seleucus,
accordingly, summoning a general assembly of his people, declared to
them, that he had resolved to make Antiochus king, and Stratonice
queen, of all the provinces of Upper Asia, uniting them in marriage;
telling them, that he thought he had sufficient power over the prince's
will, that he should find in him no repugnance to obey his commands;
and for Stratonice, he hoped all his friends would endeavor to make her
sensible, if she should manifest any reluctance to such a marriage,
that she ought to esteem those things just and honorable which had been
determined upon by the king as necessary to the general good. In this
manner, we are told, was brought about the marriage of Antiochus and
Stratonice.
To return to the affairs of Demetrius. Having obtained the crown of
Macedon, he presently became master of Thessaly also. And, holding the
greatest part of Peloponnesus, and, on this side the Isthmus, the
cities of Megara and Athens, he now turned his arms against the
Boeotians. They at first made overtures for an accommodation; but
Cleonymus of Sparta having ventured with some troops to their
assistance, and having made his way into Thebes, and Pisis, the
Thespian, who was their first man in power and reputation, animating
them to make a brave resistance, they broke off the treaty. No sooner,
however, had Demetrius begun to approach the walls with his engines,
but Cleonymus in affright secretly withdrew; and the Boeotians, finding
themselves abandoned, made their submission. Demetrius placed a
garrison in charge of their towns, and, having raised a large sum of
money from them, he placed Hieronymus, the historian, in the office of
governor and military commander over them, and was thought on the whole
to have shown great clemency, more particularly to Pisis, to whom he
did no hurt, but spoke with him courteously and kindly, and made him
chief magistrate of Thespiae. Not long after, Lysimachus was taken
prisoner by Dromichaetes, and Demetrius went off instantly in the hopes
of possessing himself of Thrace, thus left without a king. Upon this,
the Boeotians revolted again, and news also came that Lysimachus had
regained his liberty. So Demetrius, turning back quickly and in anger,
found on coming up that his son Antigonus had already defeated the
Boeotians in battle, and therefore proceeded to lay siege again to
Thebes.
But, understanding that Pyrrhus had made an incursion into Thessaly,
and that he was advanced as far as Thermopylae, leaving Antigonus to
continue the siege, he marched with the rest of his army to oppose this
enemy. Pyrrhus, however, made a quick retreat. So, leaving ten thousand
foot and a thousand horse for the protection of Thessaly, he returned
to the siege of Thebes, and there brought up his famous City-taker to
the attack, which, however, was so laboriously and so slowly moved on
account of its bulk and heaviness, that in two months it did not
advance two furlongs. In the meantime the citizens made a stout
defense, and Demetrius, out of heat and contentiousness very often,
more than upon any necessity, sent his soldiers into danger; until at
last Antigonus, observing how many men were losing their lives, said to
him, "Why, my father, do we go on letting the men be wasted in this
way, without any need of it?" But Demetrius, in a great passion,
interrupted him: "And you, good sir, why do you afflict yourself for
the matter? will dead men come to you for rations?" But that the
soldiers might see he valued his own life at no dearer rate than
theirs, he exposed himself freely, and was wounded with a javelin
through his neck, which put him into great hazard of his life. But,
notwithstanding, he continued the siege, and in conclusion took the
town again. And after his entrance, when the citizens were in fear and
trembling, and expected all the severities which an incensed conqueror
could indict, he only put to death thirteen, and banished some few
others, pardoning all the rest. Thus the city of Thebes, which had not
yet been ten years restored, in that short space was twice besieged and
taken.
Shortly after, the festival of the Pythian Apollo was to be celebrated,
and the Aetolians having blocked up all the passages to Delphi,
Demetrius held the games and celebrated the feast at Athens, alleging
it was great reason those honors should be paid in that place, Apollo
being the paternal god of the Athenian people, and the reputed first
founder of their race.
From thence Demetrius returned to Macedon, and as he not only was of a
restless temper himself, but saw also that the Macedonians were ever
the best subjects when employed in military expeditions, but turbulent
and desirous of change in the idleness of peace, he led them against
the Aetolians, and, having wasted their country, he left Pantauchus
with a great part of his army to complete the conquest, and with the
rest he marched in person to find out Pyrrhus, who in like manner was
advancing to encounter him. But so it fell out, that by taking
different ways the two armies did not meet; but whilst Demetrius
entered Epirus, and laid all waste before him, Pyrrhus fell upon
Pantauchus, and, in a battle in which the two commanders met in person
and wounded each other, he gained the victory, and took five thousand
prisoners, besides great numbers slain on the field. The worst thing,
however, for Demetrius was that Pyrrhus had excited less animosity as
an enemy than admiration as a brave man. His taking so large a part
with his own hand in the battle had gained him the greatest name and
glory among the Macedonians. Many among them began to say that this was
the only king in whom there was any likeness to be seen of the great
Alexander's courage; the other kings, and particularly Demetrius, did
nothing but personate him, like actors on a stage, in his pomp and
outward majesty. And Demetrius truly was a perfect play and pageant,
with his robes and diadems, his gold-edged purple and his hats with
double streamers, his very shoes being of the richest purple felt,
embroidered over in gold. One robe in particular, a most superb piece
of work, was long in the loom in preparation for him, in which was to
be wrought the representation of the universe and the celestial bodies.
This, left unfinished when his reverses overtook him, not any one of
the kings of Macedon, his successors, though divers of them haughty
enough, ever presumed to use.
But it was not this theatric pomp alone which disgusted the
Macedonians, but his profuse and luxurious way of living; and, above
all, the difficulty of speaking with him or of obtaining access to his
presence. For either he would not be seen at all, or, if he did give
audience, he was violent and overbearing. Thus he made the envoys of
the Athenians, to whom yet he was more attentive than to all the other
Grecians, wait two whole years before they could obtain a hearing. And
when the Lacedaemonians sent a single person on an embassy to him, he
held himself insulted, and asked angrily whether it was the fact that
the Lacedaemonians had sent but one ambassador. "Yes," was the happy
reply he received, "one ambassador to one king."
Once when in some apparent fit of a more popular and acceptable temper
he was riding abroad, a number of people came up and presented their
written petitions. He courteously received all these, and put them up
in the skirt of his cloak, while the poor people were overjoyed, and
followed him close. But when he came upon the bridge of the river
Axius, shaking out his cloak, he threw all into the river. This excited
very bitter resentment among the Macedonians, who felt themselves to be
not governed, but insulted. They called to mind what some of them had
seen, and others had heard related of King Philip's unambitious and
open, accessible manners. One day when an old woman had assailed him
several times in the road and importuned him to hear her, after he had
told her he had no time, "If so," cried she, "you have no time to be a
king." And this reprimand so stung the king that after thinking of it a
while he went back into the house, and, setting all other matters
apart, for several days together he did nothing else but receive,
beginning with the old woman, the complaints of all that would come.
And to do justice, truly enough, might well be called a king's first
business. "Mars," as says Timotheus, "is the tyrant;" but Law, in
Pindar's words, the king of all. Homer does not say that kings received
at the hands of Jove besieging engines or ships of war, but sentences
of justice, to keep and observe; nor is it the most warlike, unjust,
and murderous, but the most righteous of kings, that has from him the
name of Jupiter's "familiar friend" and scholar. Demetrius's delight
was the title most unlike the choices of the king of gods. The divine
names were those of the Defender and Keeper, his was that of the
Besieger of Cities. The place of virtue was given by him to that which,
had he not been as ignorant as he was powerful, he would have known to
be vice, and honor by his act was associated with crime. While he lay
dangerously ill at Pella, Pyrrhus pretty nearly overran all Macedon,
and advanced as far as the city of Edessa. On recovering his health, he
quickly drove him out, and came to terms with him, being desirous not
to employ his time in a string of petty local conflicts with a
neighbor, when all his thoughts were fixed upon another design. This
was no less than to endeavor the recovery of the whole empire which his
father had possessed; and his preparations were suitable to his hopes,
and the greatness of the enterprise. He had arranged for the levying of
ninety-eight thousand foot, and nearly twelve thousand horse; and he
had a fleet of five hundred galleys on the stocks, some building at
Athens, others at Corinth and Chalcis, and in the neighborhood of
Pella. And he himself was passing evermore from one to another of these
places, to give his directions and his assistance to the plans, while
all that saw were amazed, not so much at the number, as at the
magnitude of the works. Hitherto, there had never been seen a galley
with fifteen or sixteen ranges of oars. At a later time, Ptolemy
Philopator built one of forty rows, which was two hundred and eighty
cubits in length, and the height of her to the top of her stern forty
eight cubits; she had four hundred sailors and four thousand rowers,
and afforded room besides for very near three thousand soldiers to
fight on her decks. But this, after all, was for show, and not for
service, scarcely differing from a fixed edifice ashore, and was not to
be moved without extreme toil and peril; whereas these galleys of
Demetrius were meant quite as much for fighting as for looking at, were
not the less serviceable for their magnificence, and were as wonderful
for their speed and general performance as for their size.
These mighty preparations against Asia, the like of which had not been
made since Alexander first invaded it, united Seleucus, Ptolemy, and
Lysimachus in a confederacy for their defense. They also dispatched
ambassadors to Pyrrhus, to persuade him to make a diversion by
attacking Macedonia; he need not think there was any validity in a
treaty which Demetrius had concluded, not as an engagement to be at
peace with him, but as a means for enabling himself to make war first
upon the enemy of his choice. So when Pyrrhus accepted their proposals,
Demetrius, still in the midst of his preparations, was encompassed with
war on all sides. Ptolemy, with a mighty navy, invaded Greece;
Lysimachus entered Macedonia upon the side of Thrace, and Pyrrhus, from
the Epirot border, both of them spoiling and wasting the country.
Demetrius, leaving his son to look after Greece, marched to the relief
of Macedon, and first of all to oppose Lysimachus. On his way, he
received the news that Pyrrhus had taken the city Beroea; and the
report quickly getting out among the soldiers, all discipline at once
was lost, and the camp was filled with lamentations and tears, anger
and execrations on Demetrius; they would stay no longer, they would
march off, as they said, to take care of their country, friends, and
families; but in reality the intention was to revolt to Lysimachus.
Demetrius, therefore, thought it his business to keep them as far away
as he could from Lysimachus, who was their own countryman, and for
Alexander's sake kindly looked upon by many; they would be ready to
fight with Pyrrhus, a new-comer and a foreigner, whom they could hardly
prefer to himself. But he found himself under a great mistake in these
conjectures. For when he advanced and pitched his camp near, the old
admiration for Pyrrhus's gallantry in arms revived again; and as they
had been used from time immemorial to suppose that the best king was he
that was the bravest soldier, so now they were also told of his
generous usage of his prisoners, and, in short, they were eager to have
anyone in the place of Demetrius, and well pleased that the man should
be Pyrrhus. At first, some straggling parties only deserted, but in a
little time the whole army broke out into an universal mutiny, insomuch
that at last some of them went up, and told him openly that if he
consulted his own safety he were best to make haste to be gone, for
that the Macedonians were resolved no longer to hazard their lives for
the satisfaction of his luxury and pleasure. And this was thought fair
and moderate language, compared with the fierceness of the rest. So,
withdrawing into his tent, and, like an actor rather than a real king,
laying aside his stage-robes of royalty, he put on some common clothes
and stole away. He was no sooner gone but the mutinous army were
fighting and quarreling for the plunder of his tent, but Pyrrhus,
coming immediately, took possession of the camp without a blow, after
which he, with Lysimachus, parted the realm of Macedon betwixt them,
after Demetrius had securely held it just seven years.
As for Demetrius, being thus suddenly despoiled of everything, he
retired to Cassandrea. His wife Phila, in the passion of her grief,
could not endure to see her hapless husband reduced to the condition of
a private and banished man. She refused to entertain any further hope,
and, resolving to quit a fortune which was never permanent except for
calamity, took poison and died. Demetrius, determining still to hold on
by the wreck, went off to Greece, and collected his friends and
officers there. Menelaus, in the play of Sophocles, to give an image of
his vicissitudes of estate, says, --
For me, my destiny, alas, is found
Whirling upon the gods' swift wheel around,
And changing still, and as the moon's fair frame
Cannot continue for two nights the same,
But out of shadow first a crescent shows,
Thence into beauty and perfection grows,
And when the form of plenitude it wears,
Dwindles again, and wholly disappears.
The simile is yet truer of Demetrius and the phases of his fortunes,
now on the increase, presently on the wane, now filling up and now
falling away. And so, at this time of apparent entire obscuration and
extinction, his light again shone out, and accessions of strength,
little by little, came in to fulfill once more the measure of his hope.
At first he showed himself in the garb of a private man, and went about
the cities without any of the badges of a king. One who saw him thus at
Thebes applied to him not inaptly, the lines of Euripides,
Humbled to man, laid by the godhead's pride,
He comes to Dirce and Ismenus' side.
But erelong his expectations had reentered the royal track, and he
began once more to have about him the body and form of empire. The
Thebans received back, as his gift, their ancient constitution. The
Athenians had deserted him. They displaced Diphilus, who was that year
the priest of the two Tutelar Deities, and restored the archons, as of
old, to mark the year; and on hearing that Demetrius was not so weak as
they had expected, they sent into Macedonia to beg the protection of
Pyrrhus. Demetrius, in anger, marched to Athens, and laid close siege
to the city. In this distress, they sent out to him Crates the
philosopher, a person of authority and reputation, who succeeded so
far, that what with his entreaties and the solid reasons which he
offered, Demetrius was persuaded to raise the siege; and, collecting
all his ships, he embarked a force of eleven thousand men with cavalry,
and sailed away to Asia, to Caria and Lydia, to take those provinces
from Lysimachus. Arriving at Miletus, he was met there by Eurydice, the
sister of Phila, who brought along with her Ptolemais, one of her
daughters by king Ptolemy, who had before been affianced to Demetrius,
and with whom he now consummated his marriage. Immediately after, he
proceeded to carry out his project, and was so fortunate in the
beginning, that many cities revolted to him; others, as particularly
Sardis, he took by force; and some generals of Lysimachus, also, came
over to him with troops and money. But when Agathocles, the son of
Lysimachus, arrived with an army, he retreated into Phrygia, with an
intention to pass into Armenia, believing that, if he could once plant
his foot in Armenia, he might set Media in revolt, and gain a position
in Upper Asia, where a fugitive commander might find a hundred ways of
evasion and escape. Agathocles pressed hard upon him, and many
skirmishes and conflicts occurred, in which Demetrius had still the
advantage; but Agathocles straitened him much in his forage, and his
men showed a great dislike to his purpose, which they suspected, of
carrying them far away into Armenia and Media. Famine also pressed upon
them, and some mistake occurred in their passage of the river Lycus, in
consequence of which a large number were swept away and drowned. Still,
however, they could pass their jests, and one of them fixed upon
Demetrius's tent-door a paper with the first verse, slightly altered of
the Oedipus; --
Child of the blind old man, Antigonus,
Into what country are you bringing us?
But at last, pestilence, as is usual, when armies are driven to such
necessities as to subsist upon any food they can get, began to assail
them as well as famine. So that, having lost eight thousand of his men,
with the rest he retreated and came to Tarsus, and because that city
was within the dominions of Seleucus, he was anxious to prevent any
plundering, and wished to give no sort of offense to Seleucus. But when
he perceived it was impossible to restrain the soldiers in their
extreme necessity, Agathocles also having blocked up all the avenues of
Mount Taurus, he wrote a letter to Seleucus, bewailing first all his
own sad fortunes, and proceeding with entreaties and supplications for
some compassion on his part towards one nearly connected with him, who
was fallen into such calamities as might extort tenderness and pity
from his very enemies.
These letters so far moved Seleucus, that he gave orders to the
governors of those provinces that they should furnish Demetrius with
all things suitable to his royal rank, and with sufficient provisions
for his troops. But Patrocles, a person whose judgment was greatly
valued, and who was a friend highly trusted by Seleucus, pointed out to
him, that the expense of maintaining such a body of soldiers was the
least important consideration, but that it was contrary to all policy
to let Demetrius stay in the country, since he, of all the kings of his
time, was the most violent, and most addicted to daring enterprises;
and he was now in a condition which might tempt persons of the greatest
temper and moderation to unlawful and desperate attempts. Seleucus,
excited by this advice, moved with a powerful army towards Cilicia; and
Demetrius, astonished at this sudden alteration, betook himself for
safety to the most inaccessible places of Mount Taurus; from whence he
sent envoys to Seleucus, to request from him that he would permit him
the liberty to settle with his army somewhere among the independent
barbarian tribes, where he might be able to make himself a petty king,
and end his life without further travel and hardship; or, if he refused
him this, at any rate to give his troops food during the winter, and
not expose him in this distressed and naked condition to the fury of
his enemies.
But Seleucus, whose jealousy made him put an ill construction on all he
said, sent him answer, that he would permit him to stay two months and
no longer in Cataonia, provided he presently sent him the principal of
his friends as hostages for his departure then; and, in the meantime,
he fortified all the passages into Syria. So that Demetrius, who saw
himself thus, like a wild beast, in the way to be encompassed on all
sides in the toils, was driven in desperation to his defense, overran
the country, and in several engagements in which Seleucus attacked him,
had the advantage of him. Particularly, when he was once assailed by
the scythed chariots, he successfully avoided the charge and routed his
assailants, and then, expelling the troops that were in guard of the
passes, made himself master of the roads leading into Syria. And now,
elated himself, and finding his soldiers also animated by these
successes, he was resolved to push at all, and to have one deciding
blow for the empire with Seleucus; who, indeed, was in considerable
anxiety and distress, being averse to any assistance from Lysimachus,
whom he both mistrusted and feared, and shrinking from a battle with
Demetrius, whose desperation he knew, and whose fortune he had so often
seen suddenly pass from the lowest to the highest.
But Demetrius, in the meanwhile, was taken with a violent sickness,
from which he suffered extremely himself, and which ruined all his
prospects. His men deserted to the enemy, or dispersed. At last, after
forty days, he began to be so far recovered as to be able to rally his
remaining forces, and marched as if he directly designed for Cilicia;
but in the night, raising his camp without sound of trumpet, he took a
countermarch, and, passing the mountain Amanus, he ravaged an the lower
country as far as Cyrrhestica.
Upon this, Seleucus advancing towards him and encamping at no great
distance, Demetrius set his troops in motion to surprise him by night.
And almost to the last moment Seleucus knew nothing, and was lying
asleep. Some deserter came with the tidings just so soon that he had
time to leap, in great consternation, out of bed, and give the alarm to
his men. And as he was putting on his boots to mount his horse, he bade
the officers about him look well to it, for they had to meet a furious
and terrible wild beast. But Demetrius, by the noise he heard in the
camp, finding they had taken the alarm, drew off his troops in haste.
With the morning's return he found Seleucus pressing hard upon him; so,
sending one of his officers against the other wing, he defeated those
that were opposed to himself. But Seleucus, lighting from his horse,
pulling off his helmet, and taking a target, advanced to the foremost
ranks of the mercenary soldiers, and, showing them who he was, bade
them come over and join him, telling them that it was for their sakes
only that he had so long forborne coming to extremities. And thereupon,
without a blow more, they saluted Seleucus as their king, and passed
over.
Demetrius, who felt that this was his last change of fortune, and that
he had no more vicissitudes to expect, fled to the passes of Amanus,
where, with a very few friends and followers, he threw himself into a
dense forest, and there waited for the night, purposing, if possible,
to make his escape towards Caunus, where he hoped to find his shipping
ready to transport him. But upon inquiry, finding that they had not
provisions even for that one day, he began to think of some other
project. Whilst he was yet in doubt, his friend Sosigenes arrived, who
had four hundred pieces of gold about him, and, with this relief, he
again entertained hopes of being able to reach the coast, and, as soon
as it began to be dark, set forward towards the passes. But, perceiving
by the fires that the enemies had occupied them, he gave up all thought
of that road, and retreated to his old station in the wood, but not
with all his men; for some had deserted, nor were those that remained
as willing as they had been. One of them, in fine, ventured to speak
out, and say that Demetrius had better give himself up to Seleucus;
which Demetrius overhearing, drew out his sword, and would have passed
it through his body, but that some of his friends interposed and
prevented the attempt, persuading him to do as had been said. So at
last he gave way, and sent to Seleucus, to surrender himself at
discretion.
Seleucus, when he was told of it, said it was not Demetrius's good
fortune that had found out this means for his safety, but his own,
which had added to his other honors the opportunity of showing his
clemency and generosity. And forthwith he gave order to his domestic
officers to prepare a royal pavilion, and all things suitable to give
him a splendid reception and entertainment. There was in the attendance
of Seleucus one Apollonides, who formerly had been intimate with
Demetrius. He was, therefore, as the fittest person, dispatched from
the king to meet Demetrius, that he might feel himself more at his
ease, and might come with the confidence of being received as a friend
and relative. No sooner was this message known, but the courtiers and
officers, some few at first, and afterwards almost the whole of them,
thinking, Demetrius would presently become of great power with the
king, hurried off, vying who should be foremost to pay him their
respects. The effect of which was that compassion was converted into
jealousy, and ill-natured, malicious people could the more easily
insinuate to Seleucus that he was giving way to an unwise humanity, the
very first sight of Demetrius having been the occasion of a dangerous
excitement in the army. So, whilst Apollonides, in great delight, and
after him many others, were relating to Demetrius the kind expressions
of Seleucus, and he, after so many troubles and calamities, if indeed
he had still any sense of his surrender of himself being a disgrace,
had now, in confidence on the good hopes held out to him, entirely
forgotten all such thoughts, Pausanias, with a guard of a thousand
horse and foot, came and surrounded him; and, dispersing the rest that
were with him, carried him, not to the presence of Seleucus, but to the
Syrian Chersonese, where he was committed to the safe custody of a
strong guard. Sufficient attendance and liberal provision were here
allowed him, space for riding and walking, a park with game for
hunting, those of his friends and companions in exile who wished it had
permission to see him, and messages of kindness, also, from time to
time, were brought him from Seleucus, bidding him fear nothing, and
intimating, that, so soon as Antiochus and Stratonice should arrive, he
would receive his liberty.
Demetrius, however, finding himself in this condition, sent letters to
those who were with his son, and to his captains and friends at Athens
and Corinth, that they should give no manner of credit to any letters
written to them in his name, though they were sealed with his own
signet, but that, looking upon him as if he were already dead, they
should maintain the cities and whatever was left of his power, for
Antigonus, as his successor. Antigonus received the news of his
father's captivity with great sorrow; he put himself into mourning, and
wrote letters to the rest of the kings, and to Seleucus himself, making
entreaties, and offering not only to surrender whatever they had left,
but himself to be a hostage for his father. Many cities, also, and
princes joined in interceding for him; only Lysimachus sent and offered
a large sum of money to Seleucus to take away his life. But he, who had
always shown his aversion to Lysimachus before, thought him only the
greater barbarian and monster for it. Nevertheless, he still protracted
the time, reserving the favor, as he professed, for the intercession of
Antiochus and Stratonice.
Demetrius, who had sustained the first stroke of his misfortune, in
time grew so familiar with it, that, by continuance, it became easy. At
first he persevered one way or other in taking exercise, in hunting, so
far as he had means, and in riding. Little by little, however, after a
while, he let himself grow indolent and indisposed for them, and took
to dice and drinking, in which he passed most of his time, whether it
were to escape the thoughts of his present condition, with which he was
haunted when sober, and to drown reflection in drunkenness, or that he
acknowledged to himself that this was the real happy life he had long
desired and wished for, and had foolishly let himself be seduced away
from it by a senseless and vain ambition, which had only brought
trouble to himself and others; that highest good which he had thought
to obtain by arms and fleets and soldiers, he had now discovered
unexpectedly in idleness, leisure, and repose. As, indeed, what other
end or period is there of all the wars and dangers which hapless
princes run into, whose misery and folly it is, not merely that they
make luxury and pleasure, instead of virtue and excellence, the object
of their lives, but that they do not so much as know where this luxury
and pleasure are to be found?
Having thus continued three years a prisoner in Chersonesus, for want
of exercise, and by indulging himself in eating and drinking, he fell
into a disease, of which he died at the age of fifty-four. Seleucus was
ill-spoken of, and was himself greatly grieved, that he had yielded so
far to his suspicions, and had let himself be so much outdone by the
barbarian Dromichaetes of Thrace, who had shown so much humanity and
such a kingly temper in his treatment of his prisoner Lysimachus.
There was something dramatic and theatrical in the very funeral
ceremonies with which Demetrius was honored. For his son Antigonus,
understanding that his remains were coming over from Syria, went with
all his fleet to the islands to meet them. They were there presented to
him in a golden urn, which he placed in his largest admiral galley. All
the cities where they touched in their passage sent chaplets to adorn
the urn, and deputed certain of their citizens to follow in mourning,
to assist at the funeral solemnity. When the fleet approached the
harbor of Corinth, the urn, covered with purple, and a royal diadem
upon it, was visible upon the poop, and a troop of young men attended
in arms to receive it at landing Xenophantus, the most famous musician
of the day, played on the flute his most solemn measure, to which the
rowers, as the ship came in, made loud response, their oars, like the
funeral beating of the breast, keeping time with the cadences of the
music. But Antigonus, in tears and mourning attire, excited among the
spectators gathered on the shore the greatest sorrow and compassion.
After crowns and other honors had been offered at Corinth, the remains
were conveyed to Demetrias, a city to which Demetrius had given his
name, peopled from the inhabitants of the small villages of Iolcus.
Demetrius left no other children by his wife Phila but Antigonus and
Stratonice, but he had two other sons, both of his own name, one
surnamed the Thin, by an Illyrian mother, and one who ruled in Cyrene,
by Ptolemais. He had also, by Deidamia, a son, Alexander, who lived and
died in Egypt; and there are some who say that he had a son by
Eurydice, named Corrhabus. His family was continued in a succession of
kings down to Perseus, the last, from whom the Romans took Macedonia.
And now, the Macedonian drama being ended, let us prepare to see the
Roman.
ANTONY
The grandfather of Antony was the famous pleader, whom Marius put to
death for having taken part with Sylla. His father was Antony, surnamed
of Crete, not very famous or distinguished in public life, but a
worthy, good man, and particularly remarkable for his liberality, as
may appear from a single example. He was not very rich, and was for
that reason checked in the exercise of his good-nature by his wife. A
friend that stood in need of money came to borrow of him. Money he had
none, but he bade a servant bring him water in a silver basin, with
which, when it was brought, he wetted his face, as if he meant to
shave; and, sending away the servant upon another errand, gave his
friend the basin, desiring him to turn it to his purpose. And when
there was, afterwards, a great inquiry for it in the house, and his
wife was in a very ill humor, and was going to put the servants one by
one to the search, he acknowledged what he had done, and begged her
pardon.
His wife was Julia, of the family of the Caesars, who, for her
discretion and fair behavior, was not inferior to any of her time.
Under her, Antony received his education, she being, after the death of
his father, remarried to Cornelius Lentulus. who was put to death by
Cicero for having been of Catiline's conspiracy. This, probably, was
the first ground and occasion of that mortal grudge that Antony bore
Cicero. He says, even, that the body of Lentulus was denied burial,
till, by application made to Cicero's wife, it was granted to Julia.
But this seems to be a manifest error, for none of those that suffered
in the consulate of Cicero had the right of burial denied them. Antony
grew up a very beautiful youth, but, by the worst of misfortunes, he
fell into the acquaintance and friendship of Curio, a man abandoned to
his pleasures; who, to make Antony's dependence upon him a matter of
greater necessity, plunged him into a life of drinking and dissipation,
and led him through a course of such extravagance, that he ran, at that
early age, into debt to the amount of two hundred and fifty talents.
For this sum, Curio became his surety; on hearing which, the elder
Curio, his father, drove Antony out of his house. After this, for some
short time, he took part with Clodius, the most insolent and outrageous
demagogue of the time, in his course of violence and disorder; but,
getting weary, before long, of his madness, and apprehensive of the
powerful party forming against him, he left Italy, and traveled into
Greece, where he spent his time in military exercises and in the study
of eloquence. He took most to what was called the Asiatic taste in
speaking, which was then at its height, and was, in many ways, suitable
to his ostentatious, vaunting temper, full of empty flourishes and
unsteady efforts for glory.
After some stay in Greece, he was invited by Gabinius, who had been
consul, to make a campaign with him in Syria, which at first he
refused, not being willing to serve in a private character, but,
receiving a commission to command the horse, he went along with him.
His first service was against Aristobulus, who had prevailed with the
Jews to rebel. Here he was himself the first man to scale the largest
of the works, and beat Aristobulus out of all of them; after which he
routed, in a pitched battle, an army many times over the number of his,
killed almost all of them, and took Aristobulus and his son prisoners.
This war ended, Gabinius was solicited by Ptolemy to restore him to his
kingdom of Egypt, and a promise made of ten thousand talents reward.
Most of the officers were against this enterprise, and Gabinius himself
did not much like it, though sorely tempted by the ten thousand
talents. But Antony, desirous of brave actions, and willing to please
Ptolemy, joined in persuading Gabinius to go. And whereas all were of
opinion that the most dangerous thing before them was the march to
Pelusium, in which they would have to pass over a deep sand, where no
fresh water was to be hoped for, along the Ecregma and the Serbonian
marsh (which the Egyptians call Typhon's breathing-hole, and which is,
in probability, water left behind by, or making its way through from,
the Red Sea, which is here divided from the Mediterranean by a narrow
isthmus), Antony, being ordered thither with the horse, not only made
himself master of the passes, but won Pelusium itself, a great city,
took the garrison prisoners, and, by this means, rendered the march
secure to the army, and the way to victory not difficult for the
general to pursue. The enemy, also, reaped some benefit of his
eagerness for honor. For when Ptolemy, after he had entered Pelusium,
in his rage and spite against the Egyptians, designed to put them to
the sword, Antony withstood him, and hindered the execution. In all the
great and frequent skirmishes and battles, he gave continual proofs of
his personal valor and military conduct; and once in particular, by
wheeling about and attacking the rear of the enemy, he gave the victory
to the assailants in the front, and received for this service signal
marks of distinction. Nor was his humanity towards the deceased
Archelaus less taken notice of. He had been formerly his guest and
acquaintance, and, as he was now compelled, he fought him bravely while
alive, but, on his death, sought out his body and buried it with royal
honors. The consequence was that he left behind him a great name among
the Alexandrians, and all who were serving in the Roman army looked
upon him as a most gallant soldier.
He had also a very good and noble appearance; his beard was well grown,
his forehead large, and his nose aquiline, giving him altogether a
bold, masculine look, that reminded people of the faces of Hercules in
paintings and sculptures. It was, moreover, an ancient tradition, that
the Antonys were descended from Hercules, by a son of his called Anton;
and this opinion he thought to give credit to, by the similarity of his
person just mentioned, and also by the fashion of his dress. For,
whenever he had to appear before large numbers, he wore his tunic girt
low about the hips, a broadsword on his side, and over all a large,
coarse mantle. What might seem to some very insupportable, his
vaunting, his raillery, his drinking in public, sitting down by the men
as they were taking their food, and eating, as he stood, off the common
soldiers' tables, made him the delight and pleasure of the army. In
love affairs, also, he was very agreeable; he gained many friends by
the assistance he gave them in theirs, and took other people's raillery
upon his own with good-humor. And his generous ways, his open and
lavish hand in gifts and favors to his friends and fellow-soldiers, did
a great deal for him in his first advance to power, and, after he had
become great, long maintained his fortunes, when a thousand follies
were hastening their overthrow. One instance of his liberality I must
relate. He had ordered payment to one of his friends of twenty-five
myriads of money, or decies, as the Romans call it, and his steward,
wondering at the extravagance of the sum, laid all the silver in a
heap, as he should pass by. Antony, seeing the heap, asked what it
meant; his steward replied, "The money you have ordered to be given to
your friend." So, perceiving the man's malice, said he, "I thought the
decies had been much more; 't is too little; let it be doubled." This,
however, was at a later time.
When the Roman state finally broke up into two hostile factions, the
aristocratical party joining Pompey, who was in the city, and the
popular side seeking help from Caesar, who was at the head of an army
in Gaul, Curio, the friend of Antony, having changed his party and
devoted himself to Caesar, brought over Antony also to his service. And
the influence which he gained with the people by his eloquence and by
the money which was supplied by Caesar enabled him to make Antony,
first, tribune of the people, and then, augur. And Antony's accession
to office was at once of the greatest advantage to Caesar. In the first
place, he resisted the consul Marcellus, who was putting under Pompey's
orders the troops who were already collected, and was giving him power
to raise new levies; he, on the other hand, making an order that they
should be sent into Syria to reinforce Bibulus, who was making war with
the Parthians, and that no one should give in his name to serve under
Pompey. Next, when the senators would not suffer Caesar's letters to be
received or read in the senate, by virtue of his office he read them
publicly, and succeeded so well, that many were brought to change their
mind; Caesar's demands, as they appeared in what he wrote, being but
just and reasonable. At length, two questions being put in the senate,
the one, whether Pompey should dismiss his army, the other, if Caesar
his, some were for the former, for the latter all, except some few,
when Antony stood up and put the question, if it would be agreeable to
them that both Pompey and Caesar should dismiss their armies. This
proposal met with the greatest approval, they gave him loud
acclamations, and called for it to be put to the vote. But when the
consuls would not have it so, Caesar's friends again made some new
offers, very fair and equitable, but were strongly opposed by Cato, and
Antony himself was commanded to leave the senate by the consul
Lentulus. So, leaving them with execrations, and disguising himself in
a servant's dress, hiring a carriage with Quintus Cassius, he went
straight away to Caesar, declaring at once, when they reached the camp,
that affairs at Rome were conducted without any order or justice, that
the privilege of speaking in the senate was denied the tribunes, and
that he who spoke for common fair dealing was driven out and in danger
of his life.
Upon this, Caesar set his army in motion, and marched into Italy; and
for this reason it is that Cicero writes in his Philippics, that Antony
was as much the cause of the civil war, as Helen was of the Trojan. But
this is but a calumny. For Caesar was not of so slight or weak a temper
as to suffer himself to be carried away, by the indignation of the
moment, into a civil war with his country, upon the sight of Antony and
Cassius seeking refuge in his camp, meanly dressed and in a hired
carriage, without ever having thought of it or taken any such
resolution long before. This was to him, who wanted a pretense of
declaring war, a fair and plausible occasion; but the true motive that
led him was the same that formerly led Alexander and Cyrus against all
mankind, the unquenchable thirst of empire, and the distracted ambition
of being the greatest man in the world, which was impracticable for
him, unless Pompey were put down. So soon, then, as he had advanced and
occupied Rome, and driven Pompey out of Italy, he purposed first to go
against the legions that Pompey had in Spain, and then cross over and
follow him with the fleet that should be prepared during his absence,
in the meantime leaving the government of Rome to Lepidus, as praetor,
and the command of the troops and of Italy to Antony, as tribune of the
people. Antony was not long in getting the hearts of the soldiers,
joining with them in their exercises, and for the most part living
amongst them, and making them presents to the utmost of his abilities;
but with all others he was unpopular enough. He was too lazy to pay
attention to the complaints of persons who were injured; he listened
impatiently to petitions; and he had an ill name for familiarity with
other people's wives. In short, the government of Caesar (which, so far
as he was concerned himself, had the appearance of anything rather than
a tyranny), got a bad repute through his friends. And of these friends,
Antony, as he had the largest trust, and committed the greatest errors,
was thought the most deeply in fault.
Caesar, however, at his return from Spain, overlooked the charges
against him, and had no reason ever to complain, in the employments he
gave him in the war, of any want of courage, energy, or military skill.
He himself, going aboard at Brundusium, sailed over the Ionian Sea with
a few troops, and sent back the vessels with orders to Antony and
Gabinius to embark the army, and come over with all speed into
Macedonia. Gabinius, having no mind to put to sea in the rough,
dangerous weather of the winter season, was for marching the army round
by the long land route; but Antony, being more afraid lest Caesar might
suffer from the number of his enemies, who pressed him hard, beat back
Libo, who was watching with a fleet at the mouth of the haven of
Brundusium, by attacking his galleys with a number of small boats, and,
gaining thus an opportunity, put on board twenty thousand foot and
eight hundred horse, and so set out to sea. And, being espied by the
enemy and pursued, from this danger he was rescued by a strong south
wind, which sprang up and raised so high a sea, that the enemy's
galleys could make little way. But his own ships were driving before it
upon a lee shore of cliffs and rocks running sheer to the water, where
there was no hope of escape, when all of a sudden the wind turned about
to south-west, and blew from land to the main sea, where Antony, now
sailing in security, saw the coast all covered with the wreck of the
enemy's fleet. For hither the galleys in pursuit had been carried by
the gale, and not a few of them dashed to pieces. Many men and much
property fell into Antony's hands; he took also the town of Lissus,
and, by the seasonable arrival of so large a reinforcement, gave Caesar
great encouragement.
There was not one of the many engagements that now took place one after
another in which he did not signalize himself; twice he stopped the
army in its full flight, led them back to a charge, and gained the
victory. So that not without reason his reputation, next to Caesar's,
was greatest in the army. And what opinion Caesar himself had of him
well appeared when for the final battle in Pharsalia, which was to
determine everything, he himself chose to lead the right wing,
committing the charge of the left to Antony, as to the best officer of
all that served under him. After the battle, Caesar, being created
dictator, went in pursuit of Pompey, and sent Antony to Rome, with the
character of Master of the Horse, who is in office and power next to
the dictator, when present, and in his absence is the first, and pretty
nearly indeed the sole magistrate. For on the appointment of a
dictator, with the one exception of the tribunes, all other magistrates
cease to exercise any authority in Rome.
Dolabella, however, who was tribune, being a young man and eager for
change, was now for bringing in a general measure for canceling debts,
and wanted Antony, who was his friend, and forward enough to promote
any popular project, to take part with him in this step. Asinius and
Trebellius were of the contrary opinion, and it so happened, at the
same time, Antony was crossed by a terrible suspicion that Dolabella
was too familiar with his wife; and in great trouble at this, he parted
with her (she being his cousin, and daughter to Caius Antonius, the
colleague of Cicero), and, taking part with Asinius, came to open
hostilities with Dolabella, who had seized on the forum, intending to
pass his law by force. Antony, backed by a vote of the senate that
Dolabella should be put down by force of arms, went down and attacked
him, killing some of his, and losing some of his own men; and by this
action lost his favor with the commonalty, while with the better class
and with all well conducted people his general course of life made him,
as Cicero says, absolutely odious, utter disgust being excited by his
drinking bouts at all hours, his wild expenses, his gross amours, the
day spent in sleeping or walking off his debauches, and the night in
banquets and at theaters, and in celebrating the nuptials of some
comedian or buffoon. It is related that, drinking all night at the
wedding of Hippias, the comedian, on the morning, having to harangue
the people, he came forward, overcharged as he was, and vomited before
them all, one of his friends holding his gown for him. Sergius, the
player, was one of the friends who could do most with him; also
Cytheris, a woman of the same trade, whom he made much of, and who,
when he went his progress, accompanied him in a litter, and had her
equipage, not in anything inferior to his mother's; while every one,
moreover, was scandalized at the sight of the golden cups that he took
with him, fitter for the ornaments of a procession than the uses of a
journey, at his having pavilions set up, and sumptuous morning repasts
laid out by river-sides and in groves, at his having chariots drawn by
lions, and common women and singing girls quartered upon the houses of
serious fathers and mothers of families. And it seemed very
unreasonable that Caesar, out of Italy, should lodge in the open field,
and, with great fatigue and danger, pursue the remainder of a hazardous
war, whilst others, by favor of his authority, should insult the
citizens with their impudent luxury.
All this appears to have aggravated party quarrels in Rome, and to have
encouraged the soldiers in acts of license and rapacity. And,
accordingly, when Caesar came home, he acquitted Dolabella, and, being
created the third time consul, took, not Antony, but Lepidus, for his
colleague. Pompey's house being offered for sale, Antony bought it,
and, when the price was demanded of him, loudly complained. This, he
tells us himself, and because he thought his former services had not
been recompensed as they deserved, made him not follow Caesar with the
army into Libya. However, Caesar, by dealing gently with his errors,
seems to have succeeded in curing him of a good deal of his folly and
extravagance. He gave up his former courses, and took a wife, Fulvia,
the widow of Clodius the demagogue, a woman not born for spinning or
housewifery, nor one that could be content with ruling a private
husband, but prepared to govern a first magistrate, or give orders to a
commander-in-chief. So that Cleopatra had great obligations to her for
having taught Antony to be so good a servant, he coming to her hands
tame and broken into entire obedience to the commands of a mistress. He
used to play all sorts of sportive, boyish tricks, to keep Fulvia in
good-humor. As, for example, when Caesar, after his victory in Spain,
was on his return, Antony, among the rest, went out to meet him; and, a
rumor being spread that Caesar was killed and the enemy marching into
Italy, he resumed to Rome, and, disguising himself, came to her by
night muffled up as a servant that brought letters from Antony. She,
with great impatience, before she received the letter, asks if Antony
were well, and instead of an answer he gives her the letter; and, as
she was opening it, took her about the neck and kissed her. This little
story of many of the same nature, I give as a specimen.
There was nobody of any rank in Rome that did not go some days' journey
to meet Caesar on his return from Spain; but Antony was the best
received of any, admitted to ride the whole journey with him in his
carriage, while behind came Brutus Albinus, and Octavian, his niece's
son, who afterwards bore his name and reigned so long over the Romans.
Caesar being created, the fifth time, consul, without delay chose
Antony for his colleague, but, designing himself to give up his own
consulate to Dolabella, he acquainted the senate with his resolution.
But Antony opposed it with all his might, saying much that was bad
against Dolabella, and receiving the like language in return, till
Caesar could bear with the indecency no longer, and deferred the matter
to another time. Afterwards, when he came before the people to proclaim
Dolabella, Antony cried out that the auspices were unfavorable, so that
at last Caesar, much to Dolabella's vexation, yielded and gave it up.
And it is credible that Caesar was about as much disgusted with the one
as the other. When someone was accusing them both to him, "It is not,"
said he, "these well fed, long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and
the hungry looking;" meaning Brutus and Cassius, by whose conspiracy he
afterwards fell.
And the fairest pretext for that conspiracy was furnished, without his
meaning it, by Antony himself. The Romans were celebrating their
festival, called the Lupercalia, when Caesar, in his triumphal habit,
and seated above the Rostra in the market-place, was a spectator of the
sports. The custom is, that many young noblemen and of the magistracy,
anointed with oil and having straps of hide in their hands, run about
and strike, in sport, at everyone they meet. Antony was running with
the rest; but, omitting the old ceremony, twining a garland of bay
round a diadem, he ran up to the Rostra, and, being lifted up by his
companions, would have put it upon the head of Caesar, as if by that
ceremony he were declared king. Caesar seemingly refused, and drew
aside to avoid it, and was applauded by the people with great shouts.
Again Antony pressed it, and again he declined its acceptance. And so
the dispute between them went on for some time, Antony's solicitations
receiving but little encouragement from the shouts of a few friends,
and Caesar's refusal being accompanied with the general applause of the
people; a curious thing enough, that they should submit with patience
to the fact, and yet at the same time dread the name as the destruction
of their liberty. Caesar, very much discomposed at what had past, got
up from his seat, and, laying bare his neck, said, he was ready to
receive the stroke, if any one of them desired to give it. The crown
was at last put on one of his statues, but was taken down by some of
the tribunes, who were followed home by the people with shouts of
applause. Caesar, however, resented it, and deposed them.
These passages gave great encouragement to Brutus and Cassius, who, in
making choice of trusty friends for such an enterprise, were thinking
to engage Antony. The rest approved, except Trebonius, who told them
that Antony and he had lodged and traveled together in the last journey
they took to meet Caesar, and that he had let fall several words, in a
cautious way, on purpose to sound him; that Antony very well understood
him, but did not encourage it; however, he had said nothing of it to
Caesar, but had kept the secret faithfully. The conspirators then
proposed that Antony should die with him, which Brutus would not
consent to, insisting that an action undertaken in defense of right and
the laws must be maintained unsullied, and pure of injustice. It was
settled that Antony, whose bodily strength and high office made him
formidable, should, at Caesar's entrance into the senate, when the deed
was to be done, be amused outside by some of the party in a
conversation about some pretended business.
So when all was proceeded with, according to their plan, and Caesar had
fallen in the senate-house, Antony, at the first moment, took a
servant's dress, and hid himself. But, understanding that the
conspirators had assembled in the Capitol, and had no further design
upon anyone, he persuaded them to come down, giving them his son as a
hostage. That night Cassius supped at Antony's house, and Brutus with
Lepidus. Antony then convened the senate, and spoke in favor of an act
of oblivion, and the appointment of Brutus and Cassius to provinces.
These measures the senate passed; and resolved that all Caesar's acts
should remain in force. Thus Antony went out of the senate with the
highest possible reputation and esteem; for it was apparent that he had
prevented a civil war, and had composed, in the wisest and most
statesman-like way, questions of the greatest difficulty and
embarrassment. But these temperate counsels were soon swept away by the
tide of popular applause, and the prospects, if Brutus were overthrown,
of being without doubt the ruler-in-chief. As Caesar's body was
conveying to the tomb, Antony, according to the custom, was making his
funeral oration in the market; place, and, perceiving the people to be
infinitely affected with what he had said, he began to mingle with his
praises language of commiseration, and horror at what had happened,
and, as he was ending his speech, he took the under-clothes of the
dead, and held them up, showing them stains of blood and the holes of
the many stabs, calling those that had done this act villains and
bloody murderers. All which excited the people to such indignation,
that they would not defer the funeral, but, making a pile of tables and
forms in the very market-place, set fire to it; and everyone, taking a
brand, ran to the conspirators' houses, to attack them.
Upon this, Brutus and his whole party left the city, and Caesar's
friends joined themselves to Antony. Calpurnia, Caesar's wife, lodged
with him the best part of the property, to the value of four thousand
talents; he got also into his hands all Caesar's papers, wherein were
contained journals of all he had done, and draughts of what he designed
to do, which Antony made good use of; for by this means he appointed
what magistrates he pleased, brought whom he would into the senate,
recalled some from exile, freed others out of prison, and all this as
ordered so by Caesar. The Romans, in mockery, gave those who were thus
benefited the name of Charonites, since, if put to prove their patents,
they must have recourse to the papers of the dead. In short, Antony's
behavior in Rome was very absolute, he himself being consul, and his
two brothers in great place; Caius, the one, being praetor, and Lucius,
the other, tribune of the people.
While matters went thus in Rome, the young Caesar, Caesar's niece's
son, and by testament left his heir, arrived at Rome from Apollonia,
where he was when his uncle was killed. The first thing he did was to
visit Antony, as his father's friend. He spoke to him concerning the
money that was in his hands, and reminded him of the legacy Caesar had
made of seventy-five drachmas to every Roman citizen. Antony, at first,
laughing at such discourse from so young a man, told him he wished he
were in his health, and that he wanted good counsel and good friends,
to tell him the burden of being executor to Caesar would sit very
uneasily upon his young shoulders. This was no answer to him; and, when
he persisted in demanding the property, Antony went on treating him
injuriously both in word and deed, opposed him when he stood for the
tribune's office, and, when he was taking steps for the dedication of
his father's golden chair, as had been enacted, he threatened to send
him to prison if he did not give over soliciting the people. This made
the young Caesar apply himself to Cicero, and all those that hated
Antony; by them he was recommended to the senate, while he himself
courted the people, and drew together the soldiers from their
settlements, till Antony got alarmed, and gave him a meeting in the
Capitol, where, after some words, they came to an accommodation.
That night Antony had a very unlucky dream, fancying that his right
hand was thunderstruck. And, some few days after, he was informed that
Caesar was plotting to take his life. Caesar explained, but was not
believed, so that the breach was now made as wide as ever; each of them
hurried about all through Italy to engage, by great offers, the old
soldiers that lay scattered in their settlements, and to be the first
to secure the troops that still remained undischarged. Cicero was at
this time the man of greatest influence in Rome. He made use of all his
art to exasperate people against Antony, and at length persuaded the
senate to declare him a public enemy, to send Caesar the rods and axes
and other marks of honor usually given to praetors, and to issue orders
to Hirtius and Pansa, who were the consuls, to drive Antony out of
Italy. The armies engaged near Modena, and Caesar himself was present
and took part in the battle. Antony was defeated, but both the consuls
were slain. Antony, in his flight, was overtaken by distresses of every
kind, and the worst of all of them was famine. But it was his character
in calamities to be better than at any other time. Antony, in
misfortune, was most nearly a virtuous man. It is common enough for
people, when they fall into great disasters, to discern what is right,
and what they ought to do; but there are but few who in such
extremities have the strength to obey their judgment, either in doing
what it approves or avoiding what it condemns; and a good many are so
weak as to give way to their habits all the more, and are incapable of
using their minds. Antony, on this occasion, was a most wonderful
example to his soldiers. He, who had just quitted so much luxury and
sumptuous living, made no difficulty now of drinking foul water and
feeding on wild fruits and roots. Nay, it is related they ate the very
bark of trees, and, in passing over the Alps, lived upon creatures that
no one before had ever been willing to touch.
The design was to join the army on the other side the Alps, commanded
by Lepidus, who he imagined would stand his friend, he having done him
many good offices with Caesar. On coming up and encamping near at hand,
finding he had no sort of encouragement offered him, he resolved to
push his fortune and venture all. His hair was long and disordered, nor
had he shaved his beard since his defeat; in this guise, and with a
dark colored cloak flung over him, he came into the trenches of
Lepidus, and began to address the army. Some were moved at his habit,
others at his words, so that Lepidus, not liking it, ordered the
trumpets to sound, that he might be heard no longer. This raised in the
soldiers yet a greater pity, so that they resolved to confer secretly
with him, and dressed Laelius and Clodius in women's clothes, and sent
them to see him. They advised him without delay to attack Lepidus's
trenches, assuring him that a strong party would receive him, and, if
he wished it, would kill Lepidus. Antony, however, had no wish for
this, but next morning marched his army to pass over the river that
parted the two camps. He was himself the first man that stepped in,
and, as he went through towards the other bank, he saw Lepidus's
soldiers in great numbers reaching out their hands to help him, and
beating down the works to make him way. Being entered into the camp,
and finding himself absolute master, he nevertheless treated Lepidus
with the greatest civility, and gave him the title of Father, when he
spoke to him, and, though he had everything at his own command, he left
him the honor of being called the general. This fair usage brought over
to him Munatius Plancus, who was not far off with a considerable force.
Thus in great strength he repassed the Alps, leading with him into
Italy seventeen legions and ten thousand horse, besides six legions
which he left in garrison under the command of Varius, one of his
familiar friends and boon companions, whom they used to call by the
nickname of Cotylon.
Caesar, perceiving that Cicero's wishes were for liberty, had ceased to
pay any further regard to him, and was now employing the mediation of
his friends to come to a good understanding with Antony. They both met
together with Lepidus in a small island, where the conference lasted
three days. The empire was soon determined of, it being divided amongst
them as if it had been their paternal inheritance. That which gave them
all the trouble was to agree who should be put to death, each of them
desiring to destroy his enemies and to save his friends. But, in the
end, animosity to those they hated carried the day against respect for
relations and affection for friends; and Caesar sacrificed Cicero to
Antony, Antony gave up his uncle Lucius Caesar, and Lepidus received
permission to murder his brother Paulus, or, as others say, yielded his
brother to them. I do not believe anything ever took place more truly
savage or barbarous than this composition, for, in this exchange of
blood for blood, they were equally guilty of the lives they surrendered
and of those they took; or, indeed, more guilty in the case of their
friends, for whose deaths they had not even the justification of
hatred. To complete the reconciliation, the soldiery, coming about
them, demanded that confirmation should be given to it by some alliance
of marriage; Caesar should marry Clodia, the daughter of Fulvia, wife
to Antony. This also being agreed to, three hundred persons were put to
death by proscription. Antony gave orders to those that were to kill
Cicero, to cut off his head and right hand, with which he had written
his invectives against him; and, when they were brought before him, he
regarded them joyfully, actually bursting out more than once into
laughter, and when he had satiated himself with the sight of them,
ordered them to be hung up above the speaker's place in the forum,
thinking thus to insult the dead, while in fact he only exposed his own
wanton arrogance, and his unworthiness to hold the power that fortune
had given him. His uncle Lucius Caesar, being closely pursued, took
refuge with his sister, who, when the murderers had broken into her
house and were pressing into her chamber, met them at the door, and,
spreading out her hands, cried out several times, "You shall not kill
Lucius Caesar till you first dispatch me, who gave your general his
birth;" and in this manner she succeeded in getting her brother out of
the way, and saving his life.
This triumvirate was very hateful to the Romans, and Antony most of all
bore the blame, because he was older than Caesar, and had greater
authority than Lepidus, and withal he was no sooner settled in his
affairs, but he returned to his luxurious and dissolute way of living.
Besides the ill reputation he gained by his general behavior, it was
some considerable disadvantage to him his living in the house of Pompey
the Great, who had been as much admired for his temperance and his
sober, citizen-like habits of life, as ever he was for having triumphed
three times. They could not without anger see the doors of that house
shut against magistrates, officers, and envoys, who were shamefully
refused admittance, while it was filled inside with players, jugglers,
and drunken flatterers, upon whom were spent the greatest part of the
wealth which violence and cruelty procured. For they did not limit
themselves to the forfeiture of the estates of such as were proscribed,
defrauding the widows and families, nor were they contented with laying
on every possible kind of tax and imposition; but, hearing that several
sums of money were, as well by strangers as citizens of Rome, deposited
in the hands of the vestal virgins, they went and took the money away
by force. When it was manifest that nothing would ever be enough for
Antony, Caesar at last called for a division of property. The army was
also divided between them, upon their march into Macedonia to make war
with Brutus and Cassius, Lepidus being left with the command of the
city.
However, after they had crossed the sea and engaged in operations of
war, encamping in front of the enemy, Antony opposite Cassius, and
Caesar opposite Brutus, Caesar did nothing worth relating, and all the
success and victory were Antony's. In the first battle, Caesar was
completely routed by Brutus, his camp taken, he himself very narrowly
escaping by flight. As he himself writes in his Memoirs, he retired
before the battle, on account of a dream which one of his friends had.
But Antony, on the other hand, defeated Cassius; though some have
written that he was not actually present in the engagement, and only
joined afterwards in the pursuit. Cassius was killed, at his own
entreaty and order, by one of his most trusted freedmen, Pindarus, not
being aware of Brutus's victory. After a few days' interval, they
fought another battle, in which Brutus lost the day, and slew himself;
and Caesar being sick, Antony had almost all the honor of the victory.
Standing over Brutus's dead body, he uttered a few words of reproach
upon him for the death of his brother Caius, who had been executed by
Brutus's order in Macedonia in revenge of Cicero; but, saying presently
that Hortensius was most to blame for it, he gave order for his being
slain upon his brother's tomb, and, throwing his own scarlet mantle,
which was of great value, upon the body of Brutus, he gave charge to
one of his own freedmen to take care of his funeral. This man, as
Antony came to understand, did not leave the mantle with the corpse,
but kept both it and a good part of the money that should have been
spent in the funeral for himself; for which he had him put to death.
But Caesar was conveyed to Rome, no one expecting that he would long
survive. Antony, proposing to go to the eastern provinces to lay them
under contribution, entered Greece with a large force. The promise had
been made that every common soldier should receive for his pay five
thousand drachmas; so it was likely there would be need of pretty
severe taxing and levying to raise money. However, to the Greeks he
showed at first reason and moderation enough; he gratified his love of
amusement by hearing the learned men dispute, by seeing the games, and
undergoing initiation; and in judicial matters he was equitable, taking
pleasure in being styled a lover of Greece, but, above all, in being
called a lover of Athens, to which city he made very considerable
presents. The people of Megara wished to let him know that they also
had something to show him, and invited him to come and see their
senate-house. So he went and examined it, and on their asking him how
he liked it, told them it was "not very large, but extremely ruinous."
At the same time, he had a survey made of the temple of the Pythian
Apollo, as if he had designed to repair it, and indeed he had declared
to the senate his intention so to do.
However, leaving Lucius Censorinus in Greece, he crossed over into
Asia, and there laid his hands on the stores of accumulated wealth,
while kings waited at his door, and queens were rivaling one another,
who should make him the greatest presents or appear most charming in
his eyes. Thus, whilst Caesar in Rome was wearing out his strength
amidst seditions and wars, Antony, with nothing to do amidst the
enjoyments of peace, let his passions carry him easily back to the old
course of life that was familiar to him. A set of harpers and pipers,
Anaxenor and Xuthus, the dancing-man Metrodorus, and a whole Bacchic
rout of the like Asiatic exhibitors, far outdoing in license and
buffoonery the pests that had followed out of Italy, came in and
possessed the court; the thing was past patience, wealth of all kinds
being wasted on objects like these. The whole of Asia was like the city
in Sophocles, loaded, at one time,
with incense in the air,
Jubilant songs, and outcries of despair.
When he made his entry into Ephesus, the women met him dressed up like
Bacchantes, and the men and boys like Satyrs and Fauns, and throughout
the town nothing was to be seen but spears wreathed about with ivy,
harps, flutes, and psaltries, while Antony in their songs was Bacchus
the Giver of Joy and the Gentle. And so indeed he was to some, but to
far more the Devourer and the Savage; for he would deprive persons of
worth and quality of their fortunes to gratify villains and flatterers,
who would sometimes beg the estates of men yet living, pretending they
were dead, and, obtaining a grant, take possession. He gave his cook
the house of a Magnesian citizen, as a reward for a single highly
successful supper, and, at last, when he was proceeding to lay a second
whole tribute on Asia, Hybreas, speaking on behalf of the cities, took
courage, and told him broadly, but aptly enough for Antony's taste, "If
you can take two yearly tributes, you can doubtless give us a couple of
summers, and a double harvest time;" and put it to him in the plainest
and boldest way, that Asia had raised two hundred thousand talents for
his service: "If this has not been paid to you, ask your collectors for
it; if it has, and is all gone, we are ruined men." These words touched
Antony to the quick, who was simply ignorant of most things that were
done in his name; not that he was so indolent, as he was prone to trust
frankly in all about him. For there was much simplicity in his
character; he was slow to see his faults, but, when he did see them,
was extremely repentant, and ready to ask pardon of those he had
injured; prodigal in his acts of reparation, and severe in his
punishments, but his generosity was much more extravagant than his
severity; his raillery was sharp and insulting, but the edge of it was
taken off by his readiness to submit to any kind of repartee; for he
was as well contented to be rallied, as he was pleased to rally others.
And this freedom of speech was, indeed, the cause of many of his
disasters. He never imagined that those who used so much liberty in
their mirth would flatter or deceive him in business of consequence,
not knowing how common it is with parasites to mix their flattery with
boldness, as confectioners do their sweetmeats with something biting,
to prevent the sense of satiety. Their freedoms and impertinences at
table were designed expressly to give to their obsequiousness in
council the air of being not complaisance, but conviction.
Such being his temper, the last and crowning mischief that could befall
him came in the love of Cleopatra, to awaken and kindle to fury
passions that as yet lay still and dormant in his nature, and to stifle
and finally corrupt any elements that yet made resistance in him, of
goodness and a sound judgment. He fell into the snare thus. When making
preparation for the Parthian war, he sent to command her to make her
personal appearance in Cilicia, to answer an accusation, that she had
given great assistance, in the late wars, to Cassius. Dellius, who was
sent on this message, had no sooner seen her face, and remarked her
adroitness and subtlety in speech, but he felt convinced that Antony
would not so much as think of giving any molestation to a woman like
this; on the contrary, she would be the first in favor with him. So he
set himself at once to pay his court to the Egyptian, and gave her his
advice, "to go," in the Homeric style, to Cilicia, "in her best
attire," and bade her fear nothing from Antony, the gentlest and
kindest of soldiers. She had some faith in the words of Dellius, but
more in her own attractions, which, having formerly recommended her to
Caesar and the young Cnaeus Pompey, she did not doubt might prove yet
more successful with Antony. Their acquaintance was with her when a
girl, young, and ignorant of the world, but she was to meet Antony in
the time of life when women's beauty is most splendid, and their
intellects are in full maturity. She made great preparation for her
journey, of money, gifts, and ornaments of value, such as so wealthy a
kingdom might afford, but she brought with her her surest hopes in her
own magic arts and charms.
She received several letters, both from Antony and from his friends, to
summon her, but she took no account of these orders; and at last, as if
in mockery of them, she came sailing up the river Cydnus, in a barge
with gilded stern and outspread sails of purple, while oars of silver
beat time to the music of flutes and fifes and harps. She herself lay
all along, under a canopy of cloth of gold, dressed as Venus in a
picture, and beautiful young boys, like painted Cupids, stood on each
side to fan her. Her maids were dressed like Sea Nymphs and Graces,
some steering at the rudder, some working at the ropes. The perfumes
diffused themselves from the vessel to the shore, which was covered
with multitudes, part following the galley up the river on either bank,
part running out of the city to see the sight. The market-place was
quite emptied, and Antony at last was left alone sitting upon the
tribunal; while the word went through all the multitude, that Venus was
come to feast with Bacchus, for the common good of Asia. On her
arrival, Antony sent to invite her to supper. She thought it fitter he
should come to her; so, willing to show his good-humor and courtesy, he
complied, and went. He found the preparations to receive him
magnificent beyond expression, but nothing so admirable as the great
number of lights; for on a sudden there was let down altogether so
great a number of branches with lights in them so ingeniously disposed,
some in squares, and some in circles, that the whole thing was a
spectacle that has seldom been equaled for beauty.
The next day, Antony invited her to supper, and was very desirous to
outdo her as well in magnificence as contrivance; but he found he was
altogether beaten in both, and was so well convinced of it, that he was
himself the first to jest and mock at his poverty of wit, and his
rustic awkwardness. She, perceiving that his raillery was broad and
gross, and savored more of the soldier than the courtier, rejoined in
the same taste, and fell into it at once, without any sort of
reluctance or reserve. For her actual beauty, it is said, was not in
itself so remarkable that none could be compared with her, or that no
one could see her without being struck by it, but the contact of her
presence, if you lived with her, was irresistible; the attraction of
her person, joining with the charm of her conversation, and the
character that attended all she said or did, was something bewitching.
It was a pleasure merely to hear the sound of her voice, with which,
like an instrument of many strings, she could pass from one language to
another; so that there were few of the barbarian nations that she
answered by an interpreter; to most of them she spoke herself, as to
the Ethiopians, Troglodytes, Hebrews, Arabians, Syrians, Medes,
Parthians, and many others, whose language she had learnt; which was
all the more surprising, because most of the kings her predecessors
scarcely gave themselves the trouble to acquire the Egyptian tongue,
and several of them quite abandoned the Macedonian.
Antony was so captivated by her, that, while Fulvia his wife maintained
his quarrels in Rome against Caesar by actual force of arms, and the
Parthian troops, commanded by Labienus (the king's generals having made
him commander-in-chief), were assembled in Mesopotamia, and ready to
enter Syria, he could yet suffer himself to be carried away by her to
Alexandria, there to keep holiday, like a boy, in play and diversion,
squandering and fooling away in enjoyments that most costly, as
Antiphon says, of all valuables, time. They had a sort of company, to
which they gave a particular name, calling it that of the Inimitable
Livers. The members entertained one another daily in turn, with an
extravagance of expenditure beyond measure or belief. Philotas, a
physician of Amphissa, who was at that time a student of medicine in
Alexandria, used to tell my grandfather Lamprias, that, having some
acquaintance with one of the royal cooks, he was invited by him, being
a young man, to come and see the sumptuous preparations for supper. So
he was taken into the kitchen, where he admired the prodigious variety
of all things; but particularly, seeing eight wild boars roasting
whole, says he, "Surely you have a great number of guests." The cook
laughed at his simplicity, and told him there were not above twelve to
sup, but that every dish was to be served up just roasted to a turn,
and if anything was but one minute ill-timed, it was spoiled; "And,"
said he, "maybe Antony will sup just now, maybe not this hour, maybe he
will call for wine, or begin to talk, and will put it off. So that," he
continued, "it is not one, but many suppers must be had in readiness,
as it is impossible to guess at his hour." This was Philotas's story;
who related besides, that he afterwards came to be one of the medical
attendants of Antony's eldest son by Fulvia, and used to be invited
pretty often, among other companions, to his table, when he was not
supping with his father. One day another physician had talked loudly,
and given great disturbance to the company, whose mouth Philotas
stopped with this sophistical syllogism: "In some states of fever the
patient should take cold water; everyone who has a fever is in some
state of fever; therefore in a fever cold water should always be
taken." The man was quite struck dumb, and Antony's son, very much
pleased, laughed aloud, and said, Philotas, "I make you a present of
all you see there," pointing to a sideboard covered with plate.
Philotas thanked him much, but was far enough from ever imagining that
a boy of his age could dispose of things of that value. Soon after,
however, the plate was all brought to him, and he was desired to set
his mark upon it; and when he put it away from him, and was afraid to
accept the present, "What ails the man?" said he that brought it; "do
you know that he who gives you this is Antony's son, who is free to
give it, if it were all gold? but if you will be advised by me, I would
counsel you to accept of the value in money from us; for there may be
amongst the rest some antique or famous piece of workmanship, which
Antony would be sorry to part with." These anecdotes my grandfather
told us Philotas used frequently to relate.
To return to Cleopatra; Plato admits four sorts of flattery, but she
had a thousand. Were Antony serious or disposed to mirth, she had at
any moment some new delight or charm to meet his wishes; at every turn
she was upon him, and let him escape her neither by day nor by night.
She played at dice with him, drank with him, hunted with him; and when
he exercised in arms, she was there to see. At night she would go
rambling with him to disturb and torment people at their doors and
windows, dressed like a servant-woman, for Antony also went in
servant's disguise, and from these expeditions he often came home very
scurvily answered, and sometimes even beaten severely, though most
people guessed who it was. However, the Alexandrians in general liked
it all well enough, and joined good humoredly and kindly in his frolic
and play, saying they were much obliged to Antony for acting his tragic
parts at Rome, and keeping his comedy for them. It would be trifling
without end to be particular in his follies, but his fishing must not
be forgotten. He went out one day to angle with Cleopatra, and, being
so unfortunate as to catch nothing in the presence of his mistress, he
gave secret orders to the fishermen to dive under water, and put fishes
that had been already taken upon his hooks; and these he drew so fast
that the Egyptian perceived it. But, feigning great admiration, she
told everybody how dexterous Antony was, and invited them next day to
come and see him again. So, when a number of them had come on board the
fishing boats, as soon as he had let down his hook, one of her servants
was beforehand with his divers, and fixed upon his hook a salted fish
from Pontus. Antony, feeling his line give, drew up the prey, and when,
as may be imagined, great laughter ensued, "Leave," said Cleopatra,
"the fishing-rod, general, to us poor sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus;
your game is cities, provinces, and kingdoms."
Whilst he was thus diverting himself and engaged in this boys' play,
two dispatches arrived; one from Rome, that his brother Lucius and his
wife Fulvia, after many quarrels among themselves, had joined in war
against Caesar, and, having lost all, had fled out of Italy; the other
bringing little better news, that Labienus, at the head of the
Parthians, was overrunning Asia, from Euphrates and Syria as far as
Lydia and Ionia. So, scarcely at last rousing himself from sleep, and
shaking off the fumes of wine, he set out to attack the Parthians, and
went as far as Phoenicia; but, upon the receipt of lamentable letters
from Fulvia, turned his course with two hundred ships to Italy. And, in
his way, receiving, such of his friends as fled from Italy, he was
given to understand that Fulvia was the sole cause of the war, a woman
of a restless spirit and very bold, and withal her hopes were that
commotions in Italy would force Antony from Cleopatra. But it happened
that Fulvia, as she was coming to meet her husband, fell sick by the
way, and died at Sicyon, so that an accommodation was the more easily
made. For when he reached Italy, and Caesar showed no intention of
laying anything to his charge, and he on his part shifted the blame of
everything on Fulvia, those that were friends to them would not suffer
that the time should be spent in looking narrowly into the plea, but
made a reconciliation first, and then a partition of the empire between
them, taking as their boundary the Ionian Sea, the eastern provinces
falling to Antony, to Caesar the western, and Africa being left to
Lepidus. And an agreement was made, that everyone in their turn, as he
thought fit, should make their friends consuls, when they did not
choose to take the offices themselves.
These terms were well approved of, but yet it was thought some closer
tie would be desirable; and for this, fortune offered occasion. Caesar
had an elder sister, not of the whole blood, for Attia was his mother's
name, hers Ancharia. This sister, Octavia, he was extremely attached
to, as, indeed, she was, it is said, quite a wonder of a woman. Her
husband, Caius Marcellus, had died not long before, and Antony was now
a widower by the death of Fulvia; for, though he did not disavow the
passion he had for Cleopatra, yet he disowned anything of marriage,
reason, as yet, upon this point, still maintaining the debate against
the charms of the Egyptian. Everybody concurred in promoting this new
alliance, fully expecting that with the beauty, honor, and prudence of
Octavia, when her company should, as it was certain it would, have
engaged his affections, all would be kept in the safe and happy course
of friendship. So, both parties being agreed, they went to Rome to
celebrate the nuptials, the senate dispensing with the law by which a
widow was not permitted to marry till ten months after the death of her
husband.
Sextus Pompeius was in possession of Sicily, and with his ships, under
the command of Menas, the pirate, and Menecrates, so infested the
Italian coast, that no vessels durst venture into those seas. Sextus
had behaved with much humanity towards Antony, having received his
mother when she fled with Fulvia, and it was therefore judged fit that
he also should be received into the peace. They met near the promontory
of Misenum, by the mole of the port, Pompey having his fleet at anchor
close by, and Antony and Caesar their troops drawn up all along the
shore. There it was concluded that Sextus should quietly enjoy the
government of Sicily and Sardinia, he conditioning to scour the seas of
all pirates, and to send so much corn every year to Rome.
This agreed on, they invited one another to supper, and by lot it fell
to Pompey's turn to give the first entertainment, and Antony, asking
where it was to be, "There," said he, pointing to the admiral-galley, a
ship of six banks of oars, "that is the only house that Pompey is heir
to of his father's." And this he said, reflecting upon Antony, who was
then in possession of his father's house. Having fixed the ship on her
anchors, and formed a bridgeway from the promontory to conduct on board
of her, he gave them a cordial welcome. And when they began to grow
warm, and jests were passing freely on Antony and Cleopatra's loves,
Menas, the pirate, whispered Pompey in the ear, "Shall I," said he,
"cut the cables, and make you master not of Sicily only and Sardinia,
but of the whole Roman empire?" Pompey, having considered a little
while, returned him answer, "Menas, this might have been done without
acquainting me; now we must rest content; I do not break my word." And
so, having been entertained by the other two in their turns, he set
sail for Sicily.
After the treaty was completed, Antony dispatched Ventidius into Asia,
to check the advance of the Parthians, while he, as a compliment to
Caesar, accepted the office of priest to the deceased Caesar. And in
any state affair and matter of consequence, they both behaved
themselves with much consideration and friendliness for each other. But
it annoyed Antony, that in all their amusements, on any trial of skill
or fortune, Caesar should be constantly victorious. He had with him an
Egyptian diviner, one of those who calculate nativities, who, either to
make his court to Cleopatra, or that by the rules of his art he found
it to be so, openly declared to him, that though the fortune that
attended him was bright and glorious, yet it was overshadowed by
Caesar's; and advised him to keep himself as far distant as he could
from that young man; "for your Genius," said he, "dreads his; when
absent from him yours is proud and brave, but in his presence unmanly
and dejected;" and incidents that occurred appeared to show that the
Egyptian spoke truth. For whenever they cast lots for any playful
purpose, or threw dice, Antony was still the loser; and repeatedly,
when they fought game-cocks or quails, Caesar's had the victory. This
gave Antony a secret displeasure, and made him put the more confidence
in the skill of his Egyptian. So, leaving the management of his home
affairs to Caesar, he left Italy, and took Octavia, who had lately
borne him a daughter, along with him into Greece.
Here, whilst he wintered in Athens, he received the first news of
Ventidius's successes over the Parthians, of his having defeated them
in a battle, having slain Labienus and Pharnapates, the best general
their king, Hyrodes, possessed. For the celebrating of which he made a
public feast through Greece, and for the prizes which were contested at
Athens he himself acted as steward, and, leaving at home the ensigns
that are carried before the general, he made his public appearance in a
gown and white shoes, with the steward's wands marching before; and he
performed his duty in taking the combatants by the neck, to part them,
when they had fought enough.
When the time came for him to set out for the war, he took a garland
from the sacred olive, and, in obedience to some oracle, he filled a
vessel with the water of the Clepsydra, to carry along with him. In
this interval, Pacorus, the Parthian king's son, who was marching into
Syria with a large army, was met by Ventidius, who gave him battle in
the country of Cyrrhestica, slew a large number of his men, and Pacorus
among the first. This victory was one of the most renowned achievements
of the Romans, and fully avenged their defeats under Crassus, the
Parthians being obliged, after the loss of three battles successively,
to keep themselves within the bounds of Media and Mesopotamia.
Ventidius was not willing to push his good fortune further, for fear of
raising some jealousy in Antony, but, turning his arms against those
that had quitted the Roman interest, he reduced them to their former
obedience. Among the rest, he besieged Antiochus, king of Commagene, in
the city of Samosata, who made an offer of a thousand talents for his
pardon, and a promise of submission to Antony's commands. But Ventidius
told him that he must send to Antony, who was already on his march, and
had sent word to Ventidius to make no terms with Antiochus, wishing
that at any rate this one exploit might be ascribed to him, and that
people might not think that all his successes were won by his
lieutenants. The siege, however, was long protracted; for when those
within found their offers refused, they defended themselves stoutly,
till, at last, Antony, finding he was doing nothing, in shame and
regret for having refused the first offer, was glad to make an
accommodation with Antiochus for three hundred talents. And, having
given some orders for the affairs of Syria, he returned to Athens; and,
paying Ventidius the honors he well deserved, dismissed him to receive
his triumph. He is the only man that has ever yet triumphed for
victories obtained over the Parthians; he was of obscure birth, but, by
means of Antony's friendship, obtained an opportunity of showing his
capacity, and doing great things; and his making such glorious use of
it gave new credit to the current observation about Caesar and Antony,
that they were more fortunate in what they did by their lieutenants
than in their own persons. For Sossius, also, had great success, and
Canidius, whom he left in Armenia, defeated the people there, and also
the kings of the Albanians and Iberians, and marched victorious as far
as Caucasus, by which means the fame of Antony's arms had become great
among the barbarous nations.
He, however, once more, upon some unfavorable stories, taking offense
against Caesar, set sail with three hundred ships for Italy, and, being
refused admittance to the port of Brundusium, made for Tarentum. There
his wife Octavia, who came from Greece with him, obtained leave to
visit her brother, she being then great with child, having already
borne her husband a second daughter; and as she was on her way, she met
Caesar, with his two friends Agrippa and Maecenas, and, taking these
two aside, with great entreaties and lamentations she told them, that
of the most fortunate woman upon earth, she was in danger of becoming
the most unhappy; for as yet everyone's eyes were fixed upon her as the
wife and sister of the two great commanders, but, if rash counsels
should prevail, and war ensue, "I shall be miserable," said she,
"without redress; for on what side soever victory falls, I shall be
sure to be a loser." Caesar was overcome by these entreaties, and
advanced in a peaceable temper to Tarentum, where those that were
present beheld a most stately spectacle; a vast army drawn up by the
shore, and as great a fleet in the harbor, all without the occurrence
of any act of hostility; nothing but the salutations of friends, and
other expressions of joy and kindness, passing from one armament to the
other. Antony first entertained Caesar this also being a concession on
Caesar's part to his sister; and when at length an agreement was made
between them, that Caesar should give Antony two of his legions to
serve him in the Parthian war, and that Antony should in return leave
with him a hundred armed galleys, Octavia further obtained of her
husband, besides this, twenty light ships for her brother, and of her
brother, a thousand foot for her husband. So, having parted good
friends, Caesar went immediately to make war with Pompey to conquer
Sicily. And Antony, leaving in Caesar's charge his wife and children,
and his children by his former wife Fulvia, set sail for Asia.
But the mischief that thus long had lain still, the passion for
Cleopatra, which better thoughts had seemed to have lulled and charmed
into oblivion, upon his approach to Syria, gathered strength again, and
broke out into a flame. And, in fine, like Plato's restive and
rebellious horse of the human soul, flinging off all good and wholesome
counsel, and breaking fairly loose, he sends Fonteius Capito to bring
Cleopatra into Syria. To whom at her arrival he made no small or
trifling present, Phoenicia, Coele-Syria, Cyprus, great part of
Cilicia, that side of Judaea which produces balm, that part of Arabia
where the Nabathaeans extend to the outer sea; profuse gifts, which
much displeased the Romans. For, although he had invested several
private persons in great governments and kingdoms, and bereaved many
kings of theirs, as Antigonus of Judaea, whose head he caused to be
struck off (the first example of that punishment being inflicted on a
king), yet nothing stung the Romans like the shame of these honors paid
to Cleopatra. Their dissatisfaction was augmented also by his
acknowledging as his own the twin children he had by her, giving them
the name of Alexander and Cleopatra, and adding, as their surnames, the
titles of Sun and Moon. But he, who knew how to put a good color on the
most dishonest action, would say, that the greatness of the Roman
empire consisted more in giving than in taking kingdoms, and that the
way to carry noble blood through the world was by begetting in every
place a new line and series of kings; his own ancestor had thus been
born of Hercules; Hercules had not limited his hopes of progeny to a
single womb, nor feared any law like Solon's, or any audit of
procreation, but had freely let nature take her will in the foundation
and first commencement of many families.
After Phraates had killed his father Hyrodes, and taken possession of
his kingdom, many of the Parthians left their country; among the rest,
Monaeses, a man of great distinction and authority, sought refuge with
Antony, who, looking on his case as similar to that of Themistocles,
and likening his own opulence and magnanimity to those of the former
Persian kings, gave him three cities, Larissa, Arethusa, and
Hierapolis, which was formerly called Bambyce. But when the king of
Parthia soon recalled him, giving him his word and honor for his
safety, Antony was not unwilling to give him leave to return, hoping
thereby to surprise Phraates, who would believe that peace would
continue; for he only made the demand of him, that he should send back
the Roman ensigns which were taken when Crassus was slain, and the
prisoners that remained yet alive. This done, he sent Cleopatra into
Egypt, and marched through Arabia and Armenia; and, when his forces
came together, and were joined by those of his confederate kings (of
whom there were very many, and the most considerable, Artavasdes, king
of Armenia, who came at the head of six thousand horse and seven
thousand foot), he made a general muster. There appeared sixty thousand
Roman foot, ten thousand horse, Spaniards and Gauls, who counted as
Romans; and, of other nations, horse and foot, thirty thousand. And
these great preparations, that put the Indians beyond Bactria into
alarm, and made all Asia shake, were all, we are told, rendered useless
to him because of Cleopatra. For, in order to pass the winter with her,
the war was pushed on before its due time; and all he did was done
without perfect consideration, as by a man who had no proper control
over his faculties, who, under the effects of some drug or magic, was
still looking back elsewhere, and whose object was much more to hasten
his return than to conquer his enemies.
For, first of all, when he should have taken up his winter-quarters in
Armenia, to refresh his men, who were tired with long marches, having
come at least eight thousand furlongs, and then have taken the
advantage in the beginning of the spring to invade Media, before the
Parthians were out of winter-quarters, he had not patience to expect
his time, but marched into the province of Atropatene, leaving Armenia
on the left hand, and laid waste all that country. Secondly, his haste
was so great, that he left behind the engines absolutely required for
any siege, which followed the camp in three hundred wagons, and, among
the rest, a ram eighty feet long; none of which was it possible, if
lost or damaged, to repair or to make the like, as the provinces of the
upper Asia produce no trees long or hard enough for such uses.
Nevertheless, he left them all behind, as a mere impediment to his
speed, in the charge of a detachment under the command of Statianus,
the wagon-officer. He himself laid siege to Phraata, a principal city
of the king of Media, wherein were that king's wife and children. And
when actual need proved the greatness of his error in leaving the siege
train behind him, he had nothing for it but to come up and raise a
mound against the walls, with infinite labor and great loss of time.
Meantime Phraates, coming down with a large army, and hearing that the
wagons were left behind with the battering engines, sent a strong party
of horse, by which Statianus was surprised, he himself and ten thousand
of his men slain, the engines all broken in pieces, many taken
prisoners, and, among the rest, king Polemon.
This great miscarriage in the opening of the campaign much discouraged
Antony's army, and Artavasdes, king of Armenia, deciding that the Roman
prospects were bad, withdrew with all his forces from the camp,
although he had been the chief promoter of the war. The Parthians,
encouraged by their success, came up to the Romans at the siege, and
gave them many affronts; upon which Antony, fearing that the
despondency and alarm of his soldiers would only grow worse if he let
them lie idle, taking all the horse, ten legions, and three praetorian
cohorts of heavy infantry, resolved to go out and forage, designing by
this means to draw the enemy with more advantage to a battle. To effect
this, he marched a day's journey from his camp, and, finding the
Parthians hovering about, in readiness to attack him while he was in
motion, he gave orders for the signal of battle to be hung out in the
encampment, but, at the same time, pulled down the tents, as if he
meant not to fight, but to lead his men home again; and so he proceeded
to lead them past the enemy, who were drawn up in a half-moon, his
orders being that the horse should charge as soon as the legions were
come up near enough to second them. The Parthians, standing still while
the Romans marched by them, were in great admiration of their army, and
of the exact discipline it observed, rank after rank passing on at
equal distances in perfect order and silence, their pikes all ready in
their hands. But when the signal was given, and the horse turned short
upon the Parthians, and with loud cries charged them, they bravely
received them, though they were at once too near for bowshot; but the
legions, coming up with loud shouts and rattling of their arms, so
frightened their horses and indeed the men themselves, that they kept
their ground no longer. Antony pressed them hard, in great hopes that
this victory should put an end to the war; the foot had them in pursuit
for fifty furlongs, and the horse for thrice that distance, and yet,
the advantage summed up, they had but thirty prisoners, and there were
but fourscore slain. So that they were all filled with dejection and
discouragement, to consider, that when they were victorious, their
advantage was so small, and that when they were beaten, they lost so
great a number of men as they had done when the carriages were taken.
The next day, having put the baggage in order, they marched back to the
camp before Phraata, in the way meeting with some scattering troops of
the enemy, and, as they marched further, with greater parties, at
length with the body of the enemy's army, fresh and in good order, who
called them to battle, and charged them on every side, and it was not
without great difficulty that they reached the camp. There Antony,
finding that his men had in a panic deserted the defense of the mound,
upon a sally of the Medes, resolved to proceed against them by
decimation, as it is called, which is done by dividing the soldiers
into tens, and, out of every ten, putting one to death, as it happens
by lot. The rest he gave orders should have, instead of wheat, their
rations of corn in barley.
The war was now become grievous to both parties, and the prospect of
its continuance yet more fearful to Antony, in respect that he was
threatened with famine; for he could no longer forage without wounds
and slaughter. And Phraates, on the other side, was full of
apprehension that, if the Romans were to persist in carrying on the
siege, the autumnal equinox being past and the air already closing in
for cold, he should be deserted by his soldiers, who would suffer
anything rather than wintering in open field. To prevent which, he had
recourse to the following deceit: he gave order to those of his men who
had made most acquaintance among the Roman soldiers, not to pursue too
close when they met them foraging, but to suffer them to carry off some
provision; moreover, that they should praise their valor, and declare
that it was not without just reason that their king looked upon the
Romans as the bravest men in the world. This done, upon further
opportunity they rode nearer in, and, drawing up their horses by the
men, began to revile Antony for his obstinacy; that whereas Phraates
desired nothing more than peace, and an occasion to show how ready he
was to save the lives of so many brave soldiers, he, on the contrary,
gave no opening to any friendly offers, but sat awaiting the arrival of
the two fiercest and worst enemies, winter and famine, from whom it
would be hard for them to make their escape, even with all the
good-will of the Parthians to help them. Antony, having these reports
from many hands, began to indulge the hope; nevertheless, he would not
send any message to the Parthian till he had put the question to these
friendly talkers, whether what they said was said by order of their
king. Receiving answer that it was, together with new encouragement to
believe them, he sent some of his friends to demand once more the
standards and prisoners, lest, if he should ask nothing, he might be
supposed to be too thankful to have leave to retreat in quiet. The
Parthian king made answer, that as for the standards and prisoners, he
need not trouble himself; but if he thought fit to retreat, he might do
it when he pleased, in peace and safety. Some few days, therefore,
being spent in collecting the baggage, he set out upon his march. On
which occasion, though there was no man of his time like him for
addressing a multitude, or for carrying soldiers with him by the force
of words, out of shame and sadness he could not find in his heart to
speak himself, but employed Domitius Aenobarbus. And some of the
soldiers resented it, as an undervaluing of them; but the greater
number saw the true cause, and pitied it, and thought it rather a
reason why they on their side should treat their general with more
respect and obedience than ordinary.
Antony had resolved to return by the same way he came, which was
through a level country clear of all trees, but a certain Mardian came
to him (one that was very conversant with the manners of the Parthians,
and whose fidelity to the Romans had been tried at the battle where the
machines were lost), and advised him to keep the mountains close on his
right hand, and not to expose his men, heavily armed, in a broad, open,
riding country, to the attacks of a numerous army of light-horse and
archers; that Phraates with fair promises had persuaded him from the
siege on purpose that he might with more ease cut him off in his
retreat; but, if so he pleased, he would conduct him by a nearer route,
on which moreover he should find the necessaries for his army in
greater abundance. Antony upon this began to consider what was best to
be done; he was unwilling to seem to have any mistrust of the Parthians
after their treaty; but, holding it to be really best to march his army
the shorter and more inhabited way, he demanded of the Mardian some
assurance of his faith, who offered himself to be bound until the army
came safe into Armenia. Two days he conducted the army bound, and, on
the third, when Antony had given up all thought of the enemy, and was
marching at his ease in no very good order, the Mardian, perceiving the
bank of a river broken down, and the water let out and overflowing the
road by which they were to pass, saw at once that this was the
handiwork of the Parthians, done out of mischief, and to hinder their
march; so he advised Antony to be upon his guard, for that the enemy
was nigh at hand. And no sooner had he begun to put his men in order,
disposing the slingers and dart men in convenient intervals for
sallying out, but the Parthians came pouring in on all sides, fully
expecting to encompass them, and throw the whole army into disorder.
They were at once attacked by the light troops, whom they galled a good
deal with their arrows; but, being themselves as warmly entertained
with the slings and darts, and many wounded, they made their retreat.
Soon after, rallying up afresh, they were beat back by a battalion of
Gallic horse, and appeared no more that day.
By their manner of attack Antony seeing what to do, not only placed the
slings and darts as a rear guard, but also lined both flanks with them,
and so marched in a square battle, giving order to the horse to charge
and beat off the enemy, but not to follow them far as they retired. So
that the Parthians, not doing more mischief for the four ensuing days
than they received, began to abate in their zeal, and, complaining that
the winter season was much advanced, pressed for returning home.
But, on the fifth day, Flavius Gallus, a brave and active officer, who
had a considerable command in the army, came to Antony, desiring of him
some light-infantry out of the rear, and some horse out of the front,
with which he would undertake to do some considerable service. Which
when he had obtained, he beat the enemy back, not withdrawing, as was
usual, at the same time, and retreating upon the mass of the heavy
infantry, but maintaining his own ground, and engaging boldly. The
officers who commanded in the rear, perceiving how far he was getting
from the body of the army, sent to warn him back, but he took no notice
of them. It is said that Titius the quaestor snatched the standards and
turned them round, upbraiding Gallus with thus leading so many brave
men to destruction. But when he on the other side reviled him again,
and commanded the men that were about him to stand firm, Titius made
his retreat, and Gallus, charging the enemies in the front, was
encompassed by a party that fell upon his rear, which at length
perceiving, he sent a messenger to demand succor. But the commanders of
the heavy infantry, Canidius amongst others, a particular favorite of
Antony's, seem here to have committed a great oversight. For, instead
of facing about with the whole body, they sent small parties, and, when
they were defeated, they still sent out small parties, so that by their
bad management the rout would have spread through the whole army, if
Antony himself had not marched from the van at the head of the third
legion, and, passing this through among the fugitives, faced the
enemies, and hindered them from any further pursuit.
In this engagement were killed three thousand, five thousand were
carried back to the camp wounded, amongst the rest Gallus, shot through
the body with four arrows, of which wounds he died. Antony went from
tent to tent to visit and comfort the rest of them, and was not able to
see his men without tears and a passion of grief. They, however, seized
his hand with joyful faces, bidding him go and see to himself and not
be concerned about them, calling him their emperor and their general,
and saying that if he did well they were safe. For in short, never in
all these times can history make mention of a general at the head of a
more splendid army; whether you consider strength and youth, or
patience and sufferance in labors and fatigues; but as for the
obedience and affectionate respect they bore their general, and the
unanimous feeling amongst small and great alike, officers and common
soldiers, to prefer his good opinion of them to their very lives and
being, in this part of military excellence it was not possible that
they could have been surpassed by the very Romans of old. For this
devotion, as I have said before, there were many reasons, as the
nobility of his family, his eloquence, his frank and open manners, his
liberal and magnificent habits, his familiarity in talking with
everybody, and, at this time particularly, his kindness in assisting
and pitying the sick, joining in all their pains, and furnishing them
with all things necessary, so that the sick and wounded were even more
eager to serve than those that were whole and strong.
Nevertheless, this last victory had so encouraged the enemy, that,
instead of their former impatience and weariness, they began soon to
feel contempt for the Romans, staying all night near the camp, in
expectation of plundering their tents and baggage, which they concluded
they must abandon; and in the morning new forces arrived in large
masses, so that their number was grown to be not less, it is said, than
forty thousand horse; and the king had sent the very guards that
attended upon his own person, as to a sure and unquestioned victory.
For he himself was never present in any fight. Antony, designing to
harangue the soldiers, called for a mourning habit, that he might move
them the more, but was dissuaded by his friends; so he came forward in
the general's scarlet cloak, and addressed them, praising those that
had gained the victory, and reproaching those that had fled, the former
answering him with promises of success, and the latter excusing
themselves, and telling him they were ready to undergo decimation, or
any other punishment he should please to inflict upon them, only
entreating that he would forget and not discompose himself with their
faults. At which he lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed the gods,
that if to balance the great favors he had received of them any
judgment lay in store, they would pour it upon his head alone, and
grant his soldiers victory.
The next day they took better order for their march, and the Parthians,
who thought they were marching rather to plunder than to fight, were
much taken aback, when they came up and were received with a shower of
missiles, to find the enemy not disheartened, but fresh and resolute.
So that they themselves began to lose courage. But at the descent of a
hill where the Romans were obliged to pass, they got together, and let
fly their arrows upon them as they moved slowly down. But the
full-armed infantry, facing round, received the light troops within;
and those in the first rank knelt on one knee, holding their shields
before them, the next rank holding theirs over the first, and so again
others over these, much like the tiling of a house, or the rows of
seats in a theater, the whole affording sure defense against arrows,
which glance upon them without doing any harm. The Parthians, seeing
the Romans down upon their knees, could not imagine but that it must
proceed from weariness; so that they laid down their bows, and, taking
their spears, made a fierce onset, when the Romans, with a great cry,
leapt upon their feet, striking hand to hand with their javelins, slew
the foremost, and put the rest to flight. After this rate it was every
day, and the trouble they gave made the marches short; in addition to
which famine began to be felt in the camp, for they could get but
little corn, and that which they got they were forced to fight for;
and, besides this, they were in want of implements to grind it and make
bread. For they had left almost all behind, the baggage horses being
dead or otherwise employed in carrying the sick and wounded. Provision
was so scarce in the army that an Attic quart of wheat sold for fifty
drachmas, and barley loaves for their weight in silver. And when they
tried vegetables and roots, they found such as are commonly eaten very
scarce, so that they were constrained to venture upon any they could
get, and, among others, they chanced upon an herb that was mortal,
first taking away all sense and understanding. He that had eaten of it
remembered nothing in the world, and employed himself only in moving
great stones from one place to another, which he did with as much
earnestness and industry as if it had been a business of the greatest
consequence. Through all the camp there was nothing to be seen but men
grubbing upon the ground at stones, which they carried from place to
place. But in the end they threw up bile and died, as wine, moreover,
which was the one antidote, failed. When Antony saw them die so fast,
and the Parthian still in pursuit, he was heard to exclaim several
times over, "O, the Ten Thousand!" as if in admiration of the retreat
of the Greeks with Xenophon, who, when they had a longer journey to
make from Babylonia, and a more powerful enemy to deal with,
nevertheless came home safe.
The Parthians, finding that they could not divide the Roman army, nor
break the order of their battle, and that withal they had been so often
worsted, once more began to treat the foragers with professions of
humanity; they came up to them with their bows unbended, telling them
that they were going home to their houses; that this was the end of
their retaliation, and that only some Median troops would follow for
two or three days, not with any design to annoy them, but for the
defense of some of the villages further on. And, saying this, they
saluted them and embraced them with a great show of friendship. This
made the Romans full of confidence again, and Antony, on hearing of it,
was more disposed to take the road through the level country, being
told that no water was to be hoped for on that through the mountains.
But while he was preparing thus to do, Mithridates came into the camp,
a cousin to Monaeses, of whom we related that he sought refuge with the
Romans, and received in gift from Antony the three cities. Upon his
arrival, he desired somebody might be brought to him that could speak
Syriac or Parthian. One Alexander, of Antioch, a friend of Antony's,
was brought to him, to whom the stranger, giving his name, and
mentioning Monaeses as the person who desired to do the kindness, put
the question, did he see that high range of hills, pointing at some
distance. He told him, yes. "It is there," said he, "the whole Parthian
army lie in wait for your passage; for the great plains come
immediately up to them, and they expect that, confiding in their
promises, you will leave the way of the mountains, and take the level
route. It is true that in passing over the mountains you will suffer
the want of water, and the fatigue to which you have become familiar,
but if you pass through the plains, Antony must expect the fortune of
Crassus."
This said, he departed. Antony, in alarm, calling his friends in
council, sent for the Mardian guide, who was of the same opinion. He
told them that, with or without enemies, the want of any certain track
in the plain, and the likelihood of their losing their way, were quite
objection enough; the other route was rough and without water, but then
it was but for a day. Antony, therefore, changing his mind, marched
away upon this road that night, commanding that everyone should carry
water sufficient for his own use; but most of them being unprovided
with vessels, they made shift with their helmets, and some with skins.
As soon as they started, the news of it was carried to the Parthians,
who followed them, contrary to their custom, through the night, and at
sunrise attacked the rear, which was tired with marching and want of
sleep, and not in condition to make any considerable defense. For they
had got through two hundred and forty furlongs that night, and at the
end of such a march to find the enemy at their heels, put them out of
heart. Besides, having to fight for every step of the way increased
their distress from thirst. Those that were in the van came up to a
river, the water of which was extremely cool and clear, but brackish
and medicinal, and, on being drunk, produced immediate pains in the
bowels and a renewed thirst. Of this the Mardian had forewarned them,
but they could not forbear, and, beating back those that opposed them,
they drank of it. Antony ran from one place to another, begging they
would have a little patience, that not far off there was a river of
wholesome water, and that the rest of the way was so difficult for the
horse, that the enemy could pursue them no further; and, saying this,
he ordered to sound a retreat to call those back that were engaged, and
commanded the tents should be set up, that the soldiers might at any
rate refresh themselves in the shade.
But the tents were scarce well put up, and the Parthians beginning,
according to their custom, to withdraw, when Mithridates came again to
them, and informed Alexander, with whom he had before spoken, that he
would do well to advise Antony to stay where he was no longer than
needs he must, that, after having refreshed his troops, he should
endeavor with all diligence to gain the next river, that the Parthians
would not cross it, but so far they were resolved to follow them.
Alexander made his report to Antony, who ordered a quantity of gold
plate to be carried to Mithridates, who, taking as much as be could
well hide under his clothes, went his way. And, upon this advice,
Antony, while it was yet day, broke up his camp, and the whole army
marched forward without receiving any molestation from the Parthians,
though that night by their own doing was in effect the most wretched
and terrible that they passed. For some of the men began to kill and
plunder those whom they suspected to have any money, ransacked the
baggage, and seized the money there. In the end, they laid hands on
Antony's own equipage, and broke all his rich tables and cups, dividing
the fragments amongst them. Antony, hearing such a noise and such a
stirring to and fro all through the army, the belief prevailing that
the enemy had routed and cut off a portion of the troops, called for
one of his freedmen, then serving as one of his guards, Rhamnus by
name, and made him take an oath that, whenever he should give him
orders, he would run his sword through his body and cut off his head,
that he might not fall alive into the hands of the Parthians, nor, when
dead, be recognized as the general. While he was in this consternation,
and all his friends about him in tears, the Mardian came up, and gave
them all new life. He convinced them, by the coolness and humidity of
the air, which they could feel in breathing it, that the river which he
had spoken of was now not far off, and the calculation of the time that
had been required to reach it came, he said, to the same result, for
the night was almost spent. And, at the same time, others came with
information that all the confusion in the camp proceeded only from
their own violence and robbery among themselves. To compose this
tumult, and bring them again into some order after their distraction,
he commanded the signal to be given for a halt.
Day began to break, and quiet and regularity were just reappearing,
when the Parthian arrows began to fly among the rear, and the light
armed troops were ordered out to battle. And, being seconded by the
heavy infantry, who covered one another as before described with their
shields, they bravely received the enemy, who did not think convenient
to advance any further, while the van of the army, marching forward
leisurely in this manner came in sight of the river, and Antony,
drawing up the cavalry on the banks to confront the enemy, first passed
over the sick and wounded. And, by this time, even those who were
engaged with the enemy had opportunity to drink at their ease; for the
Parthians, on seeing the river, unbent their bows, and told the Romans
they might pass over freely, and made them great compliments in praise
of their valor. Having crossed without molestation, they rested
themselves awhile, and presently went forward, not giving perfect
credit to the fair words of their enemies. Six days after this last
battle, they arrived at the river Araxes, which divides Media and
Armenia, and seemed, both by its deepness and the violence of the
current, to be very dangerous to pass. A report, also, had crept in
amongst them, that the enemy was in ambush, ready to set upon them as
soon as they should be occupied with their passage. But when they were
got over on the other side, and found themselves in Armenia, just as if
land was now sighted after a storm at sea, they kissed the ground for
joy, shedding tears and embracing each other in their delight. But
taking their journey through a land that abounded in all sorts of
plenty, they ate, after their long want, with that excess of everything
they met with, that they suffered from dropsies and dysenteries.
Here Antony, making a review of his army, found that he had lost twenty
thousand foot and four thousand horse, of which the better half
perished, not by the enemy, but by diseases. Their march was of
twenty-seven days from Phraata, during which they had beaten the
Parthians in eighteen battles, though with little effect or lasting
result, because of their being so unable to pursue. By which it is
manifest that it was Artavasdes who lost Antony the benefit of the
expedition. For had the sixteen thousand horsemen whom he led away out
of Media, armed in the same style as the Parthians and accustomed to
their manner of fight, been there to follow the pursuit when the Romans
put them to flight, it is impossible they could have rallied so often
after their defeats, and reappeared again as they did to renew their
attacks. For this reason, the whole army was very earnest with Antony
to march into Armenia to take revenge. But he, with more reflection,
forbore to notice the desertion, and continued all his former
courtesies, feeling that the army was wearied out, and in want of all
manner of necessaries. Afterwards, however, entering Armenia, with
invitations and fair promises he prevailed upon Artavasdes to meet him,
when he seized him, bound him, and carried him to Alexandria, and there
led him in a triumph; one of the things which most offended the Romans,
who felt as if all the honors and solemn observances of their country
were, for Cleopatra's sake, handed over to the Egyptians.
This, however, was at an after time. For the present, marching his army
in great haste in the depth of winter through continual storms of snow,
he lost eight thousand of his men, and came with much diminished
numbers to a place called the White Village, between Sidon and Berytus,
on the seacoast, where he waited for the arrival of Cleopatra. And,
being impatient of the delay she made, he bethought himself of
shortening the time in wine and drunkenness, and yet could not endure
the tediousness of a meal, but would start from table and run to see if
she were coming. Till at last she came into port, and brought with her
clothes and money for the soldiers. Though some say that Antony only
received the clothes from her, and distributed his own money in her
name.
A quarrel presently happened between the king of Media and Phraates of
Parthia, beginning, it is said, about the division of the booty that
was taken from the Romans, and creating great apprehension in the
Median lest he should lose his kingdom. He sent, therefore, ambassadors
to Antony, with offers of entering into a confederate war against
Phraates. And Antony, full of hopes at being thus asked, as a favor, to
accept that one thing, horse and archers, the want of which had
hindered his beating the Parthians before, began at once to prepare for
a return to Armenia, there to join the Medes on the Araxes, and begin
the war afresh. But Octavia, in Rome, being desirous to see Antony,
asked Caesar's leave to go to him; which he gave her, not so much, say
most authors, to gratify his sister, as to obtain a fair pretense to
begin the war upon her dishonorable reception. She no sooner arrived at
Athens, but by letters from Antony she was informed of his new
expedition, and his will that she should await him there. And, though
she were much displeased, not being ignorant of the real reason of this
usage, yet she wrote to him to know to what place he would be pleased
she should send the things she had brought with her for his use; for
she had brought clothes for his soldiers, baggage, cattle, money, and
presents for his friends and officers, and two thousand chosen soldiers
sumptuously armed, to form praetorian cohorts. This message was brought
from Octavia to Antony by Niger, one of his friends, who added to it
the praises she deserved so well. Cleopatra, feeling her rival already,
as it were, at hand, was seized with fear, lest if to her noble life
and her high alliance, she once could add the charm of daily habit and
affectionate intercourse, she should become irresistible, and be his
absolute mistress for ever. So she feigned to be dying for love of
Antony, bringing her body down by slender diet; when he entered the
room, she fixed her eyes upon him in a rapture, and when he left,
seemed to languish and half faint away. She took great pains that he
should see her in tears, and, as soon as he noticed it, hastily dried
them up and turned away, as if it were her wish that he should know
nothing of it. All this was acting while he prepared for Media; and
Cleopatra's creatures were not slow to forward the design, upbraiding
Antony with his unfeeling, hard-hearted temper, thus letting a woman
perish whose soul depended upon him and him alone. Octavia, it was
true, was his wife, and had been married to him because it was found
convenient for the affairs of her brother that it should be so, and she
had the honor of the title; but Cleopatra, the sovereign queen of many
nations, had been contented with the name of his mistress, nor did she
shun or despise the character whilst she might see him, might live with
him, and enjoy him; if she were bereaved of this, she would not survive
the loss. In fine, they so melted and unmanned him, that, fully
believing she would die if he forsook her, he put off the war and
returned to Alexandria, deferring his Median expedition until next
summer, though news came of the Parthians being all in confusion with
intestine disputes. Nevertheless, he did some time after go into that
country, and made an alliance with the king of Media, by marriage of a
son of his by Cleopatra to the king's daughter, who was yet very young;
and so returned, with his thoughts taken up about the civil war.
When Octavia returned from Athens, Caesar, who considered she had been
injuriously treated, commanded her to live in a separate house; but she
refused to leave the house of her husband, and entreated him, unless he
had already resolved, upon other motives, to make war with Antony, that
he would on her account let it alone; it would be intolerable to have
it said of the two greatest commanders in the world, that they had
involved the Roman people in a civil war, the one out of passion for;
the other out of resentment about, a woman. And her behavior proved her
words to be sincere. She remained in Antony's house as if he were at
home in it, and took the noblest and most generous care, not only of
his children by her, but of those by Fulvia also. She received all the
friends of Antony that came to Rome to seek office or upon any
business, and did her utmost to prefer their requests to Caesar; yet
this her honorable deportment did but, without her meaning it, damage
the reputation of Antony; the wrong he did to such a woman made him
hated. Nor was the division he made among his sons at Alexandria less
unpopular; it seemed a theatrical piece of insolence and contempt of
his country. For, assembling the people in the exercise ground, and
causing two golden thrones to be placed on a platform of silver, the
one for him and the other for Cleopatra, and at their feet lower
thrones for their children, he proclaimed Cleopatra queen of Egypt,
Cyprus, Libya, and Coele-Syria, and with her conjointly Caesarion, the
reputed son of the former Caesar, who left Cleopatra with child. His
own sons by Cleopatra were to have the style of kings of kings; to
Alexander he gave Armenia and Media, with Parthia, so soon as it should
be overcome; to Ptolemy, Phoenicia, Syria, and Cilicia. Alexander was
brought out before the people in the Median costume, the tiara and
upright peak, and Ptolemy, in boots and mantle and Macedonian cap done
about with the diadem; for this was the habit of the successors of
Alexander, as the other was of the Medes and Armenians. And, as soon as
they had saluted their parents, the one was received by a guard of
Macedonians, the other by one of Armenians. Cleopatra was then, as at
other times when she appeared in public, dressed in the habit of the
goddess Isis, and gave audience to the people under the name of the New
Isis.
Caesar, relating these things in the senate, and often complaining to
the people, excited men's minds against Antony. And Antony also sent
messages of accusation against Caesar. The principal of his charges
were these: first, that he had not made any division with him of
Sicily, which was lately taken from Pompey; secondly, that he had
retained the ships he had lent him for the war; thirdly, that after
deposing Lepidus, their colleague, he had taken for himself the army,
governments, and revenues formerly appropriated to him; and, lastly,
that he had parceled out almost all Italy amongst his own soldiers, and
left nothing for his. Caesar's answer was as follows: that he had put
Lepidus out of government because of his own misconduct; that what he
had got in war he would divide with Antony, so soon as Antony gave him
a share of Armenia; that Antony's soldiers had no claims in Italy,
being in possession of Media and Parthia, the acquisitions which their
brave actions under their general had added to the Roman empire.
Antony was in Armenia when this answer came to him, and immediately
sent Canidius with sixteen legions towards the sea; but he, in the
company of Cleopatra, went to Ephesus, whither ships were coming in
from all quarters to form the navy, consisting, vessels of burden
included, of eight hundred vessels, of which Cleopatra furnished two
hundred, together with twenty thousand talents, and provision for the
whole army during the war. Antony, on the advice of Domitius and some
others, bade Cleopatra return into Egypt, there to expect the event of
the war; but she, dreading some new reconciliation by Octavia's means,
prevailed with Canidius, by a large sum of money, to speak in her favor
with Antony, pointing out to him that it was not just that one that
bore so great a part in the charge of the war should be robbed of her
share of glory in the carrying it on: nor would it be politic to
disoblige the Egyptians, who were so considerable a part of his naval
forces; nor did he see how she was inferior in prudence to any one of
the kings that were serving with him; she had long governed a great
kingdom by herself alone, and long lived with him, and gained
experience in public affairs. These arguments (so the fate that
destined all to Caesar would have it), prevailed; and when all their
forces had met, they sailed together to Samos, and held high
festivities. For, as it was ordered that all kings, princes, and
governors, all nations and cities within the limits of Syria, the
Maeotid Lake, Armenia, and Illyria, should bring or cause to be brought
all munitions necessary for war, so was it also proclaimed that all
stage-players should make their appearance at Samos; so that, while
pretty nearly the whole world was filled with groans and lamentations,
this one island for some days resounded with piping and harping,
theaters filling, and choruses playing. Every city sent an ox as its
contribution to the sacrifice, and the kings that accompanied Antony
competed who should make the most magnificent feasts and the greatest
presents; and men began to ask themselves, what would be done to
celebrate the victory, when they went to such an expense of festivity
at the opening of the war.
This over, he gave Priene to his players for a habitation, and set sail
for Athens, where fresh sports and play-acting employed him. Cleopatra,
jealous of the honors Octavia had received at Athens (for Octavia was
much beloved by the Athenians), courted the favor of the people with
all sorts of attentions. The Athenians, in requital, having decreed her
public honors, deputed several of the citizens to wait upon her at her
house; amongst whom went Antony as one, he being an Athenian citizen,
and he it was that made the speech. He sent orders to Rome to have
Octavia removed out of his house. She left it, we are told, accompanied
by all his children, except the eldest by Fulvia, who was then with his
father, weeping and grieving that she must be looked upon as one of the
causes of the war. But the Romans pitied, not so much her, as Antony
himself, and more particularly those who had seen Cleopatra, whom they
could report to have no way the advantage of Octavia either in youth or
in beauty.
The speed and extent of Antony's preparations alarmed Caesar, who
feared he might be forced to fight the decisive battle that summer. For
he wanted many necessaries, and the people grudged very much to pay the
taxes; freemen being called upon to pay a fourth part of their incomes,
and freed slaves an eighth of their property, so that there were loud
outcries against him, and disturbances throughout all Italy. And this
is looked upon as one of the greatest of Antony's oversights, that he
did not then press the war. For he allowed time at once for Caesar to
make his preparations, and for the commotions to pass over. For while
people were having their money called for, they were mutinous and
violent; but, having paid it, they held their peace. Titius and
Plancus, men of consular dignity and friends to Antony, having been ill
used by Cleopatra, whom they had most resisted in her design of being
present in the war, came over to Caesar, and gave information of the
contents of Antony's will, with which they were acquainted. It was
deposited in the hands of the vestal virgins, who refused to deliver it
up, and sent Caesar word, if he pleased, he should come and seize it
himself, which he did. And, reading it over to himself, he noted those
places that were most for his purpose, and, having summoned the senate,
read them publicly. Many were scandalized at the proceeding, thinking
it out of reason and equity to call a man to account for what was not
to be until after his death. Caesar specially pressed what Antony said
in his will about his burial; for he had ordered that even if he died
in the city of Rome, his body, after being carried in state through the
forum, should be sent to Cleopatra at Alexandria. Calvisius, a
dependent of Caesar's, urged other charges in connection with Cleopatra
against Antony; that he had given her the library of Pergamus,
containing two hundred thousand distinct volumes; that at a great
banquet, in the presence of many guests, he had risen up and rubbed her
feet, to fulfill some wager or promise; that he had suffered the
Ephesians to salute her as their queen; that he had frequently at the
public audience of kings and princes received amorous messages written
in tablets made of onyx and crystal, and read them openly on the
tribunal; that when Furnius, a man of great authority and eloquence
among the Romans, was pleading, Cleopatra happening to pass by in her
chair, Antony started up and left them in the middle of their cause, to
follow at her side and attend her home.
Calvisius, however, was looked upon as the inventor of most of these
stories. Antony's friends went up and down the city to gain him credit,
and sent one of themselves, Geminius, to him, to beg him to take heed
and not allow himself to be deprived by vote of his authority, and
proclaimed a public enemy to the Roman state. But Geminius no sooner
arrived in Greece but he was looked upon as one of Octavia's spies; at
their suppers he was made a continual butt for mockery, and was put to
sit in the least honorable places; all which he bore very well, seeking
only an occasion of speaking with Antony. So, at supper, being told to
say what business he came about, he answered he would keep the rest for
a soberer hour, but one thing he had to say, whether full or fasting,
that all would go well if Cleopatra would return to Egypt. And on
Antony showing his anger at it, "You have done well, Geminius," said
Cleopatra, "to tell your secret without being put to the rack." So
Geminius, after a few days, took occasion to make his escape and go to
Rome. Many more of Antony's friends were driven from him by the
insolent usage they had from Cleopatra's flatterers, amongst whom were
Marcus Silanus and Dellius the historian. And Dellius says he was
afraid of his life, and that Glaucus, the physician, informed him of
Cleopatra's design against him. She was angry with him for having said
that Antony's friends were served with sour wine, while at Rome
Sarmentus, Caesar's little page (his delicia, as the Romans call it),
drank Falernian.
As soon as Caesar had completed his preparations, he had a decree made,
declaring war on Cleopatra, and depriving Antony of the authority which
he had let a woman exercise in his place. Caesar added that he had
drunk potions that had bereaved him of his senses, and that the
generals they would have to fight with would be Mardion the eunuch,
Pothinus, Iras, Cleopatra's hairdressing girl, and Charmion, who were
Antony's chief state-councillors.
These prodigies are said to have announced the war. Pisaurum, where
Antony had settled a colony, on the Adriatic sea, was swallowed up by
an earthquake; sweat ran from one of the marble statues of Antony at
Alba for many days together, and, though frequently wiped off, did not
stop. When he himself was in the city of Patrae, the temple of Hercules
was struck by lightning, and, at Athens, the figure of Bacchus was torn
by a violent wind out of the Battle of the Giants, and laid flat upon
the theater; with both which deities Antony claimed connection,
professing to be descended from Hercules, and from his imitating
Bacchus in his way of living having received the name of Young Bacchus.
The same whirlwind at Athens also brought down, from amongst many
others which were not disturbed, the colossal statues of Eumenes and
Attalus, which were inscribed with Antony's name. And in Cleopatra's
admiral-galley, which was called the Antonias, a most inauspicious omen
occurred. Some swallows had built in the stern of the galley, but other
swallows came, beat the first away, and destroyed their nests.
When the armaments gathered for the war, Antony had no less than five
hundred ships of war, including numerous galleys of eight and ten banks
of oars, as richly ornamented as if they were meant for a triumph. He
had a hundred thousand foot and twelve thousand horse. He had vassal
kings attending, Bocchus of Libya, Tarcondemus of the Upper Cilicia,
Archelaus of Cappadocia, Philadelphus of Paphlagonia, Mithridates of
Commagene, and Sadalas of Thrace; all these were with him in person.
Out of Pontus Polemon sent him considerable forces, as did also Malchus
from Arabia, Herod the Jew, and Amyntas, king of Lycaonia and Galatia;
also the Median king sent some troops to join him. Caesar had two
hundred and fifty galleys of war, eighty thousand foot, and horse about
equal to the enemy. Antony's empire extended from Euphrates and Armenia
to the Ionian sea and the Illyrians; Caesar's, from Illyria to the
westward ocean, and from the ocean all along the Tuscan and Sicilian
sea. Of Africa, Caesar had all the coast opposite to Italy, Gaul, and
Spain, as far as the Pillars of Hercules, and Antony the provinces from
Cyrene to Ethiopia.
But so wholly was he now the mere appendage to the person of Cleopatra,
that, although he was much superior to the enemy in land-forces, yet,
out of complaisance to his mistress, he wished the victory to be gained
by sea, and that, too, when he could not but see how, for want of
sailors, his captains, all through unhappy Greece, were pressing every
description of men, common travelers and ass-drivers, harvest laborers
and boys, and for all this the vessels had not their complements, but
remained, most of them, ill-manned and badly rowed. Caesar, on the
other side, had ships that were built not for size or show, but for
service, not pompous galleys, but light, swift, and perfectly manned;
and from his head-quarters at Tarentum and Brundusium he sent messages
to Antony not to protract the war, but come out with his forces; he
would give him secure roadsteads and ports for his fleet, and, for his
land army to disembark and pitch their camp, he would leave him as much
ground in Italy, inland from the sea, as a horse could traverse in a
single course. Antony, on the other side, with the like bold language,
challenged him to a single combat, though he were much the older; and,
that being refused, proposed to meet him in the Pharsalian fields,
where Caesar and Pompey had fought before. But whilst Antony lay with
his fleet near Actium, where now stands Nicopolis, Caesar seized his
opportunity, and crossed the Ionian sea, securing himself at a place in
Epirus called the Ladle. And when those about Antony were much
disturbed, their land-forces being a good way off, "Indeed," said
Cleopatra, in mockery, "we may well be frightened if Caesar has got
hold of the Ladle!"
On the morrow, Antony, seeing the enemy sailing up, and fearing lest
his ships might be taken for want of the soldiers to go on board of
them, armed all the rowers, and made a show upon the decks of being in
readiness to fight; the oars were mounted as if waiting to be put in
motion, and the vessels themselves drawn up to face the enemy on either
side of the channel of Actium, as though they were properly manned, and
ready for an engagement And Caesar, deceived by this stratagem,
retired. He was also thought to have shown considerable skill in
cutting off the water from the enemy by some lines of trenches and
forts, water not being plentiful anywhere else, nor very good. And
again, his conduct to Domitius was generous, much against the will of
Cleopatra. For when he had made his escape in a little boat to Caesar,
having then a fever upon him, although Antony could not but resent it
highly, yet he sent after him his whole equipage, with his friends and
servants; and Domitius, as if he would give a testimony to the world
how repentant he had become on his desertion and treachery being thus
manifest, died soon after. Among the kings, also, Amyntas and Deiotarus
went over to Caesar. And the fleet was so unfortunate in everything
that was undertaken, and so unready on every occasion, that Antony was
driven again to put his confidence in the land-forces. Canidius, too,
who commanded the legions, when he saw how things stood, changed his
opinion, and now was of advice that Cleopatra should be sent back, and
that, retiring into Thrace or Macedonia, the quarrel should be decided
in a land fight. For Dicomes, also, the king of the Getae, promised to
come and join him with a great army, and it would not be any kind of
disparagement to him to yield the sea to Caesar, who, in the Sicilian
wars, had had such long practice in ship-fighting; on the contrary, it
would be simply ridiculous for Antony, who was by land the most
experienced commander living, to make no use of his well-disciplined
and numerous infantry, scattering and wasting his forces by parceling
them out in the ships. But for all this, Cleopatra prevailed that a
sea-fight should determine all, having already an eye to flight, and
ordering all her affairs, not so as to assist in gaining a victory, but
to escape with the greatest safety from the first commencement of a
defeat.
There were two long walls, extending from the camp to the station of
the ships, between which Antony used to pass to and fro without
suspecting any danger. But Caesar, upon the suggestion of a servant
that it would not be difficult to surprise him, laid an ambush, which,
rising up somewhat too hastily, seized the man that came just before
him, he himself escaping narrowly by flight.
When it was resolved to stand to a fight at sea, they set fire to all
the Egyptian ships except sixty; and of these the best and largest,
from ten banks down to three, he manned with twenty thousand full-armed
men, and two thousand archers. Here it is related that a foot captain,
one that had fought often under Antony, and had his body all mangled
with wounds, exclaimed, "O, my general, what have our wounds and swords
done to displease you, that you should give your confidence to rotten
timbers? Let Egyptians and Phoenicians contend at sea, give us the
land, where we know well how to die upon the spot or gain the victory."
To which he answered nothing, but, by his look and motion of his hand
seeming to bid him be of good courage, passed forwards, having already,
it would seem, no very sure hopes, since when the masters proposed
leaving the sails behind them, he commanded they should be put aboard,
"For we must not," said he, "let one enemy escape."
That day and the three following the sea was so rough they could not
engage. But on the fifth there was a calm, and they fought; Antony
commanding with Publicola the right, and Coelius the left squadron,
Marcus Octavius and Marcus Insteius the center. Caesar gave the charge
of the left to Agrippa, commanding in person on the right. As for the
land-forces, Canidius was general for Antony, Taurus for Caesar; both
armies remaining drawn up in order along the shore. Antony in a small
boat went from one ship to another, encouraging his soldiers, and
bidding them stand firm, and fight as steadily on their large ships as
if they were on land. The masters he ordered that they should receive
the enemy lying still as if they were at anchor, and maintain the
entrance of the port, which was a narrow and difficult passage. Of
Caesar they relate, that, leaving his tent and going round, while it
was yet dark, to visit the ships, he met a man driving an ass, and
asked him his name. He answered him that his own name was "Fortunate,
and my ass," says he, "is called Conqueror." And afterwards, when he
disposed the beaks of the ships in that place in token of his victory,
the statue of this man and his ass in bronze were placed amongst them.
After examining the rest of his fleet, he went in a boat to the right
wing, and looked with much admiration at the enemy lying perfectly
still in the straits, in all appearance as if they had been at anchor.
For some considerable length of time he actually thought they were so,
and kept his own ships at rest, at a distance of about eight furlongs
from them. But about noon a breeze sprang up from the sea, and Antony's
men, weary of expecting the enemy so long, and trusting to their large
tall vessels, as if they had been invincible, began to advance the left
squadron. Caesar was overjoyed to see them move, and ordered his own
right squadron to retire, that he might entice them out to sea as far
as he could, his design being to sail round and round, and so with his
light and well-manned galleys to attack these huge vessels, which their
size and their want of men made slow to move and difficult to manage.
When they engaged, there was no charging or striking of one ship by
another, because Antony's, by reason of their great bulk, were
incapable of the rapidity required to make the stroke effectual, and,
on the other side, Caesar's durst not charge head to head on Antony's,
which were all armed with solid masses and spikes of brass; nor did
they like even to run in on their sides, which were so strongly built
with great squared pieces of timber, fastened together with iron bolts,
that their vessels' beaks would easily have been shattered upon them.
So that the engagement resembled a land fight, or, to speak yet more
properly, the attack and defense of a fortified place; for there were
always three or four vessels of Caesar's about one of Antony's,
pressing them with spears, javelins, poles, and several inventions of
fire, which they flung among them, Antony's men using catapults also,
to pour down missiles from wooden towers. Agrippa drawing out the
squadron under his command to outflank the enemy, Publicola was obliged
to observe his motions, and gradually to break off from the middle
squadron, where some confusion and alarm ensued, while Arruntius
engaged them. But the fortune of the day was still undecided, and the
battle equal, when on a sudden Cleopatra's sixty ships were seen
hoisting sail and making out to sea in full flight, right through the
ships that were engaged. For they were placed behind the great ships,
which, in breaking through, they put into disorder. The enemy was
astonished to see them sailing off with a fair wind towards
Peloponnesus. Here it was that Antony showed to all the world that he
was no longer actuated by the thoughts and motives of a commander or a
man, or indeed by his own judgment at all, and what was once said as a
jest, that the soul of a lover lives in some one else's body, he proved
to be a serious truth. For, as if he had been born part of her, and
must move with her wheresoever she went, as soon as he saw her ship
sailing away, he abandoned all that were fighting and spending their
lives for him, and put himself aboard a galley of five ranks of oars,
taking with him only Alexander of Syria and Scellias, to follow her
that had so well begun his ruin and would hereafter accomplish it.
She, perceiving him to follow, gave the signal to come aboard. So, as
soon as he came up with them, he was taken into the ship. But without
seeing her or letting himself be seen by her, he went forward by
himself, and sat alone, without a word, in the ship's prow, covering
his face with his two hands. In the meanwhile, some of Caesar's light
Liburnian ships, that were in pursuit, came in sight. But on Antony's
commanding to face about, they all gave back except Eurycles the
Laconian, who pressed on, shaking a lance from the deck, as if he meant
to hurl it at him. Antony, standing at the prow, demanded of him, "Who
is this that pursues Antony?" "I am," said he, "Eurycles, the son of
Lachares, armed with Caesar's fortune to revenge my father's death."
Lachares had been condemned for a robbery, and beheaded by Antony's
orders. However, Eurycles did not attack Antony, but ran with his full
force upon the other admiral-galley (for there were two of them), and
with the blow turned her round, and took both her and another ship, in
which was a quantity of rich plate and furniture. So soon as Eurycles
was gone, Antony returned to his posture, and sat silent, and thus he
remained for three days, either in anger with Cleopatra, or wishing not
to upbraid her, at the end of which they touched at Taenarus. Here the
women of their company succeeded first in bringing them to speak, and
afterwards to eat and sleep together. And, by this time, several of the
ships of burden and some of his friends began to come in to him from
the rout, bringing news of his fleet's being quite destroyed, but that
the land-forces, they thought, still stood firm. So that he sent
messengers to Canidius to march the army with all speed through
Macedonia into Asia. And, designing himself to go from Taenarus into
Africa, he gave one of the merchant ships, laden with a large sum of
money, and vessels of silver and gold of great value, belonging to the
royal collections, to his friends, desiring them to share it amongst
them, and provide for their own safety. They refusing his kindness with
tears in their eyes, he comforted them with all the goodness and
humanity imaginable, entreating them to leave him, and wrote letters in
their behalf to Theophilus, his steward, at Corinth, that he would
provide for their security, and keep them concealed till such time as
they could make their peace with Caesar. This Theophilus was the father
of Hipparchus, who had such interest with Antony, who was the first of
all his freedmen that went over to Caesar, and who settled afterwards
at Corinth. In this posture were affairs with Antony.
But at Actium, his fleet, after a long resistance to Caesar, and
suffering the most damage from a heavy sea that set in right ahead,
scarcely, at four in the afternoon, gave up the contest, with the loss
of not more than five thousand men killed, but of three hundred ships
taken, as Caesar himself has recorded. Only few had known of Antony's
flight; and those who were told of it could not at first give any
belief to so incredible a thing, as that a general who had nineteen
entire legions and twelve thousand horse upon the sea-shore, could
abandon all and fly away; and he, above all, who had so often
experienced both good and evil fortune, and had in a thousand wars and
battles been inured to changes. His soldiers, howsoever would not give
up their desires and expectations, still fancying he would appear from
some part or other, and showed such a generous fidelity to his service,
that, when they were thoroughly assured that he was fled in earnest,
they kept themselves in a body seven days, making no account of the
messages that Caesar sent to them. But at last, seeing that Canidius
himself, who commanded them, was fled from the camp by night, and that
all their officers had quite abandoned them, they gave way, and made
their submission to the conqueror. After this, Caesar set sail for
Athens, where he made a settlement with Greece, and distributed what
remained of the provision of corn that Antony had made for his army
among the cities, which were in a miserable condition, despoiled of
their money, their slaves, their horses, and beasts of service. My
great-grandfather Nicarchus used to relate, that the whole body of the
people of our city were put in requisition to carry each one a certain
measure of corn upon their shoulders to the sea-side near Anticyra, men
standing by to quicken them with the lash. They had made one journey of
the kind, but when they had just measured out the corn and were putting
it on their backs for a second, news came of Antony's defeat, and so
saved Chaeronea, for all Antony's purveyors and soldiers fled upon the
news, and left them to divide the corn among themselves.
When Antony came into Africa, he sent on Cleopatra from Paraetonium
into Egypt, and stayed himself in the most entire solitude that he
could desire, roaming and wandering about with only two friends, one a
Greek, Aristocrates, a rhetorician, and the other a Roman, Lucilius, of
whom we have elsewhere spoken, how, at Philippi, to give Brutus time to
escape, he suffered himself to be taken by the pursuers, pretending he
was Brutus. Antony gave him his life, and on this account he remained
true and faithful to him to the last.
But when also the officer who commanded for him in Africa, to whose
care he had committed all his forces there, took them over to Caesar,
he resolved to kill himself, but was hindered by his friends. And
coming to Alexandria, he found Cleopatra busied in a most bold and
wonderful enterprise. Over the small space of land which divides the
Red Sea from the sea near Egypt, which may be considered also the
boundary between Asia and Africa, and in the narrowest place is not
much above three hundred furlongs across, over this neck of land
Cleopatra had formed a project of dragging her fleet, and setting it
afloat in the Arabian Gulf, thus with her soldiers and her treasure to
secure herself a home on the other side, where she might live in peace,
far away from war and slavery. But the first galleys which were carried
over being burnt by the Arabians of Petra, and Antony not knowing but
that the army before Actium still held together, she desisted from her
enterprise, and gave orders for the fortifying all the approaches to
Egypt. But Antony, leaving the city and the conversation of his
friends, built him a dwelling-place in the water, near Pharos, upon a
little mole which he cast up in the sea, and there, secluding himself
from the company of mankind, said he desired nothing but to live the
life of Timon; as, indeed, his case was the same, and the ingratitude
and injuries which he suffered from those he had esteemed his friends,
made him hate and mistrust all mankind.
This Timon was a citizen of Athens, and lived much about the
Peloponnesian war, as may be seen by the comedies of Aristophanes and
Plato, in which he is ridiculed as the hater and enemy of mankind. He
avoided and repelled the approaches of everyone, but embraced with
kisses and the greatest show of affection Alcibiades, then in his hot
youth. And when Apemantus was astonished, and demanded the reason, he
replied that he knew this young man would one day do infinite mischief
to the Athenians. He never admitted anyone into his company, except at
times this Apemantus, who was of the same sort of temper, and was an
imitator of his way of life. At the celebration of the festival of
flagons, these two kept the feast together, and Apemantus saying to
him, "What a pleasant party, Timon!" "It would be," he answered, "if
you were away." One day he got up in a full assembly on the speaker's
place, and when there was a dead silence and great wonder at so unusual
a sight, he said, "Ye men of Athens, I have a little plot of ground,
and in it grows a fig-tree, on which many citizens have been pleased to
hang themselves; and now, having resolved to build in that place, I
wished to announce it publicly that any of you who may be desirous may
go and hang yourselves before I cut it down." He died and was buried at
Halae, near the sea, where it so happened that, after his burial, a
land-slip took place on the point of the shore, and the sea, flowing
in, surrounded his tomb, and made it inaccessible to the foot of man.
It bore this inscription: --
Here am I laid, my life of misery done.
Ask not my name, I curse you every one.
And this epitaph was made by himself while yet alive; that which is
more generally known is by Callimachus: --
Timon, the misanthrope, am I below.
Go, and revile me, traveler, only go.
Thus much of Timon, of whom much more might be said. Canidius now came,
bringing word in person of the loss of the army before Actium. Then he
received news that Herod of Judaea was gone over to Caesar with some
legions and cohorts, and that the other kings and princes were in like
manner deserting him, and that, out of Egypt, nothing stood by him. All
this, however, seemed not to disturb him, but, as if he were glad to
put away all hope, that with it he might be rid of all care, and
leaving his habitation by the sea, which he called the Timoneum, he was
received by Cleopatra in the palace, and set the whole city into a
course of feasting, drinking, and presents. The son of Caesar and
Cleopatra was registered among the youths, and Antyllus, his own son by
Fulvia, received the gown without the purple border, given to those
that are come of age; in honor of which the citizens of Alexandria did
nothing but feast and revel for many days. They themselves broke up the
Order of the Inimitable Livers, and constituted another in its place,
not inferior in splendor, luxury, and sumptuosity, calling it that of
the Diers together. For all those that said they would die with Antony
and Cleopatra gave in their names, for the present passing their time
in all manner of pleasures and a regular succession of banquets. But
Cleopatra was busied in making a collection of all varieties of
poisonous drugs, and, in order to see which of them were the least
painful in the operation, she had them tried upon prisoners condemned
to die. But, finding that the quick poisons always worked with sharp
pains, and that the less painful were slow, she next tried venomous
animals, and watched with her own eyes whilst they were applied, one
creature to the body of another. This was her daily practice, and she
pretty well satisfied herself that nothing was comparable to the bite
of the asp, which, without convulsion or groaning, brought on a heavy
drowsiness and lethargy, with a gentle sweat on the face, the senses
being stupefied by degrees; the patient, in appearance, being sensible
of no pain, but rather troubled to be disturbed or awakened, like those
that are in a profound natural sleep.
At the same time, they sent ambassadors to Caesar into Asia, Cleopatra
asking for the kingdom of Egypt for her children, and Antony, that he
might have leave to live as a private man in Egypt, or, if that were
thought too much, that he might retire to Athens. In lack of friends,
so many having deserted, and others not being trusted, Euphronius, his
son's tutor, was sent on this embassy. For Alexas of Laodicea, who, by
the recommendation of Timagenes, became acquainted with Antony at Rome,
and had been more powerful with him than any Greek, and was, of all the
instruments which Cleopatra made use of to persuade Antony, the most
violent, and the chief subverter of any good thoughts that, from time
to time, might rise in his mind in Octavia's favor, had been sent
before to dissuade Herod from desertion; but, betraying his master,
stayed with him, and, confiding in Herod's interest, had the boldness
to come into Caesar's presence. Herod, however, was not able to help
him, for he was immediately put in chains, and sent into his own
country, where, by Caesar's order, he was put to death. This reward of
his treason Alexas received while Antony was yet alive.
Caesar would not listen to any proposals for Antony, but he made answer
to Cleopatra, that there was no reasonable favor which she might not
expect, if she put Antony to death, or expelled him from Egypt. He sent
back with the ambassadors his own freedman Thyrsus, a man of
understanding, and not at all ill-qualified for conveying the messages
of a youthful general to a woman so proud of her charms and possessed
with the opinion of the power of her beauty. But by the long audiences
he received from her, and the special honors which she paid him,
Antony's jealousy began to be awakened; he had him seized, whipped, and
sent back; writing Caesar word that the man's busy, impertinent ways
had provoked him; in his circumstances he could not be expected to be
very patient: "But if it offend you," he added, "you have got my
freedman, Hipparchus, with you; hang him up and scourge him to make us
even." But Cleopatra, after this, to clear herself, and to allay his
jealousies, paid him all the attentions imaginable. When her own
birthday came, she kept it as was suitable to their fallen fortunes;
but his was observed with the utmost prodigality of splendor and
magnificence, so that many of the guests sat down in want, and went
home wealthy men. Meantime, continual letters came to Caesar from
Agrippa, telling him his presence was extremely required at Rome.
And so the war was deferred for a season. But, the winter being over,
he began his march; he himself by Syria, and his captains through
Africa. Pelusium being taken, there went a report as if it had been
delivered up to Caesar by Seleucus not without the consent of
Cleopatra; but she, to justify herself, gave up into Antony's hands the
wife and children of Seleucus to be put to death. She had caused to be
built, joining to the temple of Isis, several tombs and monuments of
wonderful height, and very remarkable for the workmanship; thither she
removed her treasure, her gold, silver, emeralds, pearls, ebony, ivory,
cinnamon, and, after all, a great quantity of torchwood and tow. Upon
which Caesar began to fear lest she should, in a desperate fit, set all
these riches on fire; and, therefore, while he was marching towards the
city with his army, he omitted no occasion of giving her new assurances
of his good intentions. He took up his position in the Hippodrome,
where Antony made a fierce sally upon him, routed the horse, and beat
them back into their trenches, and so returned with great satisfaction
to the palace, where, meeting Cleopatra, armed as he was, he kissed
her, and commended to her favor one of his men, who had most signalized
himself in the fight, to whom she made a present of a breastplate and
helmet of gold; which he having received, went that very night and
deserted to Caesar.
After this, Antony sent a new challenge to Caesar, to fight him hand to
hand; who made him answer that he might find several other ways to end
his life; and he, considering with himself that he could not die more
honorably than in battle, resolved to make an effort both by land and
sea. At supper, it is said, he bade his servants help him freely, and
pour him out wine plentifully, since tomorrow, perhaps, they should not
do the same, but be servants to a new master, whilst he should lie on
the ground, a dead corpse, and nothing. His friends that were about him
wept to hear him talk so; which he perceiving, told them he would not
lead them to a battle in which he expected rather an honorable death
than either safety or victory. That night, it is related, about the
middle of it, when the whole city was in a deep silence and general
sadness, expecting the event of the next day, on a sudden was heard the
sound of all sorts of instruments, and voices singing in tune, and the
cry of a crowd of people shouting and dancing, like a troop of
bacchanals on its way. This tumultuous procession seemed to take its
course right through the middle of the city to the gate nearest the
enemy; here it became loudest, and suddenly passed out. People who
reflected considered this to signify that Bacchus, the god whom Antony
had always made it his study to copy and imitate, had now forsaken him.
As soon as it was light, he marched his infantry out of the city, and
posted them upon a rising ground, from whence he saw his fleet make up
to the enemy. There he stood in expectation of the event; but, as soon
as the fleets came near to one another, his men saluted Caesar's with
their oars; and, on their responding, the whole body of the ships,
forming into a single fleet, rowed up direct to the city. Antony had no
sooner seen this, but the horse deserted him, and went over to Caesar;
and his foot being defeated, he retired into the city, crying out that
Cleopatra had betrayed him to the enemies he had made for her sake.
She, being afraid lest in his fury and despair he might do her a
mischief, fled to her monument, and letting down the falling doors,
which were strong with bars and bolts, she sent messengers who should
tell Antony she was dead. He, believing it, cried out, "Now, Antony,
why delay longer? Fate has snatched away the only pretext for which you
could say you desired yet to live." Going into his chamber, and there
loosening and opening his coat of armor, "I am not," said he,
"troubled, Cleopatra, to be at present bereaved of you, for I shall
soon be with you; but it distresses me that so great a general should
be found of a tardier courage than a woman." He had a faithful servant,
whose name was Eros; he had engaged him formerly to kill him when he
should think it necessary, and now he put him to his promise. Eros drew
his sword, as designing to kill him, but, suddenly turning round, he
slew himself. And as he fell dead at his feet, "It is well done, Eros,"
said Antony; "you show your master how to do what you had not the heart
to do yourself;" and so he ran himself into the belly, and laid himself
upon the couch. The wound, however, was not immediately mortal; and the
flow of blood ceasing when he lay down, presently he came to himself,
and entreated those that were about him to put him out of his pain; but
they all fled out of the chamber, and left him crying out and
struggling, until Diomede, Cleopatra's secretary, came to him, having
orders from her to bring him into the monument.
When he understood she was alive, he eagerly gave order to the servants
to take him up, and in their arms was carried to the door of the
building. Cleopatra would not open the door, but, looking from a sort
of window, she let down ropes and cords, to which Antony was fastened;
and she and her two women, the only persons she had allowed to enter
the monument, drew him up. Those that were present say that nothing was
ever more sad than this spectacle, to see Antony, covered all over with
blood and just expiring, thus drawn up, still holding up his hands to
her, and lifting up his body with the little force he had left. As,
indeed, it was no easy task for the women; and Cleopatra, with all her
force, clinging to the rope, and straining with her head to the ground,
with difficulty pulled him up, while those below encouraged her with
their cries, and joined in all her effort and anxiety. When she had got
him up, she laid him on the bed, tearing all her clothes, which she
spread upon him; and, beating her breasts with her hands, lacerating
herself, and disfiguring her own face with the blood from his wounds,
she called him her lord, her husband, her emperor, and seemed to have
pretty nearly forgotten all her own evils, she was so intent upon his
misfortunes. Antony, stopping her lamentations as well as he could,
called for wine to drink, either that he was thirsty; or that he
imagined that it might put him the sooner out of pain. When he had
drunk, he advised her to bring her own affairs, so far as might be
honorably done, to a safe conclusion, and that, among all the friends
of Caesar, she should rely on Proculeius; that she should not pity him
in this last turn of fate, but rather rejoice for him in remembrance of
his past happiness, who had been of all men the most illustrious and
powerful, and, in the end, had fallen not ignobly, a Roman by a Roman
overcome.
Just as he breathed his last, Proculeius arrived from Caesar; for when
Antony gave himself his wound, and was carried in to Cleopatra, one of
his guards, Dercetaeus, took up Antony's sword and hid it; and, when he
saw his opportunity, stole away to Caesar, and brought him the first
news of Antony's death, and withal showed him the bloody sword. Caesar,
upon this, retired into the inner part of his tent, and, giving some
tears to the death of one that had been nearly allied to him in
marriage, his colleague in empire, and companion in so many wars and
dangers, he came out to his friends, and, bringing with him many
letters, he read to them with how much reason and moderation he had
always addressed himself to Antony, and in return what overbearing and
arrogant answers he received. Then he sent Proculeius to use his utmost
endeavors to get Cleopatra alive into his power; for he was afraid of
losing a great treasure, and, besides, she would be no small addition
to the glory of his triumph. She, however, was careful not to put
herself in Proculeius's power; but from within her monument, he
standing on the outside of a door, on the level of the ground, which
was strongly barred, but so that they might well enough hear one
another's voice, she held a conference with him; she demanding that her
kingdom might be given to her children, and he bidding her be of good
courage, and trust Caesar for everything.
Having taken particular notice of the place, he returned to Caesar, and
Gallus was sent to parley with her the second time; who, being come to
the door, on purpose prolonged the conference, while Proculeius fixed
his scaling-ladders in the window through which the women had pulled up
Antony. And so entering, with two men to follow him, he went straight
down to the door where Cleopatra was discoursing with Gallus. One of
the two women who were shut up in the monument with her cried out,
"Miserable Cleopatra, you are taken prisoner!" Upon which she turned
quick, and, looking at Proculeius, drew out her dagger, which she had
with her to stab herself. But Proculeius ran up quickly, and, seizing
her with both his hands, "For shame," said he, "Cleopatra; you wrong
yourself and Caesar much, who would rob him of so fair an occasion of
showing his clemency, and would make the world believe the most gentle
of commanders to be a faithless and implacable enemy." And so, taking
the dagger out of her hand, he also shook her dress to see if there
were any poison hid in it. After this, Caesar sent Epaphroditus, one of
his freedmen, with orders to treat her with all the gentleness and
civility possible, but to take the strictest precautions to keep her
alive.
In the meanwhile, Caesar made his entry into Alexandria, with Areius
the philosopher at his side, holding him by the hand and talking with
him; desiring that all his fellow-citizens should see what honor was
paid to him, and should look up to him accordingly from the very first
moment. Then, entering the exercise-ground, he mounted a platform
erected for the purpose, and from thence commanded the citizens (who,
in great fear and consternation, fell prostrate at his feet) to stand
up, and told them, that he freely acquitted the people of all blame,
first, for the sake of Alexander, who built their city; then, for the
city's sake itself, which was so large and beautiful; and, thirdly, to
gratify his friend Areius.
Such great honor did Areius receive from Caesar; and by his
intercession many lives were saved, amongst the rest that of
Philostratus, a man, of all the professors of logic that ever were, the
most ready in extempore speaking, but quite destitute of any right to
call himself one of the philosophers of the Academy. Caesar, out of
disgust at his character, refused all attention to his entreaties. So,
growing a long, white beard, and dressing himself in black, he followed
behind Areius, shouting out the verse,
The wise, if they are wise, will save the wise.
Which Caesar hearing, gave him his pardon, to prevent rather any odium
that might attach to Areius, than any harm that Philostratus might
suffer.
Of Antony's children, Antyllus, his son by Fulvia, being betrayed by
his tutor, Theodorus, was put to death; and while the soldiers were
cutting off his head, his tutor contrived to steal a precious jewel
which he wore about his neck, and put it into his pocket, and
afterwards denied the fact, but was convicted and crucified.
Cleopatra's children, with their attendants, had a guard set on them,
and were treated very honorably. Caesarion, who was reputed to be the
son of Caesar the Dictator, was sent by his mother, with a great sum of
money, through Ethiopia, to pass into India; but his tutor, a man named
Rhodon, about as honest as Theodorus, persuaded him to turn back, for
that Caesar designed to make him king. Caesar consulting what was best
to be done with him, Areius, we are told, said,
Too many Caesars are not well.
So, afterwards, when Cleopatra was dead, he was killed.
Many kings and great commanders made petition to Caesar for the body of
Antony, to give him his funeral rites; but he would not take away his
corpse from Cleopatra, by whose hands he was buried with royal splendor
and magnificence, it being granted to her to employ what she pleased on
his funeral. In this extremity of grief and sorrow, and having inflamed
and ulcerated her breasts with beating them, she fell into a high
fever, and was very glad of the occasion, hoping, under this pretext,
to abstain from food, and so to die in quiet without interference. She
had her own physician, Olympus, to whom she told the truth, and asked
his advice and help to put an end to herself, as Olympus himself has
told us, in a narrative which he wrote of these events. But Caesar,
suspecting her purpose, took to menacing language about her children,
and excited her fears for them, before which engines her purpose shook
and gave way, so that she suffered those about her to give her what
meat or medicine they pleased.
Some few days after, Caesar himself came to make her a visit and
comfort her. She lay then upon her pallet-bed in undress, and, on his
entering in, sprang up from off her bed, having nothing on but the one
garment next her body, and flung herself at his feet, her hair and face
looking wild and disfigured, her voice quivering, and her eyes sunk in
her head. The marks of the blows she had given herself were visible
about her bosom, and altogether her whole person seemed no less
afflicted than her soul. But, for all this, her old charm, and the
boldness of her youthful beauty had not wholly left her, and, in spite
of her present condition, still sparkled from within, and let itself
appear in all the movements of her countenance. Caesar, desiring her to
repose herself, sat down by her; and, on this opportunity, she said
something to justify her actions, attributing what she had done to the
necessity she was under, and to her fear of Antony; and when Caesar, on
each point, made his objections, and she found herself confuted, she
broke off at once into language of entreaty and deprecation, as if she
desired nothing more than to prolong her life. And at last, having by
her a list of her treasure, she gave it into his hands; and when
Seleucus, one of her stewards, who was by, pointed out that various
articles were omitted, and charged her with secreting them, she flew up
and caught him by the hair, and struck him several blows on the face.
Caesar smiling and withholding her, "Is it not very hard, Caesar," said
she, "when you do me the honor to visit me in this condition I am in,
that I should be accused by one of my own servants of laying by some
women's toys, not meant to adorn, be sure, my unhappy self, but that I
might have some little present by me to make your Octavia and your
Livia, that by their intercession I might hope to find you in some
measure disposed to mercy?" Caesar was pleased to hear her talk thus,
being now assured that she was desirous to live. And, therefore,
letting her know that the things she had laid by she might dispose of
as she pleased, and his usage of her should be honorable above her
expectation, he went away, well satisfied that he had overreached her,
but, in fact, was himself deceived.
There was a young man of distinction among Caesar's companions, named
Cornelius Dolabella. He was not without a certain tenderness for
Cleopatra, and sent her word privately, as she had besought him to do,
that Caesar was about to return through Syria, and that she and her
children were to be sent on within three days. When she understood
this, she made her request to Caesar that he would be pleased to permit
her to make oblations to the departed Antony; which being granted, she
ordered herself to be carried to the place where he was buried, and
there, accompanied by her women, she embraced his tomb with tears in
her eyes, and spoke in this manner: "O, dearest Antony," said she, "it
is not long since that with these hands I buried you; then they were
free, now I am a captive, and pay these last duties to you with a guard
upon me, for fear that my just griefs and sorrows should impair my
servile body, and make it less fit to appear in their triumph over you.
No further offerings or libations expect from me; these are the last
honors that Cleopatra can pay your memory, for she is to be hurried
away far from you. Nothing could part us whilst we lived, but death
seems to threaten to divide us. You, a Roman born, have found a grave
in Egypt; I, an Egyptian, am to seek that favor, and none but that, in
your country. But if the gods below, with whom you now are, either can
or will do anything (since those above have betrayed us), suffer not
your living wife to be abandoned; let me not be led in triumph to your
shame, but hide me and bury me here with you, since, amongst all my
bitter misfortunes, nothing has afflicted me like this brief time that
I have lived away from you."
Having made these lamentations, crowning the tomb with garlands and
kissing it, she gave orders to prepare her a bath, and, coming out of
the bath, she lay down and made a sumptuous meal. And a country fellow
brought her a little basket, which the guards intercepting and asking
what it was, the fellow put the leaves which lay uppermost aside, and
showed them it was full of figs; and on their admiring the largeness
and beauty of the figs, he laughed, and invited them to take some,
which they refused, and, suspecting nothing, bade him carry them in.
After her repast, Cleopatra sent to Caesar a letter which she had
written and sealed; and, putting everybody out of the monument but her
two women, she shut the doors. Caesar, opening her letter, and finding
pathetic prayers and entreaties that she might be buried in the same
tomb with Antony, soon guessed what was doing. At first he was going
himself in all haste, but, changing his mind, he sent others to see.
The thing had been quickly done. The messengers came at full speed, and
found the guards apprehensive of nothing; but on opening the doors,
they saw her stone-dead, lying upon a bed of gold, set out in all her
royal ornaments. Iras, one of her women, lay dying at her feet, and
Charmion, just ready to fall, scarce able to hold up her head, was
adjusting her mistress's diadem. And when one that came in said
angrily, "Was this well done of your lady, Charmion?" "Extremely well,"
she answered, "and as became the descendant of so many kings"; and as
she said this, she fell down dead by the bedside.
Some relate that an asp was brought in amongst those figs and covered
with the leaves, and that Cleopatra had arranged that it might settle
on her before she knew, but, when she took away some of the figs and
saw it, she said, "So here it is," and held out her bare arm to be
bitten. Others say that it was kept in a vase, and that she vexed and
pricked it with a golden spindle till it seized her arm. But what
really took place is known to no one. Since it was also said that she
carried poison in a hollow bodkin, about which she wound her hair; yet
there was not so much as a spot found, or any symptom of poison upon
her body, nor was the asp seen within the monument; only something like
the trail of it was said to have been noticed on the sand by the sea,
on the part towards which the building faced and where the windows
were. Some relate that two faint puncture-marks were found on
Cleopatra's arm, and to this account Caesar seems to have given credit;
for in his triumph there was carried a figure of Cleopatra, with an asp
clinging to her. Such are the various accounts. But Caesar, though much
disappointed by her death, yet could not but admire the greatness of
her spirit, and gave order that her body should he buried by Antony
with royal splendor and magnificence. Her women, also, received
honorable burial by his directions. Cleopatra had lived nine and thirty
years, during twenty-two of which she had reigned as queen, and for
fourteen had been Antony's partner in his empire. Antony, according to
some authorities, was fifty-three, according to others, fifty-six years
old. His statues were all thrown down, but those of Cleopatra were left
untouched; for Archibius, one of her friends, gave Caesar two thousand
talents to save them from the fate of Antony's.
Antony left by his three wives seven children, of whom only Antyllus,
the eldest, was put to death by Caesar; Octavia took the rest, and
brought them up with her own. Cleopatra, his daughter by Cleopatra, was
given in marriage to Juba, the most accomplished of kings; and Antony,
his son by Fulvia, attained such high favor, that whereas Agrippa was
considered to hold the first place with Caesar, and the sons of Livia
the second, the third, without dispute, was possessed by Antony.
Octavia, also, having had by her first husband, Marcellus, two
daughters, and one son named Marcellus, this son Caesar adopted, and
gave him his daughter in marriage; as did Octavia one of the daughters
to Agrippa. But Marcellus dying almost immediately after his marriage,
she, perceiving that her brother was at a loss to find elsewhere any
sure friend to be his son-in-law, was the first to recommend that
Agrippa should put away her daughter and marry Julia. To this Caesar
first, and then Agrippa himself, gave assent; so Agrippa married Julia,
and Octavia, receiving her daughter, married her to the young Antony.
Of the two daughters whom Octavia had borne to Antony, the one was
married to Domitius Ahenobarbus; and the other, Antonia, famous for her
beauty and discretion, was married to Drusus, the son of Livia, and
step-son to Caesar. Of these parents were born Germanicus and Claudius.
Claudius reigned later; and of the children of Germanicus, Caius, after
a reign of distinction, was killed with his wife and child; Agrippina,
after bearing a son, Lucius Domitius, to Ahenobarbus, was married to
Claudius Caesar, who adopted Domitius, giving him the name of Nero
Germanicus. He was emperor in our time, and put his mother to death,
and with his madness and folly came not far from ruining the Roman
empire, being Antony's descendant in the fifth generation.
COMPARISON OF DEMETRIUS AND ANTONY
As both are great examples of the vicissitudes of fortune, let us first
consider in what way they attained their power and glory. Demetrius
heired a kingdom already won for him by Antigonus, the most powerful of
the Successors, who, before Demetrius grew to be a man, traversed with
his armies and subdued the greater part of Asia. Antony's father was
well enough in other respects, but was no warrior, and could bequeath
no great legacy of reputation to his son, who had the boldness,
nevertheless, to take upon him the government, to which birth gave him
no claim, which had been held by Caesar, and became the inheritor of
his great labors. And such power did he attain, with only himself to
thank for it, that, in a division of the whole empire into two
portions, he took and received the nobler one; and, absent himself, by
his mere subalterns and lieutenants often defeated the Parthians, and
drove the barbarous nations of the Caucasus back to the Caspian Sea.
Those very things that procured him ill-repute bear witness to his
greatness. Antigonus considered Antipater's daughter Phila, in spite of
the disparity of her years, an advantageous match for Demetrius. Antony
was thought disgraced by his marriage with Cleopatra, a queen superior
in power and glory to all, except Arsaces, who were kings in her time.
Antony was so great as to be thought by others worthy of higher things
than his own desires.
As regards the right and justice of their aims at empire, Demetrius
need not be blamed for seeking to rule a people that had always had a
king to rule them. Antony, who enslaved the Roman people, just
liberated from the rule of Caesar, followed a cruel and tyrannical
object. His greatest and most illustrious work, his successful war with
Brutus and Cassius, was done to crush the liberties of his country and
of his fellow-citizens. Demetrius, till he was driven to extremity,
went on, without intermission, maintaining liberty in Greece, and
expelling the foreign garrisons from the cities; not like Antony, whose
boast was to have slain in Macedonia those who had set up liberty in
Rome. As for the profusion and magnificence of his gifts, one point for
which Antony is lauded, Demetrius so far outdid them, that what he gave
to his enemies was far more than Antony ever gave to his friends.
Antony was renowned for giving Brutus honorable burial; Demetrius did
so to all the enemy's dead, and sent the prisoners back to Ptolemy with
money and presents.
Both were insolent in prosperity, and abandoned themselves to luxuries
and enjoyments. Yet it cannot be said that Demetrius, in his revelings
and dissipations, ever let slip the time for action; pleasures with him
attended only the superabundance of his ease, and his Lamia, like that
of the fable, belonged only to his playful, half-waking, half-sleeping
hours. When war demanded his attention, his spear was not wreathed with
ivy, nor his helmet redolent of unguents; he did not come out to battle
from the women's chamber, but, hushing the bacchanal shouts and putting
an end to the orgies, he became at once, as Euripides calls it, "the
minister of the unpriestly Mars;" and, in short, he never once incurred
disaster through indolence or self-indulgence. Whereas Antony, like
Hercules in the picture where Omphale is seen removing his club and
stripping him of his lion's skin, was over and over again disarmed by
Cleopatra, and beguiled away, while great actions and enterprises of
the first necessity fell, as it were, from his hands, to go with her to
the seashore of Canopus and Taphosiris, and play about. And in the end,
like another Paris, he left the battle to fly to her arms; or rather,
to say the truth, Paris fled when he was already beaten; Antony fled
first, and, to follow Cleopatra, abandoned his victory.
There was no law to prevent Demetrius from marrying several wives; from
the time of Philip and Alexander, it had become usual with Macedonian
kings, and he did no more than was done by Lysimachus and Ptolemy. And
those he married he treated honorably. But Antony, first of all, in
marrying two wives at once, did a thing which no Roman had ever allowed
himself; and then he drove away his lawful Roman wife to please the
foreign and unlawful woman. And so Demetrius incurred no harm at all;
Antony procured his ruin by his marriage. On the other hand, no
licentious act of Antony's can be charged with that impiety which marks
those of Demetrius. Historical writers tell us that the very dogs are
excluded from the whole Acropolis, because of their gross, uncleanly
habits. The very Parthenon itself saw Demetrius consorting with harlots
and debauching free women of Athens. The vice of cruelty, also, remote
as it seems from the indulgence of voluptuous desires, must be
attributed to him, who, in the pursuit of his pleasures, allowed, or to
say more truly, compelled the death of the most beautiful and most
chaste of the Athenians, who found no way but this to escape his
violence. In one word, Antony himself suffered by his excesses, and
other people by those of Demetrius.
In his conduct to his parents, Demetrius was irreproachable. Antony
gave up his mother's brother, in order that he might have leave to kill
Cicero, this itself being so cruel and shocking an act, that Antony
would hardly be forgiven if Cicero's death had been the price of this
uncle's safety. In respect of breaches of oaths and treaties, the
seizure of Artabazes, and the assassination of Alexander, Antony may
urge the plea which no one denies to be true, that Artabazes first
abandoned and betrayed him in Media; Demetrius is alleged by many to
have invented false pretexts for his act, and not to have retaliated
for injuries, but to have accused one whom he injured himself.
The achievements of Demetrius are all his own work. Antony's noblest
and greatest victories were won in his absence by his lieutenants. For
their final disasters they have both only to thank themselves; not,
however, in an equal degree. Demetrius was deserted, the Macedonians
revolted from him: Antony deserted others, and ran away while men were
fighting for him at the risk of their lives. The fault to be found with
the one is that he had thus entirely alienated the affections of his
soldiers; the other's condemnation is that he abandoned so much love
and faith as he still possessed. We cannot admire the death of either,
but that of Demetrius excites our greater contempt. He let himself
become a prisoner, and was thankful to gain a three years' accession of
life in captivity. He was tamed like a wild beast by his belly, and by
wine; Antony took himself out of the world in a cowardly, pitiful, and
ignoble manner, but, still in time to prevent the enemy having his
person in their power.
DION
If it be true, Sosius Senecio, that, as Simonides tells us,
"Of the Corinthians Troy does not complain"
for having taken part with the Achaeans in the siege, because the
Trojans also had Corinthians (Glaucus, who sprang from Corinth,)
fighting bravely on their side, so also it may be fairly said that
neither Romans nor Greeks can quarrel with the Academy, each nation
being equally represented in the following pair of lives, which will
give an account of Brutus and of Dion, -- Dion, who was Plato's own
hearer, and Brutus, who was brought up in his philosophy. They came
from one and the selfsame school, where they had been trained alike, to
run the race of honor; nor need we wonder that in the performance of
actions often most nearly allied and akin, they both bore evidence to
the truth of what their guide and teacher had said, that, without the
concurrence of power and success with justice and prudence, public
actions do not attain their proper, great, and noble character. For as
Hippomachus the wrestling-master affirmed, he could distinguish his
scholars at a distance. though they were but carrying meat from the
shambles, so it is very probable that the principles of those who have
had the same good education should appear with a resemblance in all
their actions, creating in them a certain harmony and proportion, at
once agreeable and becoming.
We may also draw a close parallel of the lives of the two men from
their fortunes, wherein chance, even more than their own designs, made
them nearly alike. For they were both cut off by an untimely death, not
being able to accomplish those ends which through many risks and
difficulties they aimed at. But, above all, this is most wonderful;
that by preternatural interposition both of them had notice given of
their approaching death by an unpropitious form, which visibly appeared
to them. Although there are people who utterly deny any such thing, and
say that no man in his right senses ever yet saw any supernatural
phantom or apparition, but that children only, and silly women, or men
disordered by sickness, in some aberration of the mind or
distemperature of the body, have had empty and extravagant
imaginations, whilst the real evil genius, superstition, was in
themselves. Yet if Dion and Brutus, men of solid understanding, and
philosophers, not to be easily deluded by fancy or discomposed by any
sudden apprehension, were thus affected by visions, that they forthwith
declared to their friends what they had seen, I know not how we can
avoid admitting again the utterly exploded opinion of the oldest times,
that evil and beguiling spirits, out of an envy to good men, and a
desire of impeding their good deeds, make efforts to excite in them
feelings of terror and distraction, to make them shake and totter in
their virtue, lest by a steady and unbiased perseverance they should
obtain a happier condition than these beings after death. But I shall
leave these things for another opportunity, and, in this twelfth book
of the lives of great men compared one with another, begin with his who
was the elder.
Dionysius the First, having possessed himself of the government, at
once took to wife the daughter of Hermocrates, the Syracusan. She, in
an outbreak which the citizens made before the new power was well
settled, was abused in such a barbarous and outrageous manner, that for
shame she put an end to her own life. But Dionysius, when he was
reestablished and confirmed in his supremacy, married two wives
together, one named Doris, of Locri, the other, Aristomache, a native
of Sicily, and daughter of Hipparinus, a man of the first quality in
Syracuse, and colleague with Dionysius when he was first chosen general
with unlimited powers for the war. It is said he married them both in
one day, and no one ever knew which of the two he first made his wife;
and ever after he divided his kindness equally between them, both
accompanying him together at his table, and in his bed by turns.
Indeed, the Syracusans were urgent that their own countrywoman might be
preferred before the stranger; but Doris, to compensate for her foreign
extraction; had the good fortune to be the mother of the son and heir
of the family, whilst Aristomache continued a long time without issue,
though Dionysius was very desirous to have children by her, and,
indeed, caused Doris's mother to be put to death, laying to her charge
that she had given drugs to Aristomache, to prevent her being with
child.
Dion, Aristomache's brother, at first found an honorable reception for
his sister's sake; but his own worth and parts soon procured him a
nearer place in his brother-in-law's affection, who, among other
favors, gave special command to his treasurers to furnish Dion with
whatever money he demanded, only telling him on the same day what they
had delivered out. Now, though Dion was before reputed a person of
lofty character; of a noble mind, and daring courage, yet these
excellent qualifications all received a great development from the
happy chance which conducted Plato into Sicily; not assuredly by any
human device or calculation, but some supernatural power, designing
that this remote cause should hereafter occasion the recovery of the
Sicilians' lost liberty and the subversion of the tyrannical
government, brought the philosopher out of Italy to Syracuse, and made
acquaintance between him and Dion. Dion was, indeed, at this time
extremely young in years, but of all the scholars that attended Plato
he was the quickest and aptest to learn, and the most prompt and eager
to practice, the lessons of virtue, as Plato himself reports of him,
and his own actions sufficiently testify. For though he had been bred
up under a tyrant in habits of submission, accustomed to a life, on the
one hand of servility and intimidation, and yet on the other of vulgar
display and luxury, the mistaken happiness of people that knew no
better thing than pleasure and self-indulgence, yet, at the first taste
of reason and a philosophy that demands obedience to virtue, his soul
was set in a flame, and in the simple innocence of youth, concluding,
from his own disposition, that the same reasons would work the same
effects upon Dionysius, he made it his business, and at length obtained
the favor of him, at a leisure hour, to hear Plato.
At this their meeting, the subject-matter of their discourse in general
was human virtue, but, more particularly, they disputed concerning
fortitude, which Plato proved tyrants, of all men, had the least
pretense to; and thence proceeding to treat of justice, asserted the
happy estate of the just, and the miserable condition of the unjust;
arguments which Dionysius would not hear out, but, feeling himself, as
it were, convicted by his words, and much displeased to see the rest of
the auditors full of admiration for the speaker and captivated with his
doctrine, at last, exceedingly exasperated, he asked the philosopher in
a rage, what business he had in Sicily. To which Plato answered, "I
came to seek a virtuous man." "It seems then," replied Dionysius, "you
have lost your labor." Dion, supposing, that this was all, and that
nothing further could come of his anger, at Plato's request, conveyed
him aboard a galley, which was conveying Pollis, the Spartan, into
Greece. But Dionysius privately dealt with Pollis, by all means to kill
Plato in the voyage; if not, to be sure to sell him for a slave: he
would, of course, take no harm of it, being the same just man as
before; he would enjoy that happiness, though he lost his liberty.
Pollis, therefore, it is stated, carried Plato to Aegina, and there
sold him; the Aeginetans, then at war with Athens, having made a decree
that whatever Athenian was taken on their coasts should forthwith be
exposed to sale. Notwithstanding, Dion was not in less favor and credit
with Dionysius than formerly, but was entrusted with the most
considerable employments, and sent on important embassies to Carthage,
in the management of which he gained very great reputation. Besides,
the usurper bore with the liberty he took to speak his mind freely, he
being the only man who upon any occasion durst boldly say what he
thought, as, for example, in the rebuke he gave him about Gelon.
Dionysius was ridiculing Gelon's government, and, alluding to his name,
said, he had been the laughing-stock of Sicily. While others seemed to
admire and applaud the quibble, Dion very warmly replied,
"Nevertheless, it is certain that you are sole governor here, because
you were trusted for Gelon's sake; but for your sake no man will ever
hereafter be trusted again." For, indeed, Gelon had made a monarchy
appear the best, whereas Dionysius had convinced men that it was the
worst, of governments.
Dionysius had three children by Doris, and by Aristomache four, two of
which were daughters, Sophrosyne and Arete. Sophrosyne was married to
his son Dionysius; Arete, to his brother Thearides, after whose death,
Dion received his niece Arete to wife. Now when Dionysius was sick and
like to die, Dion endeavored to speak with him in behalf of the
children he had by Aristomache, but was still prevented by the
physicians, who wanted to ingratiate themselves with the next
successor, who also, as Timaeus reports, gave him a sleeping potion
which he asked for, which produced an insensibility only followed by
his death.
Nevertheless, at the first council which the young Dionysius held with
his friends, Dion discoursed so well of the present state of affairs,
that he made all the rest appear in their politics but children, and in
their votes rather slaves than counselors, who timorously and
disingenuously advised what would please the young man, rather than
what would advance his interest. But that which startled them most was
the proposal he made to avert the imminent danger they feared of a war
with the Carthaginians, undertaking, if Dionysius wanted peace, to sail
immediately over into Africa, and conclude it there upon honorable
terms; but, if he rather preferred war, then he would fit out and
maintain at his own cost and charges fifty galleys ready for the
service.
Dionysius wondered much at his greatness of mind, and received his
offer with satisfaction. But the other courtiers, thinking his
generosity reflected upon them, and jealous of being lessened by his
greatness, from hence took all occasions by private slanders to render
him obnoxious to the young man's displeasure; as if he designed by his
power at sea to surprise the government, and by the help of those naval
forces confer the supreme authority upon his sister Aristomache's
children. But, indeed, the most apparent and the strongest grounds for
dislike and hostility existed already in the difference of his habits,
and his reserved and separate way of living. For they, who, from the
beginning, by flatteries and all unworthy artifices, courted the favor
and familiarity of the prince, youthful and voluptuously bred,
ministered to his pleasures, and sought how to find him daily some new
amours and occupy him in vain amusements, with wine or with women, and
in other dissipations; by which means, the tyranny, like iron softened
in the fire, seemed, indeed, to the subject to be more moderate and
gentle, and to abate somewhat of its extreme severity; the edge of it
being blunted, not by the clemency, but rather the sloth and degeneracy
of the sovereign, whose dissoluteness, gaining ground daily, and
growing upon him, soon weakened and broke those "adamantine chains,"
with which his father, Dionysius, said he had left the monarchy
fastened and secured. It is reported of him, that, having begun a
drunken debauch, he continued it ninety days without intermission; in
all which time no person on business was allowed to appear, nor was any
serious conversation heard at court, but drinking, singing, dancing.
and buffoonery reigned there without control.
It is likely then they had little kindness for Dion, who never indulged
himself in any youthful pleasure or diversion. And so his very virtues
were the matter of their calumnies, and were represented under one or
other plausible name as vices; they called his gravity pride, his
plain-dealing self-will, the good advice he gave was all construed into
reprimand, and he was censured for neglecting and scorning those in
whose misdemeanors he declined to participate. And to say the truth,
there was in his natural character something stately, austere,
reserved, and unsociable in conversation, which made his company
unpleasant and disagreeable not only to the young tyrant, whose ears
had been corrupted by flatteries; many also of Dion's own intimate
friends, though they loved the integrity and generosity of his temper,
yet blamed his manner, and thought he treated those with whom he had to
do, less courteously and affably than became a man engaged in civil
business. Of which Plato also afterwards wrote to him; and, as it were,
prophetically advised him carefully to avoid an arbitrary temper, whose
proper helpmate was a solitary life. And, indeed, at this very time,
though circumstances made him so important, and, in the danger of the
tottering government, he was recognized as the only or the ablest
support of it, yet he well understood that he owed not his high
position to any good-will or kindness, but to the mere necessities of
the usurper.
And, supposing the cause of this to be ignorance and want of education,
he endeavored to induce the young man into a course of liberal studies,
and to give him some knowledge of moral truths and reasonings, hoping
he might thus lose his fear of virtuous living, and learn to take
pleasure in laudable actions. Dionysius, in his own nature, was not one
of the worst kind of tyrants, but his father, fearing that if he should
come to understand himself better, and converse with wise and
reasonable men, he might enter into some design against him, and
dispossess him of his power, kept him closely shut up at home; where,
for want of other company, and ignorant how to spend his time better,
he busied himself in making little chariots, candlesticks, stools,
tables, and other things of wood. For the elder Dionysius was so
diffident and suspicious, and so continually on his guard against all
men, that he would not so much as let his hair be trimmed with any
barber's or hair-cutter's instruments, but made one of his artificers
singe him with a live coal. Neither were his brother or his son allowed
to come into his apartment in the dress they wore, but they, as all
others, were stripped to their skins by some of the guard, and, after
being seen naked, put on other clothes before they were admitted into
the presence. When his brother Leptines was once describing the
situation of a place, and took a javelin from one of the guard to draw
the plan of it, he was extremely angry with him, and had the soldier
who gave him the weapon put to death. He declared, the more judicious
his friends were, the more he suspected them; because he knew, that
were it in their choice, they would rather be tyrants themselves than
the subjects of a tyrant. He slew Marsyas, one of his captains whom he
had preferred to a considerable command, for dreaming that he killed
him: without some previous waking thought and purpose of the kind, he
could not, he supposed, have had that fancy in his sleep. So timorous
was he, and so miserable a slave to his fears, yet very angry with
Plato, because he would not allow him to be the valiantest man alive.
Dion, as we said before, seeing the son thus deformed and spoilt in
character for want of teaching, exhorted him to study, and to use all
his entreaties to persuade Plato, the first of philosophers, to visit
him in Sicily, and; when he came, to submit himself to his direction
and advice: by whose instructions he might conform his nature to the
truths of virtue, and, living after the likeness of the Divine and
glorious Model of Being, out of obedience to whose control the general
confusion is changed into the beautiful order of the universe, so he in
like manner might be the cause of great happiness to himself and to all
his subjects, who, obliged by his justice and moderation, would then
willingly pay him obedience as their father, which now grudgingly, and
upon necessity, they are forced to yield him as their master. Their
usurping tyrant he would then no longer be, but their lawful king. For
fear and force, a great navy and standing army of ten thousand hired
barbarians are not, as his father had said, the adamantine chains which
secure the regal power, but the love, zeal, and affection inspired by
clemency and justice; which, though they seem more pliant than the
stiff and hard bonds of severity, are nevertheless the strongest and
most durable ties to sustain a lasting government. Moreover, it is mean
and dishonorable that a ruler, while careful to be splendid in his
dress, and luxurious and magnificent in his habitation, should, in
reason and power of speech, make no better show than the commonest of
his subjects, nor have the princely palace of his mind adorned
according to his royal dignity.
Dion frequently entertaining the king upon this subject, and, as
occasion offered, repeating some of the philosopher's sayings,
Dionysius grew impatiently desirous to have Plato's company, and to
hear him discourse. Forthwith, therefore, he sent letter upon letter to
him to Athens, to which Dion added his entreaties; also several
philosophers of the Pythagorean sect from Italy sent their
recommendations, urging him to come and obtain a hold upon this pliant,
youthful soul, which his solid and weighty reasonings might steady, as
it were, upon the seas of absolute power and authority. Plato, as he
tells us himself, out of shame more than any other feeling, lest it
should seem that he was all mere theory, and that of his own good-will
he would never venture into action, hoping withal, that if he could
work a cure upon one man, the head and guide of the rest, he might
remedy the distempers of the whole island of Sicily, yielded to their
requests.
But Dion's enemies, fearing an alteration in Dionysius, persuaded him
to recall from banishment Philistus, a man of learned education, and at
the same time of great experience in the ways of tyrants, and who might
serve as a counterpoise to Plato and his philosophy. For Philistus from
the beginning had been a great instrument in establishing the tyranny,
and for a long time had held the office of captain of the citadel.
There was a report, that he had been intimate with the mother of
Dionysius the first, and not without his privity. And when Leptines,
having two daughters by a married woman whom he had debauched, gave one
of them in marriage to Philistus, without acquainting Dionysius, he, in
great anger, put Leptines's mistress in prison, and banished Philistus
from Sicily. Whereupon, he fled to some of his friends on the Adriatic
coast, in which retirement and leisure it is probable he wrote the
greatest part of his history; for he returned not into his country
during the reign of that Dionysius.
But after his death, as is just related, Dion's enemies occasioned him
to be recalled home, as fitter for their purpose, and a firm friend to
the arbitrary government. And this, indeed, immediately upon his return
he set himself to maintain; and at the same time various calumnies and
accusations against Dion were by others brought to the king: as that he
held correspondence with Theodotes and Heraclides, to subvert the
government; as, doubtless, it is likely enough, that Dion had
entertained hopes, by the coming of Plato, to mitigate the rigid and
despotic severity of the tyranny, and to give Dionysius the character
of a fair and lawful governor; and had determined, if he should
continue averse to that, and were not to be reclaimed, to depose him,
and restore the commonwealth to the Syracusans; not that he approved a
democratic government, but thought it altogether preferable to a
tyranny, when a sound and good aristocracy could not be procured.
This was the state of affairs when Plato came into Sicily, who, at his
first arrival, was received with wonderful demonstration of kindness
and respect. For one of the royal chariots, richly ornamented, was in
attendance to receive him when he came on shore; Dionysius himself
sacrificed to the gods in thankful acknowledgment for the great
happiness which had befallen his government. The citizens, also, began
to entertain marvelous hopes of a speedy reformation, when they
observed the modesty which now ruled in the banquets, and the general
decorum which prevailed in all the court, their tyrant himself also
behaving with gentleness and humanity in all their matters of business
that came before him. There was a general passion for reasoning: and
philosophy, insomuch that the very palace, it is reported, was filled
with dust by the concourse of the students in mathematics who were
working their problems there. Some few days after, it was the time of
one of the Syracusan sacrifices, and when the priest, as he was wont,
prayed for the long and safe continuance of the tyranny, Dionysius, it
is said, as he stood by, cried out, "Leave off praying for evil upon
us." This sensibly vexed Philistus and his party, who conjectured, that
if Plato, upon such brief acquaintance, had so far transformed and
altered the young man's mind, longer converse and greater intimacy
would give him such influence and authority, that it would he
impossible to withstand him.
Therefore, no longer privately and apart, but jointly and in public,
all of them, they began to slander Dion, noising it about that he had
charmed and bewitched Dionysius by Plato's sophistry, to the end that
when he was persuaded voluntarily to part with his power, and lay down
his authority, Dion might take it up, and settle it upon his sister
Aristomache's children. Others professed to be indignant that the
Athenians, who formerly had come to Sicily with a great fleet and a
numerous land-army, and perished miserably without being able to take
the city of Syracuse, should now, by means of one sophister, overturn
the sovereignty of Dionysius; inveigling him to cashier his guard of
ten thousand lances, dismiss a navy of four hundred galleys, disband an
army of ten thousand horse and many times over that number of foot, and
go seek in the schools an unknown and imaginary bliss, and learn by the
mathematics how to be happy; while, in the meantime, the substantial
enjoyments of absolute power, riches, and pleasure would be handed over
to Dion and his sister's children.
By these means, Dion began to incur at first suspicion, and by degrees
more apparent displeasure and hostility. A letter, also, was
intercepted and brought to the young prince, which Dion had written to
the Carthaginian agents, advising them, that, when they treated with
Dionysius concerning the peace, they should not come to their audience
without communicating with him: they would not fail to obtain by this
means all that they wanted. When Dionysius had shown this to Philistus,
and consulted with him, as Timaeus relates, about it, he overreached
Dion by a feigned reconciliation, professing, after some fair and
reasonable expression of his feelings, that he was at friends with him,
and thus, leading him alone to the sea-side, under the castle wall, he
showed him the letter, and taxed him with conspiring with the
Carthaginians against him. And when Dion essayed to speak in his own
defense, Dionysius suffered him not; but immediately forced him aboard
a boat, which lay there for that purpose, and commanded the sailors to
set him ashore on the coast of Italy.
When this was publicly known, and was thought very hard usage, there
was much lamentation in the tyrant's own household on account of the
women, but the citizens of Syracuse encouraged themselves, expecting
that for his sake some disturbance would ensue; which, together with
the mistrust others would now feel, might occasion a general change and
revolution in the state. Dionysius, seeing this, took alarm, and
endeavored to pacify the women and others of Dion's kindred and
friends; assuring them that he had not banished, but only sent him out
of the way for a time, for fear of his own passion, which might be
provoked some day by Dion's self-will into some act which he should be
sorry for. He gave also two ships to his relations, with liberty to
send into Peloponnesus for him whatever of his property or servants
they thought fit.
Dion was very rich, and had his house furnished with little less than
royal splendor and magnificence. These valuables his friends packed up
and conveyed to him, besides many rich presents which were sent him by
the women and his adherents. So that, so far as wealth and riches went,
he made a noble appearance among the Greeks, and they might judge, by
the affluence of the exile, what was the power of the tyrant.
Dionysius immediately removed Plato into the castle, designing, under
color of an honorable and kind reception, to set a guard upon him, lest
he should follow Dion, and declare to the world in his behalf, how
injuriously he had been dealt with. And, moreover, time and
conversation (as wild beasts by use grow tame and tractable) had
brought Dionysius to endure Plato's company and discourse, so that he
began to love the philosopher, but with such an affection as had
something of the tyrant in it, requiring of Plato that he should, in
return of his kindness, love him only, and attend to him above all
other men; being ready to permit to his care the chief management of
affairs, and even the government, too, upon condition that he would not
prefer Dion's friendship before his. This extravagant affection was a
great trouble to Plato, for it was accompanied with petulant and
jealous humors, like the fond passions of those that are desperately in
love; frequently he was angry and fell out with him, and presently
begged and entreated to be friends again. He was beyond measure
desirous to be Plato's scholar, and to proceed in the study of
philosophy, and yet he was ashamed of it with those who spoke against
it and professed to think it would ruin him.
But a war about this time breaking out, he sent Plato away, promising
him in the summer to recall Dion, though in this he broke his word at
once; nevertheless, he remitted to him his revenues, desiring Plato to
excuse him as to the time appointed, because of the war, but, as soon
as he had settled a peace, he would immediately send for Dion,
requiring him in the interim to be quiet, and not raise any
disturbance, nor speak ill of him among the Grecians. This Plato
endeavored to effect, by keeping Dion with him in the Academy, and
busying him in philosophical studies.
Dion sojourned in the Upper Town of Athens, with Callippus, one of his
acquaintance; but for his pleasure he bought a seat in the country,
which afterwards, when he went into Sicily, he gave to Speusippus, who
had been his most frequent companion while he was at Athens, Plato so
arranging it, with the hope that Dion's austere temper might be
softened by agreeable company, with an occasional mixture of seasonable
mirth. For Speusippus was of the character to afford him this; we find
him spoken of in Timon's Silli, as "good at a jest." And Plato himself,
as it happened, being called upon to furnish a chorus of boys, Dion
took upon him the ordering and management of it, and defrayed the whole
expense, Plato giving him this opportunity to oblige the Athenians,
which was likely to procure his friend more kindness than himself
credit. Dion went also to see several other cities, visiting the
noblest and most statemanlike persons in Greece, and joining in their
recreations and entertainments in their times of festival. In all
which, no sort of vulgar ignorance, or tyrannic assumption, or
luxuriousness was remarked in him; but, on the contrary, a great deal
of temperance, generosity, and courage, and a well-becoming taste for
reasoning and philosophic discourses. By which means he gained the love
and admiration of all men, and in many cities had public honors decreed
him; the Lacedaemonians making him a citizen of Sparta, without regard
to the displeasure of Dionysius, though at that time he was aiding them
in their wars against the Thebans.
It is related that once, upon invitation, he went to pay a visit to
Ptoeodorus the Megarian, a man, it would seem, of wealth and
importance; and when, on account of the concourse of people about his
doors, and the press of business, it was very troublesome and difficult
to get access to him, turning about to his friends who seemed concerned
and angry at it, "What reason," said he, "have we to blame Ptoeodorus,
when we ourselves used to do no better when we were at Syracuse?"
After some little time, Dionysius, envying Dion, and jealous of the
favor and interest he had among the Grecians, put a stop upon his
incomes, and no longer sent him his revenues, making his own
commissioners trustees of the estate. But, endeavoring to obviate the
ill-will and discredit which, upon Plato's account, might accrue to him
among the philosophers, he collected in his court many reputed learned
men; and, ambitiously desiring to surpass them in their debates he was
forced to make use, often incorrectly, of arguments he had picked up
from Plato. And now he wished for his company again, repenting he had
not made better use of it when he had it, and had given no greater heed
to his admirable lessons. Like a tyrant, therefore, inconsiderate in
his desires, headstrong and violent in whatever he took a will to, on a
sudden he was eagerly set on the design of recalling him, and left no
stone unturned, but addressed himself to Archytas the Pythagorean (his
acquaintance and friendly relations with whom owed their origin to
Plato), and persuaded him to stand as surety for his engagements, and
to request Plato to revisit Sicily.
Archytas therefore sent Archedemus, and Dionysius some galleys, with
divers friends, to entreat his return; moreover, he wrote to him
himself expressly and in plain terms, that Dion must never look for any
favor or kindness, if Plato would not be prevailed with to come into
Sicily; but if Plato did come, Dion should be assured of whatever he
desired. Dion also received letters full of solicitations from his
sister and his wife, urging him to beg Plato to gratify Dionysius in
this request, and not give him an excuse for further ill-doing. So
that, as Plato says of himself, the third time he set sail for the
Strait of Scylla,
"Venturing again Charybdis's dangerous gulf."
This arrival brought great joy to Dionysius, and no less hopes to the
Sicilians, who were earnest in their prayers and good wishes that Plato
might get the better of Philistus, and philosophy triumph over tyranny.
Neither was he unbefriended by the women, who studied to oblige him;
and he had with Dionysius that peculiar credit which no man else ever
obtained, namely, liberty to come into his presence without being
examined or searched. When he would have given him a considerable sum
of money, and, on several repeated occasions, made fresh offers, which
Plato as often declined, Aristippus the Cyrenaean, then present, said
that Dionysius was very safe in his munificence, he gave little to
those who were ready to take all they could get, and a great deal to
Plato, who would accept of nothing.
After the first compliments of kindness were over, when Plato began to
discourse of Dion, he was at first diverted by excuses for delay,
followed soon after by complaints and disgusts, though not as yet
observable to others, Dionysius endeavoring to conceal them, and, by
other civilities and honorable usage, to draw him off from his
affection to Dion. And for some time Plato himself was careful not to
let anything of this dishonesty and breach of promise appear, but bore
with it, and dissembled his annoyance. While matters stood thus between
them, and, as they thought, they were unobserved and undiscovered,
Helicon the Cyzicenian, one of Plato's followers, foretold an eclipse
of the sun, which happened according to his prediction; for which he
was much admired by the tyrant, and rewarded with a talent of silver;
whereupon Aristippus, jesting with some others of the philosophers,
told them, he also could predict something extraordinary; and on their
entreating him to declare it, "I foretell," said he, "that before long
there will be a quarrel between Dionysius and Plato."
At length, Dionysius made sale of Dion's estate, and converted the
money to his own use, and removed Plato from an apartment he had in the
gardens of the palace to lodgings among the guards he kept in pay, who
from the first had hated Plato, and sought opportunity to make away
with him, supposing he advised Dionysius to lay down the government and
disband his soldiers.
When Archytas understood the danger he was in, he immediately sent a
galley with messengers to demand him of Dionysius; alleging that he
stood engaged for his safety, upon the confidence of which Plato had
come to Sicily. Dionysius, to palliate his secret hatred, before Plato
came away, treated him with great entertainments and all seeming
demonstrations of kindness, but could not forbear breaking out one day
into the expression, "No doubt, Plato, when you are at home among the
philosophers, your companions, you will complain of me, and reckon up a
great many of my faults." To which Plato answered with a smile, "The
Academy will never, I trust, be at such a loss for subjects to discuss
as to seek one in you." Thus, they say, Plato was dismissed; but his
own writings do not altogether agree with this account.
Dion was angry at all this, and not long after declared open enmity to
Dionysius, on hearing what had been done with his wife; on which matter
Plato, also, had had some confidential correspondence with Dionysius.
Thus it was. After Dion's banishment, Dionysius, when he sent Plato
back, had desired him to ask Dion privately, if he would be averse to
his wife's marrying another man, For there went a report, whether true,
or raised by Dion's enemies, that his marriage was not pleasing to him,
and that he lived with his wife on uneasy terms. When Plato therefore
came to Athens, and had mentioned the subject to Dion, he wrote a
letter to Dionysius, speaking of other matters openly, but on this in
language expressly designed to be understood by him alone, to the
effect that he had talked with Dion about the business, and that it was
evident he would highly resent the affront, if it should be put into
execution. At that time, therefore, while there were yet great hopes of
an accommodation, he took no new steps with his sister, suffering her
to live with Dion's child. But when things were come to that pass, that
no reconciliation could be expected, and Plato, after his second visit,
was again sent away in displeasure, he then forced Arete, against her
will, to marry Timocrates, one of his favorites; in this action coming
short even of his father's justice and lenity; for he, when Polyxenus,
the husband of his sister, Theste, became his enemy, and fled in alarm
out of Sicily, sent for his sister, and taxed her, that, being privy to
her husband's flight, she had not declared it to him. But the lady,
confident and fearless, made him this reply: "Do you believe me,
brother, so bad a wife, or so timorous a woman, that, having known my
husband's flight, I would not have borne him company, and shared his
fortunes? I knew nothing of it; since otherwise it had been my better
lot to be called the wife of the exile Polyxenus, than the sister of
the tyrant Dionysius." It is said, he admired her free and ready
answer, as did the Syracusans, also, her courage and virtue, insomuch
that she retained her dignity and princely retinue after the
dissolution of the tyranny, and, when she died, the citizens, by public
decree, attended the solemnity of her funeral. And the story, though a
digression from the present purpose, was well worth the telling.
From this time, Dion set his mind upon warlike measures; with which
Plato, out of respect for past hospitalities, and because of his age,
would have nothing to do. But Speusippus and the rest of his friends
assisted and encouraged him, bidding him deliver Sicily, which with
lift-up hands implored his help, and with open arms was ready to
receive him. For when Plato was staying at Syracuse, Speusippus, being
oftener than he in company with the citizens, had more thoroughly made
out how they were inclined; and though at first they had been on their
guard, suspecting his bold language, as though he had been set on by
the tyrant to trepan them, yet at length they trusted him. There was
but one mind and one wish or prayer among them all, that Dion would
undertake the design, and come, though without either navy, men, horse,
or arms; that he would simply put himself aboard any ship, and lend the
Sicilians his person and name against Dionysius. This information from
Speusippus encouraged Dion, who, concealing his real purpose, employed
his friends privately to raise what men they could; and many statesmen
and philosophers were assisting to him, as, for instance, Eudemus the
Cyprian, on whose death Aristotle wrote his Dialogue of the Soul, and
Timonides the Leucadian. They also engaged on his side Miltas the
Thessalian, who was a prophet, and had studied in the Academy. But of
all that were banished by Dionysius, who were not fewer than a
thousand, five and twenty only joined in the enterprise; the rest were
afraid, and abandoned it. The rendezvous was in the island Zacynthus,
where a small force of not quite eight hundred men came together, all
of them, however, persons already distinguished in plenty of previous
hard service, their bodies well trained and practiced, and their
experience and courage amply sufficient to animate and embolden to
action the numbers whom Dion expected to join him in Sicily.
Yet these men, when they first understood the expedition was against
Dionysius, were troubled and disheartened, blaming Dion, that, hurried
on like a madman by mere passion and despair, he rashly threw both
himself and them into certain ruin. Nor were they less angry with their
commanders and muster-masters, that they had not in the beginning let
them know the design. But when Dion in his address to them had set
forth the unsafe and weak condition of arbitrary government, and
declared that he carried them rather for commanders than soldiers, the
citizens of Syracuse and the rest of the Sicilians having been long
ready for a revolt, and when, after him, Alcimenes, an Achaean of the
highest birth and reputation, who accompanied the expedition, harangued
them to the same effect, they were contented.
It was now the middle of summer, and the Etesian winds blowing steadily
on the seas, the moon was at the full, when Dion prepared a magnificent
sacrifice to Apollo; and with great solemnity marched his soldiers to
the temple in all their arms and accouterments. And after the
sacrifice, he feasted them all in the race-course of the Zacynthians,
where he had made provision for their entertainment. And when here they
beheld with wonder the quantity and the richness of the gold and silver
plate, and the tables laid to entertain them, all far exceeding the
fortunes of a private man, they concluded with themselves, that a man
now past the prime of life, who was master of so much treasure, would
not engage himself in so hazardous an enterprise without good reason of
hope, and certain and sufficient assurances of aid from friends over
there. Just after the libations were made, and the accompanying prayers
offered, the moon was eclipsed; which was no wonder to Dion, who
understood the revolutions of eclipses, and the way in which the moon
is overshadowed and the earth interposed between her and the sun. But
because it was necessary that the soldiers, who were surprised and
troubled at it, should be satisfied and encouraged, Miltas the diviner,
standing up in the midst of the assembly, bade them be of good cheer,
and expect all happy success, for that the divine powers foreshowed
that something at present glorious and resplendent should be eclipsed
and obscured; nothing at this time being more splendid than the
sovereignty of Dionysius, their arrival in Sicily should dim this
glory, and extinguish this brightness. Thus Miltas, in public,
descanted upon the incident. But concerning a swarm of bees which
settled on the poop of Dion's ship, he privately told him and his
friends, that he feared the great actions they were like to perform,
though for a time they should thrive and flourish, would be of short
continuance, and soon suffer a decay. It is reported, also, that many
prodigies happened to Dionysius at that time. An eagle, snatching a
javelin from one of the guard, carried it aloft, and from thence let it
fall into the sea. The water of the sea that washed the castle walls
was for a whole day sweet and potable, as many that tasted it
experienced. Pigs were farrowed perfect in all their other parts, but
without ears. This the diviners declared to portend revolt and
rebellion, for that the subjects would no longer give ear to the
commands of their superiors. They expounded the sweetness of the water
to signify to the Syracusans a change from hard and grievous times into
easier and more happy circumstances. The eagle being the bird of
Jupiter, and the spear an emblem of power and command, this prodigy was
to denote that the chief of the gods designed the end and dissolution
of the present government. These things Theopompus relates in his
history.
Two ships of burden carried all Dion's men; a third vessel, of no great
size, and two galleys of thirty oars attended them. In addition to his
soldiers' own arms, he carried two thousand shields, a very great
number of darts and lances, and abundant stores of all manner of
provisions, that there might be no want of anything in their voyage;
their purpose being to keep out at sea during the whole voyage, and use
the winds, since all the land was hostile to them, and Philistus, they
had been told, was in Iapygia with a fleet, looking out for them.
Twelve days they sailed with a fresh and gentle breeze; on the
thirteenth, they made Pachynus, the Sicilian cape. There Protus, the
chief pilot, advised them to land at once and without delay, for if
they were forced again from the shore, and did not take advantage of
the headland, they might ride out at sea many nights and days, waiting
for a southerly wind in the summer season. But Dion, fearing a descent
too near his enemies, and desirous to begin at a greater distance, and
further on in the country, sailed on past Pachynus. They had not gone
far, before stress of weather, the wind blowing hard at north, drove
the fleet from the coast; and it being now about the time that Arcturus
rises, a violent storm of wind and rain came on, with thunder and
lightning, the mariners were at their wits' end, and ignorant what
course they ran, until on a sudden they found they were driving with
the sea on Cercina, the island on the coast of Africa, just where it is
most craggy and dangerous to run upon. Upon the cliffs there they
escaped narrowly of being forced and staved to pieces; but, laboring
hard at their oars, with much difficulty they kept clear until the
storm ceased. Then, lighting by chance upon a vessel, they understood
they were upon the Heads, as it is called, of the Great Syrtis; and
when they were now again disheartened by a sudden calm, and beating to
and fro without making any way, a soft air began to blow from the land,
when they expected anything rather than wind from the south and scarce
believed the happy change of their fortune. The gale gradually
increasing, and beginning to blow fresh, they clapped on all their
sails, and, praying to the gods, put out again into the open sea,
steering right from Africa for Sicily. And, running steady before the
wind, the fifth day they arrived at Minoa, a little town of Sicily, in
the dominion of the Carthaginians, of which Synalus, an acquaintance
and friend of Dion's, happened at that time to be governor; who, not
knowing it was Dion and his fleet, endeavored to hinder his men from
landing; but they rushed on shore with their swords in their hands, not
slaying any of their opponents (for this Dion had forbidden, because of
his friendship with the Carthaginians), but forced them to retreat,
and, following close, pressed in a body with them into the place, and
took it. As soon as the two commanders met, they mutually saluted each
other; Dion delivered up the place again to Synalus, without the least
damage done to anyone therein, and Synalus quartered and entertained
the soldiers, and supplied Dion with what he wanted.
They were most of all encouraged by the happy accident of Dionysius's
absence at this nick of time; for it appeared that he was lately gone
with eighty sail of ships to Italy. Therefore, when Dion was desirous
that the soldiers should refresh themselves there, after their tedious
and troublesome voyage, they would not be prevailed with, but, earnest
to make the best use of that opportunity, they urged Dion to lead them
straight on to Syracuse. Leaving therefore their baggage, and the arms
they did not use, Dion desired Synalus to convey them to him as he had
occasion, and marched directly to Syracuse.
The first that came in to him upon his march were two hundred horse of
the Agrigentines who were settled near Ecnomum, and, after them, the
Geloans. But the news soon flying to Syracuse, Timocrates, who had
married Dion's wife, the sister of Dionysius, and was the principal man
among his friends now remaining in the city, immediately dispatched a
courier to Dionysius with letters announcing Dion's arrival; while he
himself took all possible care to prevent any stir or tumult in the
city, where all were in great excitement, but as yet continued quiet,
fearing to give too much credit to what was reported. A very strange
accident happened to the messenger who was sent with the letters; for
being arrived in Italy, as he traveled through the land of Rhegium,
hastening to Dionysius at Caulonia, he met one of his acquaintance, who
was carrying home part of a sacrifice. He accepted a piece of the
flesh, which his friend offered him, and proceeded on his journey with
all speed; having traveled a good part of the night, and being through
weariness forced to take a little rest, he laid himself down in the
next convenient place he came to, which was in a wood near the road. A
wolf, scenting the flesh, came and seized it as it lay fastened to the
letter-bag, and with the flesh carried away the bag also, in which were
the letters to Dionysius. The man, awaking and missing his bag, sought
for it up and down a great while, and, not finding it, resolved not to
go to the king without his letters, but to conceal himself, and keep
out of the way.
Dionysius, therefore, came to hear of the war in Sicily from other
hands, and that a good while after. In the meantime, as Dion proceeded
in his march, the Camarineans joined his forces, and the country people
in the territory of Syracuse rose and joined him in a large body. The
Leontines and Campanians, who, with Timocrates, guarded the Epipolae,
receiving a false alarm which was spread on purpose by Dion, as if he
intended to attack their cities first, left Timocrates, and hastened
off to carry succor to their own homes. News of which being brought to
Dion, where he lay near Macrae, he raised his camp by night, and came
to the river Anapus, which is distant from the city about ten furlongs;
there he made a halt, and sacrificed by the river, offering vows to the
rising sun. The soothsayers declared that the gods promised him
victory; and they that were present, seeing him assisting at the
sacrifice with a garland on his head, one and all crowned themselves
with garlands. There were about five thousand that had joined his
forces in their march; who, though but ill-provided, with such weapons
as came next to hand, made up by zeal and courage for the want of
better arms; and when once they were told to advance, as if Dion were
already conqueror, they ran forward with shouts and acclamations,
encouraging each other with the hopes of liberty.
The most considerable men and better sort of the citizens of Syracuse,
clad all in white, met him at the gates. The populace set upon all that
were of Dionysius's party, and principally searched for those they
called setters or informers, a number of wicked and hateful wretches,
who made it their business to go up and down the city, thrusting
themselves into all companies, that they might inform Dionysius what
men said, and how they stood affected. These were the first that
suffered, being beaten to death by the crowd. Timocrates, not being
able to force his way to the garrison that kept the castle, took horse,
and fled out of the city, filling all the places where he came with
fear and confusion, magnifying the amount of Dion's forces, that he
might not be supposed to have deserted his charge without good reason
for it. By this time, Dion was come up, and appeared in the sight of
the people; he marched first in a rich suit of arms, and by him on one
hand his brother, Megacles, on the other, Callippus the Athenian,
crowned with garlands. Of the foreign soldiers, a hundred followed as
his guard, and their several officers led the rest in good order; the
Syracusans looking on and welcoming them, as if they believed the whole
to be a sacred and religious procession, to celebrate the solemn
entrance, after an absence of forty-eight years, of liberty and popular
government.
Dion entered by the Menitid gate, and, having by sound of trumpet
quieted the noise of the people, he caused proclamation to be made,
that Dion and Megacles, who were come to overthrow the tyrannical
government, did declare the Syracusans and all other Sicilians to be
free from the tyrant. But, being desirous to harangue the people
himself, he went up through the Achradina. The citizens on each side
the way brought victims for sacrifice, set out their tables and
goblets, and as he passed by each door threw flowers and ornaments upon
him, with vows and acclamations, honoring him as a god. There was under
the castle and the Pentapyla a lofty and conspicuous sundial, which
Dionysius had set up. Getting up upon the top of that, he made an
oration to the people, calling upon them to maintain and defend their
liberty; who, with great expressions of joy and acknowledgment, created
Dion and Megacles generals, with plenary powers, joining in commission
with them, at their desire and entreaty, twenty colleagues, of whom
half were of those that had returned with them out of banishment. It
seemed also to the diviners a most happy omen, that Dion, when he made
his address to the people, had under his feet the stately monument
which Dionysius had been at such pains to erect; but because it was a
sundial on which he stood when he was made general, they expressed some
fears that the great actions he had performed might be subject to
change, and admit some rapid turn and declination of fortune.
After this, Dion, taking the Epipolae, released the citizens who were
imprisoned there, and then raised a wall to invest the castle. Seven
days after, Dionysus arrived by sea, and got into the citadel, and
about the same time came carriages bringing the arms and ammunition
which Dion had left with Synalus. These he distributed among the
citizens; and the rest that wanted furnished themselves as well as they
could, and put themselves in the condition of zealous and serviceable
men-at-arms.
Dionysius sent agents, at first privately, to Dion, to try what terms
they could make with him. But he declaring that any overtures they had
to make must be made in public to the Syracusans as a free people,
envoys now went and came between the tyrant and the people, with fair
proposals, and assurances that they should have abatements of their
tributes and taxes, and freedom from the burdens of military
expeditions, all which should be made according to their own
approbation and consent with him. The Syracusans laughed at these
offers, and Dion returned answer to the envoys that Dionysius must not
think to treat with them upon any other terms but resigning the
government; which if he would actually do, he would not forget how
nearly he was related to him, or be wanting to assist him in procuring
oblivion for the past, and whatever else was reasonable and just.
Dionysius seemed to consent to this, and sent his agents again,
desiring some of the Syracusans to come into the citadel and discuss
with him in person the terms to which on each side they might be
willing, after fair debate, to consent. There were therefore some
deputed, such as Dion approved of; and the general rumor from the
castle was, that Dionysius would voluntarily resign his authority, and
rather do it himself as his own good deed, than let it be the act of
Dion. But this profession was a mere trick to amuse the Syracusans. For
he put the deputies that were sent to him in custody, and by break of
day, having first, to encourage his men, made them drink plentifully of
raw wine, he sent the garrison of mercenaries out to make a sudden
sally against Dion's works. The attack was quite unexpected, and the
barbarians set to work boldly with loud cries to pull down the
cross-wall, and assailed the Syracusans so furiously that they were not
able to maintain their post. Only a party of Dion's hired soldiers, on
first taking the alarm, advanced to the rescue; neither did they at
first know what to do, or how to employ the aid they brought, not being
able to hear the commands of their officers, amidst the noise and
confusion of the Syracusans, who fled from the enemy and ran in among
them, breaking through their ranks, until Dion, seeing none of his
orders could be heard, resolved to let them see by example what they
ought to do, and charged into the thickest of the enemy. The fight
about him was fierce and bloody, he being as well known by the enemy as
by his own party, and all running with loud cries to the quarter where
he fought. Though his time of life was no longer that of the bodily
strength and agility for such a combat, still his determination and
courage were sufficient to maintain him against all that attacked him;
but, while bravely driving them back, he was wounded in the hand with a
lance, his body armor also had been much battered, and was scarcely any
longer serviceable to protect him, either against missiles or blows
hand to hand. Many spears and javelins had passed into it through the
shield, and, on these being broken back, he fell to the ground, but was
immediately rescued, and carried off by his soldiers. The
command-in-chief he left to Timonides, and, mounting a horse, rode
about the city, rallying the Syracusans that fled; and, ordering up a
detachment of the foreign soldiers out of Achradina, where they were
posted on guard, he brought them as a fresh reserve, eager for battle,
upon the tired and failing enemy, who were already well inclined to
give up their design. For having hopes at their first sally to retake
the whole city, when beyond their expectation they found themselves
engaged with bold and practiced fighters, they fell back towards the
castle. As soon as they gave ground, the Greek soldiers pressed the
harder upon them, till they turned and fled within the walls. There
were lost in this action seventy-four of Dion's men, and a very great
number of the enemy. This being a signal victory, and principally
obtained by the valor of the foreign soldiers, the Syracusans rewarded
them in honor of it with a hundred minae, and the soldiers on their
part presented Dion with a crown of gold.
Soon after, there came heralds from Dionysius, bringing Dion letters
from the women of his family, and one addressed outside, "To his
father, from Hipparinus;" this was the name of Dion's son, though
Timaeus says, he was, from his mother Arete's name, called Aretaeus;
but I think credit is rather to be given to Timonides's report, who was
his father's fellow-soldier and confidant. The rest of the letters were
read publicly, containing many solicitations and humble requests of the
women; that professing to be from his son, the heralds would not have
them open publicly, but Dion, putting force upon them, broke the seal.
It was from Dionysius, written in the terms of it to Dion, but in
effect to the Syracusans, and so worded that, under a plausible
justification of himself and entreaty to him, means were taken for
rendering him suspected by the people. It reminded him of the good
service he had formerly done the usurping government, it added threats
to his dearest relations, his sister, son, and wife, if he did not
comply with the contents, also passionate demands mingled with
lamentations, and, most to the purpose of all, urgent recommendations
to him not to destroy the government, and put the power into the hands
of men who always hated him, and would never forget their old piques
and quarrels; let him take the sovereignty himself, and so secure the
safety of his family and his friends.
When this letter was read, the Syracusans were not, as they should have
been, transported with admiration at the unmovable constancy and
magnanimity of Dion, who withstood all his dearest interests to be true
to virtue and justice, but, on the contrary, they saw in this their
reason for fearing and suspecting that he lay under an invincible
necessity to be favorable to Dionysius; and they began therefore to
look out for other leaders, and the rather, because to their great joy
they received the news that Heraclides was on his way. This Heraclides
was one of those whom Dionysius had banished, very good soldier, and
well known for the commands he had formerly had under the tyrant; yet a
man of no constant purpose, of a fickle temper, and least of all to be
relied upon when he had to act with a colleague in any honorable
command. He had had a difference formerly with Dion in Peloponnesus,
and had resolved, upon his own means, with what ships and soldiers he
had, to make an attack upon Dionysius. When he arrived at Syracuse,
with seven galleys and three small vessels, he found Dionysius already
close besieged, and the Syracusans high and proud of their victories.
Forthwith, therefore, he endeavored by all ways to make himself
popular; and, indeed, he had in him naturally something that was very
insinuating and taking with a populace that loves to be courted. He
gained his end, also, the easier, and drew the people over to his side,
because of the dislike they had taken to Dion's grave and stately
manner, which they thought overbearing and assuming; their successes
having made them so careless and confident, that they expected popular
arts and flatteries from their leaders, before they had in reality
secured a popular government.
Getting therefore together in an irregular assembly, they chose
Heraclides their admiral; but when Dion came forward, and told them,
that conferring this trust upon Heraclides was in effect to withdraw
that which they had granted him, for he was no longer their
generalissimo if another had the command of the navy, they repealed
their order, and, though much against their wills, canceled the new
appointment. When this business was over, Dion invited Heraclides to
his house, and pointed out to him, in gentle terms, that he had not
acted wisely or well to quarrel with him upon a punctilio of honor, at
a time when the least false step might be the ruin of all; and then,
calling a fresh assembly of the people, he there named Heraclides
admiral, and prevailed with the citizens to allow him a life-guard, as
he himself had.
Heraclides openly professed the highest respect for Dion, and made him
great acknowledgments for this favor, attending him with all deference,
as ready to receive his commands; but underhand he kept up his dealings
with the populace and the unrulier citizens, unsettling their minds and
disturbing them with his complaints, and putting Dion into the utmost
perplexity and disquiet. For if he advised to give Dionysius leave to
quit the castle, he would be exposed to the imputation of sparing and
protecting him; if, to avoid giving offense or suspicion, he simply
continued the siege, they would say he protracted the war, to keep his
office of general the longer, and overawe the citizens.
There was one Sosis, notorious in the city for his bad conduct and his
impudence, yet a favorite with the people, for the very reason that
they liked to see it made a part of popular privileges to carry free
speech to this excess of license. This man, out of a design against
Dion, stood up one day in an assembly, and, having sufficiently railed
at the citizens as a set of fools, that could not see how they had made
an exchange of a dissolute and drunken for a sober and watchful
despotism, and thus having publicly declared himself Dion's enemy, took
his leave. The next day, he was seen running through the streets, as if
he fled from some that pursued him, almost naked, wounded in the head,
and bloody all over. In this condition, getting people about him in the
marketplace, he told them that he had been assaulted by Dion's men;
and, to confirm what he said, showed them the wounds he had received in
his head. And a good many took his part, exclaiming loudly against Dion
for his cruel and tyrannical conduct, stopping the mouths of the people
by bloodshed and peril of life. Just as an assembly was gathering in
this unsettled and tumultuous state of mind, Dion came before them, and
made it appear how this Sosis was brother to one of Dionysius's guard,
and that he was set on by him to embroil the city in tumult and
confusion; Dionysius having now no way left for his security but to
make his advantage of their dissensions and distractions. The surgeons,
also, having searched the wound, found it was rather razed, than cut
with a downright blow; for the wounds made with a sword are, from their
mere weight, most commonly deepest in the middle, but this was very
slight, and all along of an equal depth; and it was not one continued
wound, as if cut at once, but several incisions, in all probability
made at several times, as he was able to endure the pain. There were
credible persons, also, who brought a razor, and showed it in the
assembly, stating that they met Sosis running in the street, all
bloody, who told them that he was flying from Dion's soldiers, who had
just attacked and wounded him; they ran at once to look after them, and
met no one, but spied this razor lying under a hollow stone near the
place from which they observed he came.
Sosis was now likely to come by the worst of it. But when, to back all
this, his own servants came in, and gave evidence that he had left his
house alone before break of day, with the razor in his hand, Dion's
accusers withdrew themselves, and the people by a general vote
condemned Sosis to die, being once again well satisfied with Dion and
his proceedings.
Yet they were still as jealous as before of his soldiers, and the
rather, because the war was now carried on principally by sea;
Philistus being come from Iapygia with a great fleet to Dionysius's
assistance. They supposed, therefore, that there would be no longer
need of the soldiers, who were all landsmen and armed accordingly:
these were rather, indeed, they thought, in a condition to be protected
by themselves, who were seamen, and had their power in their shipping.
Their good opinion of themselves was also much enhanced by an advantage
they got in an engagement by sea, in which they took Philistus
prisoner, and used him in a barbarous and cruel manner. Ephorus relates
that when he saw his ship was taken he slew himself. But Timonides, who
was with Dion from the very first, and was present at all the events as
they occurred, writing to Speusippus the philosopher, relates the story
thus: that Philistus's galley running aground, he was taken prisoner
alive, and first disarmed, then stripped of his corslet, and exposed
naked, being now an old man, to every kind of contumely; after which
they cut off his head, and gave his body to the boys of the town,
bidding them drag it through the Achradina, and then throw it into the
Quarries. Timaeus, to increase the mockery, adds further, that the boys
tied him by his lame leg, and so drew him through the streets, while
the Syracusans stood by laughing and jesting at the sight of that very
man thus tied and dragged about by the leg, who had told Dionysius,
that, so far from flying on horseback from Syracuse, he ought to wait
till he should be dragged out by the heels. Philistus, however, has
stated, that this was said to Dionysius by another, and not by himself.
Timaeus avails himself of this advantage, which Philistus truly enough
affords against himself in his zealous and constant adherence to the
tyranny, to vent his own spleen and malice against him. They, indeed,
who were injured by him at the time are perhaps excusable, if they
carried their resentment to the length of indignities to his dead body;
but they who write history afterwards, and were noway wronged by him in
his lifetime, and have received assistance from his writings, in honor
should not with opprobrious and scurrilous language upbraid him for
those misfortunes, which may well enough befall even the best of men.
On the other side, Ephorus is as much out of the way in his encomiums.
For, however ingenious he is in supplying unjust acts and wicked
conduct with fair and worthy motives, and in selecting decorous and
honorable terms, yet when he does his best, he does not himself stand
clear of the charge of being the greatest lover of tyrants, and the
fondest admirer of luxury and power and rich estates and alliances of
marriage with absolute princes. He that neither praises Philistus for
his conduct, nor insults over his misfortunes, seems to me to take the
fittest course.
After Philistus's death, Dionysius sent to Dion, offering to surrender
the castle, all the arms, provisions, and garrison-soldiers, with full
pay for them for five months, demanding in return that he might have
safe conduct to go unmolested into Italy, and there to continue, and
also to enjoy the revenues of Gyarta, a large and fruitful territory
belonging to Syracuse, reaching from the sea-side to the middle of the
country. Dion rejected these proposals, and referred him to the
Syracusans. They, hoping in a short time to take Dionysius alive,
dismissed his ambassadors summarily. But he, leaving his eldest son,
Apollocrates, to defend the castle, and putting on board his ships the
persons and the property that he set most value upon, took the
opportunity of a fair wind, and made his escape, undiscovered by the
admiral Heraclides and his fleet.
The citizens loudly exclaimed against Heraclides for this neglect; but
he got one of their public speakers, Hippo by name, to go among them,
and make proposals to the assembly for a redivision of lands, alleging
that the first beginning of liberty was equality, and that poverty and
slavery were inseparable companions. In support of this, Heraclides
spoke, and used the faction in favor of it to overpower Dion, who
opposed it; and, in fine, he persuaded the people to ratify it by their
vote, and further to decree, that the foreign soldiers should receive
no pay, and that they would elect new commanders, and so be rid of
Dion's oppression. The people, attempting, as it were, after their long
sickness of despotism, all at once to stand on their legs, and to do
the part, for which they were yet unfit, of freemen, stumbled in all
their actions; and yet hated Dion, who, like a good physician,
endeavored to keep the city to a strict and temperate regimen.
When they met in the assembly to choose their commanders, about the
middle of summer, unusual and terrible thunders, with other
inauspicious appearances, for fifteen days together, dispersed the
people, deterring them, on grounds of religious fear, from creating new
generals. But, at last, the popular leaders, having found a fair and
clear day, and having got their party together, were proceeding to an
election, when a draught-ox, who was used to the crowd and noise of the
streets, but for some reason or other grew unruly to his driver,
breaking from his yoke, ran furiously into the theater where they were
assembled, and set the people flying and running in all directions
before him in the greatest disorder and confusion; and from thence went
on, leaping and rushing about, over all that part of the city which the
enemies afterwards made themselves masters of. However, the Syracusans,
not regarding all this, elected five and twenty captains, and, among
the rest, Heraclides; and underhand tampered with Dion's men,
promising, if they would desert him, and enlist themselves in their
service, to make them citizens of Syracuse, with all the privileges of
natives. But they would not hear the proposals, but, to show their
fidelity and courage, with their swords in their hands, placing Dion
for his security in the midst of their battalion, conveyed him out of
the city, not offering violence to anyone, but upbraiding those they
met with their baseness and ingratitude. The citizens, seeing they were
but few, and did not offer any violence, despised them; and, supposing
that with their large numbers they might with ease overpower and cut
them off before they got out of the city, fell upon them in the rear.
Here Dion was in a great strait, being necessitated either to fight
against his own countrymen, or tamely suffer himself and his faithful
soldiers to be cut in pieces. He used many entreaties to the
Syracusans, stretching out his hands towards the castle, that was full
of their enemies, and showing them the soldiers, who in great numbers
appeared on the walls and watched what was doing. But when no
persuasions could divert the impulse of the multitude, and the whole
mass, like the sea in a storm, seemed to be driven before the breath of
the demagogues, he commanded his men, not to charge them, but to
advance with shouts and clashing of their arms; which being done, not a
man of them stood his ground; all fled at once through the streets,
though none pursued them. For Dion immediately commanded his men to
face about, and led them towards the city of the Leontines.
The very women laughed at the new captains for this retreat; so to
redeem their credit, they bid the citizens arm themselves again, and
followed after Dion, and came up with him as he was passing a river.
Some of the light-horse rode up and began to skirmish. But when they
saw Dion no more tame and calm, and no signs in his face of any
fatherly tenderness towards his countrymen, but with an angry
countenance, as resolved not to suffer their indignities any longer,
bidding his men face round and form in their ranks for the onset, they
presently turned their backs more basely than before, and fled to the
city, with the loss of some few of their men.
The Leontines received Dion very honorably, gave money to his men, and
made them free of their city; sending envoys to the Syracusans, to
require them to do the soldiers justice, who, in return, sent back
other agents to accuse Dion. But when a general meeting of the
confederates met in the town of the Leontines, and the matter was heard
and debated, the Syracusans were held to be in fault. They, however,
refused to stand to the award of their allies, following their own
conceit, and making it their pride to listen to no one, and not to have
any commanders but those who would fear and obey the people.
About this time, Dionysius sent in a fleet, under the command of
Nypsius the Neapolitan, with provisions and pay for the garrison. The
Syracusans fought him, had the better, and took four of his ships; but
they made very ill use of their good success, and, for want of good
discipline, fell in their joy to drinking and feasting in an
extravagant manner, with so little regard to their main interest, that,
when they thought themselves sure of taking the castle, they actually
lost their city. Nypsius, seeing the citizens in this general disorder,
spending day and night in their drunken singing and reveling, and their
commanders well pleased with the frolic, or at least not daring to try
and give any orders to men in their drink, took advantage of this
opportunity, made a sally, and stormed their works; and, having made
his way through these, let his barbarians loose upon the city, giving
up it and all that were in it to their pleasure.
The Syracusans quickly saw their folly and misfortune, but could not,
in the distraction they were in, so soon redress it. The city was in
actual process of being sacked, the enemy putting the men to the sword,
demolishing the fortifications, and dragging the women and children
with lamentable shrieks and cries prisoners into the castle. The
commanders, giving all for lost, were not able to put the citizens in
any tolerable posture of defense, finding them confusedly mixed up and
scattered among the enemy. While they were in this condition, and the
Achradina in danger to be taken, everyone was sensible who he was in
whom all their remaining hopes rested, but no man for shame durst name
Dion, whom they had so ungratefully and foolishly dealt with. Necessity
at last forcing them, some of the auxiliary troops and horsemen cried
out, "Send for Dion and his Peloponnesians from the Leontines." No
sooner was the venture made and the name heard among the people, but
they gave a shout for joy, and, with tears in their eyes, wished him
there, that they might once again see that leader at the head of them,
whose courage and bravery in the worst of dangers they well remembered,
calling to mind not only with what an undaunted spirit he always
behaved himself, but also with what courage and confidence he inspired
them when he led them against the enemy. They immediately, therefore,
dispatched Archonides and Telesides of the confederate troops, and of
the horsemen Hellanicus and four others. These, traversing the road
between at their horses' full speed, reached the town of the Leontines
in the evening. The first thing they did was to leap from their horses
and fall at Dion's feet, relating with tears the sad condition the
Syracusans were in. Many of the Leontines and Peloponnesians began to
throng about them, guessing by their speed and the manner of their
address that something extraordinary had occurred.
Dion at once led the way to the assembly, and, the people being
gathered together in a very little time, Archonides and Hellanicus and
the others came in among them, and in short declared the misery and
distress of the Syracusans, begging the foreign soldiers to forget the
injuries they had received, and assist the afflicted, who had suffered
more for the wrong they had done, than they themselves who received it
would (had it been in their power) have inflicted upon them. When they
had made an end, there was a profound silence in the theater; Dion then
stood up, and began to speak, but tears stopped his words; his soldiers
were troubled at his grief, but bade him take good courage and proceed.
When he had recovered himself a little, therefore, "Men of
Peloponnesus," he said, "and of the confederacy, I asked for your
presence here, that you might consider your own interests. For myself,
I have no interests to consult while Syracuse is perishing, and, though
I may not save it from destruction, I will nevertheless hasten thither,
and be buried in the ruins of my country. Yet if you can find in your
hearts to assist us, the most inconsiderate and unfortunate of men, you
may to your eternal honor again retrieve this unhappy city. But if the
Syracusans can obtain no more pity nor relief from you, may the gods
reward you for what you have formerly valiantly done for them, and for
your kindness to Dion, of whom speak hereafter as one who deserted you
not when you were injured and abused, nor afterwards forsook his
fellow-citizens in their afflictions and misfortunes."
Before he had yet ended his speech, the soldiers leapt up, and with a
great shout testified their readiness for the service, crying out, to
march immediately to the relief of the city. The Syracusan messengers
hugged and embraced them, praying the Gods to send down blessings upon
Dion and the Peloponnesians. When the noise was pretty well over, Dion
gave orders that all should go to their quarters to prepare for their
march, and, having refreshed themselves, come ready armed to their
rendezvous in the place where they now were, resolving that very night
to attempt the rescue.
Now at Syracuse, Dionysius's soldiers, as long as day continued,
ransacked the city, and did all the mischief they could; but when night
came on, they retired into the castle, having lost some few of their
number. At which the factious ringleaders taking heart, and hoping the
enemy would rest content with what they had done and make no further
attempt upon them, persuaded the people again to reject Dion, and, if
he came with the foreign soldiers, not to admit him; advising them not
to yield, as inferior to them in point of honor and courage, but to
save their city and defend their liberties and properties themselves.
The populace, therefore, and their leaders sent messengers to Dion to
forbid him to advance, while the noble citizens and the horse sent
others to him to desire him to hasten his march; for which reason he
slacked his pace, yet did not remit his advance. And in the course of
the night, the faction that was against him set a guard upon the gates
of the city to hinder him from coming in. But Nypsius made another
sally out of the castle with a far greater number of men, and those far
more bold and eager than before, who quite ruined what of the rampart
was left standing, and fell in, pell-mell, to sack and ravage the city.
The slaughter was now very great, not only of the men, but of the women
also and children; for they regarded not so much the plunder, as to
destroy and kill all they met. For Dionysius, despairing to regain the
kingdom, and mortally hating the Syracusans, resolved to bury his lost
sovereignty in the ruin and desolation of Syracuse. The soldiers,
therefore, to anticipate Dion's succors, resolved upon the most
complete and ready way of destruction, to lay the city in ashes, firing
all at hand with torches and lamps, and at distance with flaming
arrows, shot from their bows. The citizens fled every way before them;
they who, to avoid the fire, forsook their houses were taken in the
streets and put to the sword; they who betook themselves for refuge
into the houses were forced out again by the flames, many buildings
being now in a blaze, and many falling in ruins upon them as they fled
past.
This fresh misfortune by general consent opened the gates for Dion. He
had given up his rapid advance, when he received advice that the
enemies were retreated into the castle; but, in the morning, some horse
brought him the news of another assault, and, soon after, some of those
who before opposed his coming fled now to him, to entreat him he would
hasten his relief. The pressure increasing, Heraclides sent his
brother, and after him his uncle, Theodotes, to beg him to help them:
for that now they were not able to resist any longer; he himself was
wounded, and the greatest part of the city either in ruins or in
flames. When Dion met this sad news, he was about sixty furlongs
distant from the city. When he had acquainted the soldiers with the
exigency, and exhorted them to behave themselves like men, the army no
longer marched but ran forwards, and by the way were met by messengers
upon messengers entreating them to make haste. By the wonderful
eagerness of the soldiers and their extraordinary speed, Dion quickly
came to the city and entered what is called the Hecatompedon, sending
his light-armed men at once to charge the enemy, that, seeing them, the
Syracusans might take courage. In the meantime, he drew up in good
order his full-armed men and all the citizens that came in and joined
him; forming his battalions deep, and distributing his officers in many
separate commands, that he might, be able to attack from many quarters
at once, and so he more alarming to the enemy.
So, having made his arrangements and offered vows to the gods, when he
was seen in the streets advancing at the head of his men to engage the
enemy, a confused noise of shouts, congratulations, vows, and prayers
was raised by the Syracusans, who now called Dion their deliverer and
tutelar deity, and his soldiers their friends, brethren, and
fellow-citizens. And, indeed, at that moment, none seemed to regard
themselves, or value their safeties, but to be concerned more for
Dion's life than for all their own together, as he marched at the head
of them to meet the danger, through blood and fire and over heaps of
dead bodies that lay in his way.
And indeed the posture of the enemy was in appearance terrible; for
they were flushed and ferocious with victory, and had posted themselves
very advantageously along the demolished works, which made the access
to them very hazardous and difficult. Yet that which disturbed Dion's
soldiers most was the apprehension they were in of the fire, which made
their march very trouble some and difficult; for the houses being in
flames on al] sides, they were met everywhere with the blaze, and,
treading upon burning ruins and every minute in danger of being
overwhelmed with falling houses, through clouds of ashes and smoke they
labored hard to keep their order and maintain their ranks. When they
came near to the enemy, the approach was so narrow and uneven that but
few of them could engage at a time; but at length, with loud cheers and
much zeal on the part of the Syracusans, encouraging them and joining
with them, they beat off Nypsius's men, and put them to flight. Most of
them escaped into the castle, which was near at hand; all that could
not get in were pursued and picked up here and there by the soldiers,
and put to the sword. The present exigency, however, did not suffer the
citizens to take immediate benefit of their victory in such mutual
congratulations and embraces as became so great a success; for now all
were busily employed to save what houses were left standing, laboring
hard all night, and scarcely so could master the fire.
The next day, not one of the popular haranguers durst stay in the city,
but all of them, knowing their own guilt, by their flight confessed it,
and secured their lives. Only Heraclides and Theodotes went voluntarily
and surrendered themselves to Dion, acknowledging that they had wronged
him, and begging he would be kinder to them than they had been just to
him; adding, how much it would become him who was master of so many
excellent accomplishments, to moderate his anger and be generously
compassionate to ungrateful men, who were here before him, making their
confession, that, in all the matter of their former enmity and rivalry
against him, they were now absolutely overcome by his virtue. Though
they thus humbly addressed him, his friends advised him not to pardon
these turbulent and ill-conditioned men, but to yield them to the
desires of his soldiers, and utterly root out of the commonwealth the
ambitious affectation of popularity, a disease as pestilent and
pernicious as the passion for tyranny itself. Dion endeavored to
satisfy them, telling them that other generals exercised and trained
themselves for the most part in the practices of war and arms; but that
he had long studied in the Academy how to conquer anger, and not let
emulation and envy conquer him; that to do this it is not sufficient
that a man be obliging and kind to his friends, and those that have
deserved well of him, but rather, gentle and ready to forgive in the
case of those who do wrong; that he wished to let the world see that he
valued not himself so much upon excelling Heraclides in ability and
conduct, as he did in outdoing him in justice and clemency; herein to
have the advantage is to excel indeed; whereas the honor of success in
war is never entire; fortune will be sure to dispute it, though no man
should pretend to have a claim. What if Heraclides be perfidious,
malicious, and base, must Dion therefore sully or injure his virtue by
passionate concern for it? For, though the laws determine it juster to
revenge an injury than to do an injury, yet it is evident that both, in
the nature of things, originally proceed from the same deficiency and
weakness. The malicious humor of men, though perverse and refractory,
is not so savage and invincible but it may be wrought upon by kindness,
and altered by repeated obligations. Dion, making use of these
arguments, pardoned and dismissed Heraclides and Theodotes.
And now, resolving to repair the blockade about the castle, he
commanded all the Syracusans to cut each man a stake and bring it to
the works; and then, dismissing them to refresh themselves, and take
their rest, he employed his own men all night, and by morning had
finished his line of palisade; so that both the enemy and the citizens
wondered, when day returned, to see the work so far advanced in so
short a time. Burying therefore the dead, and redeeming the prisoners,
who were near two thousand, he called a public assembly, where
Heraclides made a motion that Dion should be declared general with full
powers at land and sea. The better citizens approved well of it, and
called on the people to vote it so. But the mob of sailors and
handicraftsmen would not yield that Heraclides should lose his command
of the navy; believing him, if otherwise an ill man, at any rate to be
more citizenlike than Dion, and readier to comply with the people. Dion
therefore submitted to them in this, and consented Heraclides should
continue admiral. But when they began to press the project of the
redistribution of lands and houses, he not only opposed it, but
repealed all the votes they had formerly made upon that account, which
sensibly vexed them. Heraclides, therefore, took a new advantage of
him, and, being at Messene, harangued the soldiers and ships' crews
that sailed with him, accusing Dion that he had a design to make
himself absolute. And yet at the same time he held private
correspondence for a treaty with Dionysius by means of Pharax the
Spartan. Which when the noble citizens of Syracuse had intimation of,
there arose a sedition in the army, and the city was in great distress
and want of provisions; and Dion now knew not what course to take,
being also blamed by all his friends for having thus fortified against
himself such a perverse and jealous and utterly corrupted man as
Heraclides was.
Pharax at this time lay encamped at Neapolis, in the territory of
Agrigentum. Dion, therefore, led out the Syracusans, but with an intent
not to engage him till he saw a fit opportunity. But Heraclides and his
seamen exclaimed against him, that he delayed fighting on purpose that
he might the longer continue his command; so that, much against his
will, he was forced to an engagement and was beaten, his loss however
being inconsiderable, and that occasioned chiefly by the dissension
that was in the army. He rallied his men, and, having put them in good
order and encouraged them to redeem their credit, resolved upon a
second battle. But, in the evening, he received advice that Heraclides
with his fleet was on his way to Syracuse, with the purpose to possess
himself of the city and keep him and his army out. Instantly,
therefore, taking with him some of the strongest and most active of his
men, he rode off in the dark, and about nine the next morning was at
the gates, having ridden seven hundred furlongs that night. Heraclides,
though he strove to make all the speed he could, yet, coming too late,
tacked and stood out again to sea; and, being unresolved what course to
steer, accidentally he met Gaesylus the Spartan, who told him he was
come from Lacedaemon to head the Sicilians, as Gylippus had formerly
done. Heraclides was only too glad to get hold of him, and fastening
him as it might be a sort of amulet to himself, he showed him to the
confederates, and sent a herald to Syracuse to summon them to accept
the Spartan general. Dion returned answer that they had generals
enough, and, if they wanted a Spartan to command them, he could supply
that office, being himself a citizen of Sparta. When Gaesylus saw this,
he gave up all pretensions, and sailed in to Dion, and reconciled
Heraclides to him, making Heraclides swear the most solemn oaths to
perform what he engaged, Gaesylus himself also undertaking to maintain
Dion's right, and inflict chastisement on Heraclides if he broke his
faith.
The Syracusans then laid up their navy, which was at present a great
charge and of little use to them, but an occasion of differences and
dissensions among the generals, and pressed on the siege, finishing the
wall of blockade with which they invested the castle. The besieged,
seeing no hopes of succors and their provisions failing, began to
mutiny; so that the son of Dionysius, in despair of holding out longer
for his father, capitulated, and articled with Dion to deliver up the
castle with all the garrison soldiers and ammunition; and so, taking
his mother and sisters and manning five galleys, he set out to go to
his father, Dion seeing him safely out, and scarce a man in all the
city not being there to behold the sight, as indeed they called even on
those that were not present, out of pity that they could not be there,
to see this happy day and the sun shining on a free Syracuse. And as
this expulsion of Dionysius is even now always cited as one of the
greatest and most remarkable examples of fortune's vicissitudes, how
extraordinary may we imagine their joy to have been, and how entire
their satisfaction, who had totally subverted the most potent tyranny
that ever was by very slight and inconsiderable means!
When Apollocrates was gone, and Dion coming to take possession of the
castle, the women could not stay while he made his entry, but ran to
meet him at the gate. Aristomache led Dion's son, and Arete followed
after weeping, fearful and dubious how to salute or address her
husband, after living with another man. Dion first embraced his sister,
then his son; when Aristomache bringing Arete to him, "O Dion," said
she, "your banishment made us all equally miserable; your return and
victory has canceled all sorrows, excepting this poor sufferer's, whom
I, unhappy, saw compelled to be another's, while you were yet alive.
Fortune has now given you the sole disposal of us; how will you
determine concerning her hard fate? In what relation must she salute
you as her uncle, or as her husband?" This speech of Aristomache's
brought tears from Dion, who with great affection embraced his wife,
gave her his son, and desired her to retire to his own house, where he
continued to reside when he had delivered up the castle to the
Syracusans.
For though all things had now succeeded to his wish, yet he desired not
to enjoy any present advantage of his good fortune, except to gratify
his friends, reward his allies, and bestow upon his companions of
former time in Athens and the soldiers that had served him some special
mark of kindness and honor, striving herein to outdo his very means in
his generosity. As for himself, he was content with a very frugal and
moderate competency, and was indeed the wonder of all men, that when
not only Sicily and Carthage, but all Greece looked to him as in the
height of prosperity, and no man living greater than he, no general
more renowned for valor and success, yet in his garb, his attendance,
his table, he seemed as if he rather commoned with Plato in the Academy
than lived among hired captains and paid soldiers, whose solace of
their toils and dangers it is to eat and drink their fill, and enjoy
themselves plentifully every day. Plato indeed wrote to him that the
eyes of all the world were now upon him; but it is evident that he
himself had fixed his eye upon one place in one city, the Academy, and
considered that the spectators and judges there regarded not great
actions, courage, or fortune, but watched to see how temperately and
wisely he could use his prosperity, how evenly he could behave himself
in the high condition he now was in. Neither did he remit anything of
his wonted stateliness in conversation or serious carriage to the
people; he made it rather a point to maintain it, notwithstanding that
a little condescension and obliging civility were very necessary for
his present affairs; and Plato, as we said before, rebuked him, and
wrote to tell him that self-will keeps house with solitude. But
certainly his natural temperament was one that could not bend to
complaisance; and, besides, he wished to work the Syracusans back the
other way, out of their present excess of license and caprice.
Heraclides began again to set up against him, and, being invited by
Dion to make one of the Council, refused to come, saying he would give
his opinion as a private citizen in the public assembly. Next he
complained of Dion because he had not demolished the citadel, and
because he had hindered the people from throwing down Dionysius's tomb
and doing despite to the dead; moreover he accused him for sending to
Corinth for counselors and assistants in the government, thereby
neglecting and slighting his fellow-citizens. And indeed he had sent
messages for some Corinthians to come to him, hoping by their means and
presence the better to settle that constitution he intended; for he
designed to suppress the unlimited democratic government, which indeed
is not a government, but, as Plato calls it, a marketplace of
governments, and to introduce and establish a mixed polity, on the
Spartan and Cretan model, between a commonwealth and a monarchy,
wherein an aristocratic body should preside, and determine all matters
of greatest consequence; for he saw also that the Corinthians were
chiefly governed by something like an oligarchy, and the people but
little concerned in public business.
Now knowing that Heraclides would be his most considerable adversary,
and that in all ways he was a turbulent, fickle, and factious man, he
gave way to some whom formerly he hindered when they designed to kill
him, who, breaking in, murdered Heraclides in his own house. His death
was much resented by the citizens. Nevertheless, when Dion made him a
splendid funeral, followed the dead body with all his soldiers, and
then addressed them, they understood that it would have been impossible
to have kept the city quiet, as long as Dion and Heraclides were
competitors in the government.
Dion had a friend called Callippus, an Athenian, who, Plato says, first
made acquaintance and afterwards obtained familiarity with him, not
from any connection with his philosophic studies, but on occasion
afforded by the celebration of the mysteries, and in the way of
ordinary society. This man went with him in all his military service,
and was in great honor and esteem; being the first of his friends who
marched by his side into Syracuse, wearing a garland upon his head,
having behaved himself very well in all the battles, and made himself
remarkable for his gallantry. He, finding that Dion's principal and
most considerable friends were cut off in the war, Heraclides now dead,
and the people without a leader, and that the soldiers had a great
kindness for him, like a perfidious and wicked villain, in hopes to get
the chief command of Sicily as his reward for the ruin of his friend
and benefactor, and, as some say, being also bribed by the enemy with
twenty talents to destroy Dion, inveigled and engaged several of the
soldiers in a conspiracy against him, taking this cunning and wicked
occasion for his plot. He daily informed Dion of what he heard or what
he feigned the soldiers said against him; whereby he gained that credit
and confidence, that he was allowed by Dion to consort privately with
whom he would, and talk freely against him in any company, that he
might discover who were his secret and factious maligners. By this
means, Callippus in a short time got together a cabal of all the
seditious malcontents in the city; and if anyone who would not be drawn
in advised Dion that he was tampered with, he was not troubled or
concerned at it, believing Callippus did it in compliance with his
directions.
While this conspiracy was afoot, a strange and dreadful apparition was
seen by Dion. As he sat one evening in a gallery in his house alone and
thoughtful, hearing a sudden noise he turned about, and saw at the end
of the colonnade, by clear daylight, a tall woman, in her countenance
and garb like one of the tragical Furies, with a broom in her hand,
sweeping the floor. Being amazed and extremely affrighted, he sent for
some of his friends, and told them what he had seen, entreating them to
stay with him and keep him company all night; for he was excessively
discomposed and alarmed, fearing that if he were left alone the specter
would again appear to him. He saw it no more. But a few days after, his
only son, being almost grown up to man's estate, upon some displeasure
and pet he had taken upon a childish and frivolous occasion, threw
himself headlong from the top of the house and broke his neck.
While Dion was under this affliction, Callippus drove on his
conspiracy, and spread a rumor among the Syracusans, that Dion, being
now childless, was resolved to send for Dionysius's son, Apollocrates,
who was his wife's nephew and sister's grandson, and make him his heir
and successor. By this time, Dion and his wife and sister began to
suspect what was doing, and from all hands information came to them of
the plot. Dion, being troubled, it is probable, for Heraclides's
murder, which was like to be a blot and stain upon his life and
actions, in continual weariness and vexation, declared he had rather
die a thousand times, and open his breast himself to the assassin, than
live not only in fear of his enemies but suspicion of his friends. But
Callippus, seeing the women very inquisitive to search to the bottom of
the business, took alarm, and came to them, utterly denying it with
tears in his eyes, and offering to give them whatever assurances of his
fidelity they desired. They required that he should take the Great
Oath, which was after this manner. The juror went into the sanctuary of
Ceres and Proserpine, where, after the performance of some ceremonies,
he was clad in the purple vestment of the goddess, and, holding a
lighted torch in his hand, took his oath. Callippus did as they
required, and forswore the fact. And indeed he so little valued the
goddesses, that he stayed but till the very festival of Proserpine, by
whom he had sworn, and on that very day committed his intended murder;
as truly he might well enough disregard the day, since he must at any
other time as impiously offend her, when he who had acted as her
initiating priest should shed the blood of her worshiper.
There were a great many in the conspiracy; and as Dion was at home with
several of his friends in a room with tables for entertainment in it,
some of the conspirators beset the house around, others secured the
doors and windows. The actual intended murderers were some Zacynthians,
who went inside in their under-dresses without swords. Those outside
shut the doors upon them and kept them fast. The murderers fell on
Dion, endeavoring to stifle and crush him; then, finding they were
doing nothing, they called for a sword, but none durst open the door.
There were a great many within with Dion, but everyone was for securing
himself, supposing that by letting him lose his life he should save his
own, and therefore no man ventured to assist him. When they had waited
a good while, at length Lycon the Syracusan reached a short sword in at
the window to one of the Zacynthians, and thus, like a victim at a
sacrifice, this long time in their power, and trembling for the blow,
they killed him. His sister, and wife big with child, they hurried to
prison, who poor lady, in her unfortunate condition was there brought
to bed of a son, which, by the consent of the keepers, they intended to
bring up, the rather because Callippus began already to be embroiled in
troubles.
After the murder of Dion, he was in great glory, and had the sole
government of Syracuse in his hands; and to that effect wrote to
Athens, a place which, next the immortal gods, being guilty of such an
abominable crime, he ought to have regarded with shame and fear. But
true it is, what is said of that city, that the good men she breeds are
the most excellent, and the bad the most notorious; as their country
also produces the most delicious honey and the most deadly hemlock.
Callippus, however, did not long continue to scandalize fortune and
upbraid the gods with his prosperity, as though they connived at and
bore with the wretched man, while he purchased riches and power by
heinous impieties, but he quickly received the punishment he deserved.
For, going to take Catana, he lost Syracuse; whereupon they report he
said, he had lost a city and got a bauble. Then, attempting Messena, he
had most of his men cut off, and, among the rest, Dion's murderers.
When no city in Sicily would admit him, but all hated and abhorred him,
he went into Italy and took Rhegium; and there, being in distress and
not able to maintain his soldiers, he was killed by Leptines and
Polysperchon, and, as fortune would have it with the same sword by
which Dion was murdered, which was known by the size, being but short,
as the Spartan swords, and the workmanship of it very curious and
artificial. Thus Callippus received the reward of his villanies.
When Aristomache and Arete were released out of prison, Hicetes, one of
Dion's friends, took them to his house, and seemed to intend to
entertain them well and like a faithful friend. Afterwards, being
persuaded by Dion's enemies, he provided a ship and pretended to send
them into Peloponnesus, but commanded the sailors, when they came out
to sea, to kill them and throw them overboard. Others say that they and
the little boy were thrown alive into the sea. This man also escaped
not the due recompense of his wickedness, for he was taken by Timoleon
and put to death, and the Syracusans, to revenge Dion, slew his two
daughters; of all which I have given a more particular account in the
life of Timoleon.
MARCUS BRUTUS
Marcus Brutus was descended from that Junius Brutus to whom the ancient
Romans erected a statue of brass in the capitol among the images of
their kings with a drawn sword in his hand, in remembrance of his
courage and resolution in expelling the Tarquins and destroying the
monarchy. But that ancient Brutus was of a severe and inflexible
nature, like steel of too hard a temper, and having never had his
character softened by study and thought, he let himself be so far
transported with his rage and hatred against tyrants, that, for
conspiring with them, he proceeded to the execution even of his own
sons. But this Brutus, whose life we now write, having to the goodness
of his disposition added the improvements of learning and the study of
philosophy, and having stirred up his natural parts, of themselves
grave and gentle, by applying himself to business and public affairs,
seems to have been of a temper exactly framed for virtue; insomuch that
they who were most his enemies upon account of his conspiracy against
Caesar, if in that whole affair there was any honorable or generous
part, referred it wholly to Brutus, and laid whatever was barbarous and
cruel to the charge of Cassius, Brutus's connection and familiar
friend, but not his equal in honesty and pureness of purpose. His
mother, Servilia, was of the family of Servilius Ahala, who, when
Spurius Maelius worked the people into a rebellion and designed to make
himself king, taking a dagger under his arm, went forth into the
marketplace, and, upon presence of having some private business with
him, came up close to him, and, as he bent his head to hear what he had
to say, struck him with his dagger and slew him. And thus much, as
concerns his descent by the mother's side, is confessed by all; but as
for his father's family, they who for Caesar's murder bore any hatred
or ill-will to Brutus say that he came not from that Brutus who
expelled the Tarquins, there being none of his race left after the
execution of his two sons; but that his ancestor was a plebeian, son of
one Brutus, a steward, and only rose in the latest times to office or
dignity in the commonwealth. But Posidonius the philosopher writes that
it is true indeed what the history relates, that two of the sons of
Brutus who were of men's estate were put to death, but that a third,
yet an infant, was left alive, from whom the family was propagated down
to Marcus Brutus; and further, that there were several famous persons
of this house in his time whose looks very much resembled the statue of
Junius Brutus. But of this subject enough.
Cato the philosopher was brother to Servilia, the mother of Brutus, and
he it was whom of all the Romans his nephew most admired and studied to
imitate, and he afterwards married his daughter Porcia. Of all the
sects of the Greek philosophers, though there was none of which he had
not been a hearer and in which he had not made some proficiency, yet he
chiefly esteemed the Platonists; and, not much approving of the modern
and middle Academy, as it is called, he applied himself to the study of
the ancient. He was all his lifetime a great admirer of Antiochus of
the city of Ascalon, and took his brother Aristus into his own house
for his friend and companion, a man for his learning inferior indeed to
many of the philosophers, but for the evenness of his temper and
steadiness of his conduct equal to the best. As for Empylus, of whom he
himself and his friends often make mention in their epistles, as one
that lived with Brutus, he was a rhetorician, and has left behind him a
short but well-written history of the death of Caesar, entitled Brutus.
In Latin, he had by exercise attained a sufficient skill to be able to
make public addresses and to plead a cause; but in Greek, he must be
noted for affecting the sententious and short Laconic way of speaking
in sundry passages of his epistles; as when, in the beginning of the
war, he wrote thus to the Pergamenians: "I hear you have given
Dolabella money; if willingly, you must own you have injured me; if
unwillingly, show it by giving willingly to me." And another time to
the Samians: "Your counsels are remiss and your performances slow: what
think ye will be the end?" And of the Patareans thus: "The Xanthians,
suspecting my kindness, have made their country the grave of their
despair; the Patareans, trusting themselves to me, enjoy in all points
their former liberty; it is in your power to choose the judgment of the
Patareans or the fortune of the Xanthians." And this is the style for
which some of his letters are to be noted.
When he was but a very young man, he accompanied his uncle Cato, to
Cyprus, when he was sent there against Ptolemy. But when Ptolemy killed
himself, Cato, being by some necessary business detained in the isle of
Rhodes, had already sent one of his friends, named Canidius, to take
into his care and keeping the treasure of the king; but presently, not
feeling sure of his honesty, he wrote to Brutus to sail immediately for
Cyprus out of Pamphylia, where he then was staying to refresh himself,
being but just recovered of a fit of sickness. He obeyed his orders,
but with a great deal of unwillingness, as well out of respect to
Canidius, who was thrown out of this employment by Cato with so much
disgrace, as also because he esteemed such a commission mean, and
unsuitable to him, who was in the prime of his youth, and given to
books and study. Nevertheless, applying himself to the business, he
behaved himself so well in it that he was highly commended by Cato,
and, having turned all the goods of Ptolemy into ready money, he sailed
with the greatest part of it in his own ship to Rome.
But upon the general separation into two factions, when, Pompey and
Caesar taking up arms against one another, the whole empire was turned
into confusion, it was commonly believed that he would take Caesar's
side; for his father in past time had been put to death by Pompey. But
he, thinking it his duty to prefer the interest of the public to his
own private feelings, and judging Pompey's to be the better cause, took
part with him; though formerly he used not so much as to salute or take
any notice of Pompey, if he happened to meet him, esteeming it a
pollution to have the least conversation with the murderer of his
father. But now, looking upon him as the general of his country, he
placed himself under his command, and set sail for Cilicia in quality
of lieutenant to Sestius, who had the government of that province. But
finding no opportunity there of doing any great service, and hearing
that Pompey and Caesar were now near one another and preparing for the
battle upon which all depended, he came of his own accord to Macedonia
to partake in the danger. At his coming it is said that Pompey was so
surprised and so pleased, that, rising from his chair in the sight of
all who were about him, he saluted and embraced him, as one of the
chiefest of his party. All the time that he was in the camp, excepting
that which he spent in Pompey's company, he employed in reading and in
study, which he did not neglect even the day before the great battle.
It was the middle of summer, and the heat was very great, the camp
having been pitched near some marshy ground, and the people that
carried Brutus's tent were a long while before they came. Yet though
upon these accounts he was extremely harassed and out of order, having
scarcely by the middle of the day anointed himself and eaten a sparing
meal, whilst most others were either laid to sleep or taken up with the
thoughts and apprehensions of what would be the issue of the fight, he
spent his time until the evening in writing an epitome of Polybius.
It is said that Caesar had so great a regard for him that he ordered
his commanders by no means to kill Brutus in the battle, but to spare
him, if possible, and bring him safe to him, if he would willingly
surrender himself; but if he made any resistance, to suffer him to
escape rather than do him any violence. And this he is believed to have
done out of a tenderness to Servilia, the mother of Brutus; for Caesar
had, it seems, in his youth been very intimate with her, and she
passionately in love with him; and, considering that Brutus was born
about that time in which their loves were at the highest, Caesar had a
belief that he was his own child. The story is told, that when the
great question of the conspiracy of Catiline, which had like to have
been the destruction of the commonwealth, was debated in the senate,
Cato and Caesar were both standing up, contending together on the
decision to be come to; at which time a little note was delivered to
Caesar from without, which he took and read silently to himself. Upon
this, Cato cried out aloud, and accused Caesar of holding
correspondence with and receiving letters from the enemies of the
commonwealth; and when many other senators exclaimed against it, Caesar
delivered the note as he had received it to Cato, who reading it found
it to be a love-letter from his own sister Servilia, and threw it back
again to Caesar with the words, "Keep it, you drunkard," and returned
to the subject of the debate. So public and notorious was Servilia's
love to Caesar.
After the great overthrow at Pharsalia, Pompey himself having made his
escape to the sea, and Caesar's army storming the camp, Brutus stole
privately out by one of the gates leading to marshy ground full of
water and covered with reeds, and, traveling through the night, got
safe to Larissa. From Larissa he wrote to Caesar, who expressed a great
deal of joy to hear that he was safe, and, bidding him come, not only
forgave him freely, but honored and esteemed him among his chiefest
friends. Now when nobody could give any certain account which way
Pompey had fled, Caesar took a little journey alone with Brutus, and
tried what was his opinion herein, and after some discussion which
passed between them, believing that Brutus's conjecture was the right
one, laying aside all other thoughts, he set out directly to pursue him
towards Egypt. But Pompey, having reached Egypt, as Brutus guessed his
design was to do, there met his fate.
Brutus in the meantime gained Caesar's forgiveness for his friend
Cassius; and pleading also in defense of the king of the Lybians,
though he was overwhelmed with the greatness of the crimes alleged
against him, yet by his entreaties and deprecations to Caesar in his
behalf, he preserved to him a great part of his kingdom. It is reported
that Caesar, when he first heard Brutus speak in public, said to his
friends, "I know not what this young man intends, but, whatever he
intends, he intends vehemently." For his natural firmness of mind, not
easily yielding, or complying in favor of everyone that entreated his
kindness, once set into action upon motives of right reason and
deliberate moral choice, whatever direction it thus took, it was pretty
sure to take effectively, and to work in such a way as not to fail in
its object. No flattery could ever prevail with him to listen to unjust
petitions; and he held that to be overcome by the importunities of
shameless and fawning entreaties, though some compliment it with the
name of modesty and bashfulness, was the worst disgrace a great man
could suffer. And he used to say, that he always felt as if they who
could deny nothing could not have behaved well in the flower of their
youth.
Caesar, being about to make his expedition into Africa against Cato and
Scipio, committed to Brutus the government of Cisalpine Gaul, to the
great happiness and advantage of that province. For while people in
other provinces were in distress with the violence and avarice of their
governors, and suffered as much oppression as if they had been slaves
and captives of war, Brutus, by his easy government, actually made them
amends for their calamities under former rulers, directing moreover all
their gratitude for his good deeds to Caesar himself; insomuch that it
was a most welcome and pleasant spectacle to Caesar, when in his return
he passed through Italy, to see the cities that were under Brutus's
command and Brutus himself increasing his honor and joining agreeably
in his progress.
Now several praetorships being vacant, it was all men's opinion, that
that of the chiefest dignity, which is called the praetorship of the
city, would be conferred either upon Brutus or Cassius; and some say
that, there having been some little difference upon former accounts
between them, this competition set them much more at variance, though
they were connected in their families, Cassius having married Junia,
the sister of Brutus. Others say that the contention was raised between
them by Caesar's doing, who had privately given each of them such hopes
of his favor as led them on, and provoked them at last into this open
competition and trial of their interest. Brutus had only the reputation
of his honor and virtue to oppose to the many and gallant actions
performed by Cassius against the Parthians. But Caesar, having heard
each side, and deliberating about the matter among his friends, said,
"Cassius has the stronger plea, but we must let Brutus be first
praetor." So another praetorship was given to Cassius; the gaining of
which could not so much oblige him, as he was incensed for the loss of
the other. And in all other things Brutus was partaker of Caesar's
power as much as he desired; for he might, if he had pleased, have been
the chief of all his friends, and had authority and command beyond them
all, but Cassius and the company he met with him drew him off from
Caesar. Indeed, he was not yet wholly reconciled to Cassius, since that
competition which was between them; but yet he gave ear to Cassius's
friends, who were perpetually advising him not to be so blind as to
suffer himself to be softened and won upon by Caesar, but to shun the
kindness and favors of a tyrant, which they intimated that Caesar
showed him, not to express any honor to his merit or virtue, but to
unbend his strength, and undermine his vigor of purpose.
Neither was Caesar wholly without suspicion of him nor wanted informers
that accused Brutus to him; but he feared, indeed, the high spirit and
the great character and the friends that he had, but thought himself
secure in his moral disposition. When it was told him that Antony and
Dolabella designed some disturbance, "It is not," said he, "the fat and
the long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and the lean," meaning
Brutus and Cassius. And when some maligned Brutus to him, and advised
him to beware of him, taking hold of his flesh with his hand, "What,"
he said, "do you think that Brutus will not wait out the time of this
little body?" as if he thought none so fit to succeed him in his power
as Brutus. And indeed it seems to be without doubt that Brutus might
have been the first man in the commonwealth, if he had had patience but
a little time to be second to Caesar, and would have suffered his power
to decline after it was come to its highest pitch, and the fame of his
great actions to die away by degrees. But Cassius, a man of a fierce
disposition, and one that out of private malice, rather than love of
the public, hated Caesar, not the tyrant, continually fired and stirred
him up. Brutus felt the rule an oppression, but Cassius hated the
ruler; and, among other reasons on which he grounded his quarrel
against Caesar, the loss of his lions which he had procured when he was
aedile elect was one: for Caesar, finding these in Megara, when that
city was taken by Calenus, seized them to himself. These beasts, they
say, were a great calamity to the Megarians; for, when their city was
just taken, they broke open the lions' dens, and pulled off their
chains and let them loose, that they might run upon the enemy that was
entering the city; but the lions turned upon them themselves, and tore
to pieces a great many unarmed persons running about, so that it was a
miserable spectacle even to their enemies to behold.
And this, some say, was the chief provocation that stirred up Cassius
to conspire against Caesar; but they are much in the wrong. For Cassius
had from his youth a natural hatred and rancor against the whole race
of tyrants, which he showed when he was but a boy, and went to the same
school with Faustus, the son of Sylla; for, on his boasting himself
amongst the boys, and extolling the sovereign power of his father,
Cassius rose up and struck him two or three boxes on the ear; which
when the guardians and relations of Faustus designed to inquire into
and to prosecute, Pompey forbade them, and, sending for both the boys
together, examined the matter himself. And Cassius then is reported to
have said thus, "Come, then, Faustus, dare to speak here those words
that provoked me, that I may strike you again as I did before." Such
was the disposition of Cassius.
But Brutus was roused up and pushed on to the undertaking by many
persuasions of his familiar friends, and letters and invitations from
unknown citizens. For under the statue of his ancestor Brutus, that
overthrew the kingly government, they wrote the words, "O that we had a
Brutus now!" and, "O that Brutus were alive!" And Brutus's own
tribunal, on which he sat as praetor, was filled each morning with
writings such as these: "You are asleep, Brutus," and, "You are not a
true Brutus." Now the flatterers of Caesar were the occasion of all
this, who, among other invidious honors which they strove to fasten
upon Caesar, crowned his statues by night with diadems, wishing to
incite the people to salute him king instead of dictator. But quite the
contrary came to pass, as I have more particularly related in the life
of Caesar.
When Cassius went about soliciting friends to engage in this design
against Caesar, all whom he tried readily consented, if Brutus would be
head of it; for their opinion was that the enterprise wanted not hands
or resolution, but the reputation and authority of a man such as he
was, to give as it were the first religious sanction, and by his
presence, if by nothing else, to justify the undertaking; that without
him they should go about this action with less heart, and should lie
under greater suspicions when they had done it, for, if their cause had
been just and honorable, people would be sure that Brutus would not
have refused it. Cassius, having considered these things with himself,
went to Brutus, and made him the first visit after their falling out;
and after the compliments of reconciliation had passed, and former
kindnesses were renewed between them, he asked him if he designed to be
present in the senate on the Calends of March, for it was discoursed,
he said, that Caesar's friends intended then to move that he might be
made king. When Brutus answered, that he would not be there, "But
what," says Cassius, "if they should send for us?" "It will be my
business then," replied Brutus, "not to hold my peace, but to stand up
boldly, and die for the liberty of my country." To which Cassius with
some emotion answered, "But what Roman will suffer you to die? What, do
you not know yourself, Brutus? Or do you think that those writings that
you find upon your praetor's seat were put there by weavers and
shopkeepers, and not by the first and most powerful men of Rome? From
other praetors, indeed, they expect largesses and shows and gladiators,
but from you they claim, as an hereditary debt, the extirpation of
tyranny; they are all ready to suffer anything on your account, if you
will but show yourself such as they think you are and expect you should
be." Which said, he fell upon Brutus, and embraced him; and after this,
they parted each to try their several friends.
Among the friends of Pompey there was one Caius Ligarius, whom Caesar
had pardoned, though accused for having been in arms against him. This
man, not feeling so thankful for having been forgiven as he felt
oppressed by that power which made him need a pardon, hated Caesar, and
was one of Brutus's most intimate friends. Him Brutus visited, and,
finding him sick, "O Ligarius," says he, "what a time have you found
out to be sick in!" At which words Ligarius, raising himself and
leaning on his elbow, took Brutus by the hand, and said, "But, O
Brutus, if you are on any design worthy of yourself, I am well."
From this time, they tried the inclinations of all their acquaintance
that they durst trust, and communicated the secret to them, and took
into the design not only their familiar friends, but as many as they
believed bold and brave and despisers of death. For which reason they
concealed the plot from Cicero, though he was very much trusted and as
well beloved by them all, lest, to his own disposition, which was
naturally timorous, adding now the wariness and caution of old age, by
his weighing, as he would do, every particular, that he might not make
one step without the greatest security, he should blunt the edge of
their forwardness and resolution in a business which required all the
dispatch imaginable. As indeed there were also two others that were
companions of Brutus, Statilius the Epicurean, and Favonius the admirer
of Cato, whom he left out for this reason: as he was conversing one day
with them, trying them at a distance, and proposing some such question
to be disputed of as among philosophers, to see what opinion they were
of, Favonius declared his judgment to be that a civil war was worse
than the most illegal monarchy; and Statilius held, that, to bring
himself into troubles and danger upon the account of evil or foolish
men, did not become a man that had any wisdom or discretion. But Labeo,
who was present, contradicted them both; and Brutus, as if it had been
an intricate dispute, and difficult to be decided, held his peace for
that time, but afterwards discovered the whole design to Labeo, who
readily undertook it. The next thing that was thought convenient, was
to gain the other Brutus, surnamed Albinus, a man of himself of no
great bravery or courage, but considerable for the number of gladiators
that he was maintaining for a public show, and the great confidence
that Caesar put in him. When Cassius and Labeo spoke with him
concerning the matter, he gave them no answer; but, seeking an
interview with Brutus himself alone, and finding that he was their
captain, he readily consented to partake in the action. And among the
others, also, the most and best were gained by the name of Brutus. And,
though they neither gave nor took any oath of secrecy, nor used any
other sacred rite to assure their fidelity to each other, yet all kept
their design so close, were so wary, and held it so silently among
themselves, that, though by prophecies and apparitions and signs in the
sacrifices the gods gave warning of it, yet could it not be believed.
Now Brutus, feeling that the noblest spirits of Rome for virtue, birth,
or courage were depending upon him, and surveying with himself all the
circumstances of the dangers they were to encounter, strove indeed as
much as possible, when abroad, to keep his uneasiness of mind to
himself, and to compose his thoughts; but at home, and especially at
night, he was not the same man, but sometimes against his will his
working care would make him start out of his sleep, and other times he
was taken up with further reflection and consideration of his
difficulties, so that his wife that lay with him could not choose but
take notice that he was full of unusual trouble, and had in agitation
some dangerous and perplexing question. Porcia, as was said before, was
the daughter of Cato, and Brutus, her cousin-german, had married her
very young, though not a maid, but after the death of her former
husband, by whom she had one son, that was named Bibulus; and there is
a little book, called Memoirs of Brutus, written by him, yet extant.
This Porcia, being addicted to philosophy, a great lover of her
husband, and full of an understanding courage, resolved not to inquire
into Brutus's secrets before she had made this trial of herself. She
turned all her attendants out of her chamber, and, taking a little
knife, such as they use to cut nails with, she gave herself a deep gash
in the thigh; upon which followed a great flow of blood, and, soon
after, violent pains and a shivering fever, occasioned by the wound.
Now when Brutus was extremely anxious and afflicted for her, she, in
the height of all her pain, spoke thus to him: "I, Brutus, being the
daughter of Cato, was given to you in marriage, not like a concubine,
to partake only in the common intercourse of bed and board, but to bear
a part in all your good and all your evil fortunes; and for your part,
as regards your care for me, I find no reason to complain; but from me,
what evidence of my love, what satisfaction can you receive, if I may
not share with you in bearing your hidden griefs, nor be admitted to
any of your counsels that require secrecy and trust? I know very well
that women seem to be of too weak a nature to be trusted with secrets;
but certainly, Brutus, a virtuous birth and education, and the company
of the good and honorable, are of some force to the forming our
manners; and I can boast that I am the daughter of Cato and the wife of
Brutus, in which two titles though before I put less confidence, yet
now I have tried myself, and find that I can bid defiance to pain."
Which words having spoken, she showed him her wound, and related to him
the trial that she had made of her constancy; at which he being
astonished, lifted up his hands to heaven, and begged the assistance of
the gods in his enterprise, that he might show himself a husband worthy
of such a wife as Porcia. So then he comforted his wife.
But a meeting of the senate being appointed, at which it was believed
that Caesar would be present, they agreed to make use of that
opportunity: for then they might appear all together without suspicion;
and, besides, they hoped that all the noblest and leading men of the
commonwealth, being then assembled, as soon as the great deed was done,
would immediately stand forward, and assert the common liberty. The
very place, too, where the senate was to meet, seemed to be by divine
appointment favorable to their purpose. It was a portico, one of those
joining the theater, with a large recess, in which there stood a statue
of Pompey, erected to him by the commonwealth, when he adorned that
part of the city with the porticos and the theater. To this place it
was that the senate was summoned for the middle of March (the Ides of
March is the Roman name for the day); as if some more than human power
were leading the man thither, there to meet his punishment for the
death of Pompey.
As soon as it was day, Brutus, taking with him a dagger, which none but
his wife knew of, went out. The rest met together at Cassius's house,
and brought forth his son, that was that day to put on the manly gown,
as it is called, into the forum; and from thence, going all to Pompey's
porch, stayed there, expecting Caesar to come without delay to the
senate. Here it was chiefly that anyone who had known what they had
purposed, would have admired the unconcerned temper and the steady
resolution of these men in their most dangerous undertaking; for many
of them, being praetors, and called upon by their office to judge and
determine causes, did not only hear calmly all that made application to
them and pleaded against each other before them, as if they were free
from all other thoughts, but decided causes with as much accuracy and
judgment as they had heard them with attention and patience. And when
one person refused to stand to the award of Brutus, and with great
clamor and many attestations appealed to Caesar, Brutus, looking round
about him upon those that were present, said, "Caesar does not hinder
me, nor will he hinder me, from doing according to the laws."
Yet there were many unusual accidents that disturbed them and by mere
chance were thrown in their way. The first and chiefest was the long
stay of Caesar, though the day was far spent, and his being detained at
home by his wife, and forbidden by the soothsayers to go forth, upon
some defect that appeared in his sacrifice. Another was this: There
came a man up to Casca, one of the company, and, taking him by the
hand, "You concealed," said he, "the secret from us, but Brutus has
told me all." At which words when Casca was surprised, the other said
laughing, "How come you to be so rich of a sudden, that you should
stand to be chosen aedile?" So near was Casca to let out the secret,
upon the mere ambiguity of the other's expression. Then Popilius
Laenas, a senator, having saluted Brutus and Cassius more earnestly
than usual, whispered them softly in the ear and said, "My wishes are
with you, that you may accomplish what you design, and I advise you to
make no delay, for the thing is now no secret." This said, he departed,
and left them in great suspicion that the design had taken wind. In the
meanwhile, there came one in all haste from Brutus's house, and brought
him news that his wife was dying. For Porcia, being extremely disturbed
with expectation of the event, and not able to bear the greatness of
her anxiety, could scarce keep herself within doors; and at every
little noise or voice she heard, starting up suddenly, like those
possessed with the bacchic frenzy, she asked everyone that came in from
the forum what Brutus was doing, and sent one messenger after another
to inquire. At last, after long expectation, the strength of her body
could hold out no longer; her mind was overcome with her doubts and
fears, and she lost the control of herself, and began to faint away.
She had not time to betake herself to her chamber, but, sitting as she
was amongst her women, a sudden swoon and a great stupor seized her,
and her color changed, and her speech was quite lost. At this sight,
her women made a loud cry, and many of the neighbors running to
Brutus's door to know what was the matter, the report was soon spread
abroad that Porcia was dead; though with her women's help she recovered
in a little while, and came to herself again. When Brutus received this
news, he was extremely troubled, nor without reason, yet was not so
carried away by his private grief as to quit his public purpose.
For now news was brought that Caesar was coming, carried in a litter.
For, being discouraged by the ill omens that attended his sacrifice, he
had determined to undertake no affairs of any great importance that
day, but to defer them till another time, excusing himself that he was
sick. As soon as he came out of his litter, Popilius Laenas, he who but
a little before had wished Brutus good success in his undertaking,
coming up to him, conversed a great while with him, Caesar standing
still all the while, and seeming to be very attentive. The
conspirators, (to give them this name,) not being able to hear what he
said, but guessing by what themselves were conscious of that this
conference was the discovery of their treason, were again disheartened,
and, looking upon one another, agreed from each other's countenances
that they should not stay to be taken, but should all kill themselves.
And now when Cassius and some others were laying hands upon their
daggers under their robes, and were drawing them out, Brutus, viewing
narrowly the looks and gesture of Laenas, and finding that he was
earnestly petitioning and not accusing, said nothing, because there
were many strangers to the conspiracy mingled amongst them, but by a
cheerful countenance encouraged Cassius. And after a little while,
Laenas, having kissed Caesar's hand, went away, showing plainly that
all his discourse was about some particular business relating to
himself.
Now when the senate was gone in before to the chamber where they were
to sit, the rest of the company placed themselves close about Caesar's
chair, as if they had some suit to make to him, and Cassius, turning
his face to Pompey's statue, is said to have invoked it, as if it had
been sensible of his prayers. Trebonius, in the meanwhile, engaged
Antony's attention at the door, and kept him in talk outside. When
Caesar entered, the whole senate rose up to him. As soon as he was set
down, the men all crowded round about him, and set Tillius Cimber, one
of their own number, to intercede in behalf of his brother, that was
banished; they all joined their prayers with his, and took Caesar by
the hand, and kissed his head and his breast. But he putting aside at
first their supplications, and afterwards, when he saw they would not
desist, violently rising up, Tillius with both hands caught hold of his
robe and pulled it off from his shoulders, and Casca, that stood behind
him, drawing his dagger, gave him the first, but a slight wound, about
the shoulder. Caesar snatching hold of the handle of the dagger, and
crying out aloud in Latin, "Villain Casca, what do you?" he, calling in
Greek to his brother, bade him come and help. And by this time, finding
himself struck by a great many hands, and looking round about him to
see if he could force his way out, when he saw Brutus with his dagger
drawn against him, he let go Casca's hand, that he had hold of, and,
covering his head with his robe, gave up his body to their blows. And
they so eagerly pressed towards the body, and so many daggers were
hacking together, that they cut one another; Brutus, particularly,
received a wound in his hand, and all of them were besmeared with the
blood.
Caesar being thus slain, Brutus, stepping forth into the midst,
intended to have made a speech, and called back and encouraged the
senators to stay; but they all affrighted ran away in great disorder,
and there was a great confusion and press at the door, though none
pursued or followed. For they had come to an express resolution to kill
nobody besides Caesar, but to call and invite all the rest to liberty.
It was indeed the opinion of all the others, when they consulted about
the execution of their design, that it was necessary to cut off Antony
with Caesar, looking upon him as an insolent man, an affecter of
monarchy, and one that, by his familiar intercourse, had gained a
powerful interest with the soldiers. And this they urged the rather,
because at that time to the natural loftiness and ambition of his
temper there was added the dignity of being consul and colleague to
Caesar. But Brutus opposed this counsel, insisting first upon the
injustice of it, and afterwards giving them hopes that a change might
be worked in Antony. For he did not despair but that so highly gifted
and honorable a man, and such a lover of glory as Antony, stirred up
with emulation of their great attempt, might, if Caesar were once
removed, lay hold of the occasion to be joint restorer with them of the
liberty of his country. Thus did Brutus save Antony's life. But he, in
the general consternation, put himself into a plebeian habit, and fled.
But Brutus and his party marched up to the capitol, in their way
showing their hands all bloody, and their naked swords, and proclaiming
liberty to the people. At first all places were filled with cries and
shouts; and the wild running to and fro, occasioned by the sudden
surprise and passion that everyone was in, increased the tumult in the
city. But no other bloodshed following, and no plundering of the goods
in the streets, the senators and many of the people took courage and
went up to the men in the capitol; and, a multitude being gathered
together, Brutus made an oration to them, very popular, and proper for
the state that affairs were then in. Therefore, when they applauded his
speech, and cried out to him to come down, they all took confidence and
descended into the forum; the rest promiscuously mingled with one
another, but many of the most eminent persons, attending Brutus,
conducted him in the midst of them with great honor from the capitol,
and placed him in the rostra. At the sight of Brutus, the crowd, though
consisting of a confused mixture and all disposed to make a tumult,
were struck with reverence, and expected what he would say with order
and with silence, and, when he began to speak, heard him with quiet and
attention. But that all were not pleased with this action they plainly
showed when, Cinna beginning to speak and accuse Caesar, they broke out
into a sudden rage, and railed at him in such language, that the whole
party thought fit again to withdraw to the capitol. And there Brutus,
expecting to be besieged, dismissed the most eminent of those that had
accompanied them thither, not thinking it just that they who were not
partakers of the fact should share in the danger.
But the next day, the senate being assembled in the temple of the
Earth, and Antony and Plancus and Cicero having made orations
recommending concord in general and an act of oblivion, it was decreed,
that the men should not only be put out of all fear or danger, but that
the consuls should see what honors and dignities were proper to be
conferred upon them. After which done, the senate broke up; and, Antony
having sent his son as an hostage to the capitol, Brutus and his
company came down, and mutual salutes and invitations passed amongst
them, the whole of them being gathered together. Antony invited and
entertained Cassius, Lepidus did the same to Brutus, and the rest were
invited and entertained by others, as each of them had acquaintance or
friends. And as soon as it was day, the senate met again and voted
thanks to Antony for having stifled the beginning of a civil war;
afterwards Brutus and his associates that were present received
encomiums, and had provinces assigned and distributed among them. Crete
was allotted to Brutus, Africa to Cassius, Asia to Trebonius, Bithynia
to Cimber, and to the other Brutus Gaul about the Po.
After these things, they began to consider of Caesar's will, and the
ordering of his funeral. Antony desired that the will might be read,
and that the body should not have a private or dishonorable interment,
lest that should further exasperate the people. This Cassius violently
opposed, but Brutus yielded to it, and gave leave; in which he seems to
have a second time committed a fault. For as before in sparing the life
of Antony he could not be without some blame from his party, as thereby
setting up against the conspiracy a dangerous and difficult enemy, so
now, in suffering him to have the ordering of the funeral, he fell into
a total and irrecoverable error. For first, it appearing by the will
that Caesar had bequeathed to the Roman people seventy-five drachmas a
man, and given to the public his gardens beyond Tiber (where now the
temple of Fortune stands), the whole city was fired with a wonderful
affection for him, and a passionate sense of the loss of him. And when
the body was brought forth into the forum, Antony, as the custom was,
making a funeral oration in the praise of Caesar, and finding the
multitude moved with his speech, passing into the pathetic tone,
unfolded the bloody garment of Caesar, showed them in how many places
it was pierced, and the number of his wounds. Now there was nothing to
be seen but confusion; some cried out to kill the murderers, others (as
was formerly done when Clodius led the people) tore away the benches
and tables out of the shops round about, and, heaping them all
together, built a great funeral pile, and, having put the body of
Caesar upon it, set it on fire, the spot where this was done being
moreover surrounded with a great many temples and other consecrated
places, so that they seemed to burn the body in a kind of sacred
solemnity. As soon as the fire flamed out, the multitude, flocking in
some from one part and some from another, snatched the brands that were
half burnt out of the pile, and ran about the city to fire the houses
of the murderers of Caesar. But they, having beforehand well fortified
themselves, repelled this danger.
There was however a kind of poet, one Cinna, not at all concerned in
the guilt of the conspiracy, but on the contrary one of Caesar's
friends. This man dreamed that he was invited to supper by Caesar, and
that he declined to go, but that Caesar entreated and pressed him to it
very earnestly; and at last, taking him by the hand, led him into a
very deep and dark place, whither he was forced against his will to
follow in great consternation and amazement. After this vision, he had
a fever the most part of the night; nevertheless in the morning,
hearing that the body of Caesar was to be carried forth to be interred,
he was ashamed not to be present at the solemnity, and came abroad and
joined the people, when they were already infuriated by the speech of
Antony. And perceiving him, and taking him not for that Cinna who
indeed he was, but for him that a little before in a speech to the
people had reproached and inveighed against Caesar, they fell upon him
and tore him to pieces.
This action chiefly, and the alteration that Antony had wrought, so
alarmed Brutus and his party, that for their safety they retired from
the city. The first stay they made was at Antium, with a design to
return again as soon as the fury of the people had spent itself and was
abated, which they expected would soon and easily come to pass in an
unsettled multitude, apt to be carried away with any sudden and
impetuous passion, especially since they had the senate favorable to
them; which, though it took no notice of those that had torn Cinna to
pieces, yet made a strict search and apprehended in order to punishment
those that had assaulted the houses of the friends of Brutus and
Cassius. By this time, also, the people began to be dissatisfied with
Antony, who they perceived was setting up a kind of monarchy for
himself; they longed for the return of Brutus, whose presence they
expected and hoped for at the games and spectacles which he, as
praetor, was to exhibit to the public. But he, having intelligence that
many of the old soldiers that had borne arms under Caesar, by whom they
had had lands and cities given them, lay in wait for him, and by small
parties at a time had stolen into the city, would not venture to come
himself; however, in his absence there were most magnificent and costly
shows exhibited to the people; for, having bought up a great number of
all sorts of wild beasts, he gave order that not any of them should be
returned or saved, but that all should be spent freely at the public
spectacles. He himself made a journey to Naples to procure a
considerable number of players, and hearing of one Canutius, that was
very much praised for his acting upon the stage, he wrote to his
friends to use all their entreaties to bring him to Rome (for, being a
Grecian, he could not be compelled); he wrote also to Cicero, begging
him by no means to omit being present at the shows.
This was the posture of affairs when another sudden alteration was made
upon the young Caesar's coming to Rome. He was son to the niece of
Caesar, who adopted him, and left him his heir by his will. At the time
when Caesar was killed, he was following his studies at Apollonia,
where he was expecting also to meet Caesar on his way to the expedition
which he had determined on against the Parthians; but, hearing of his
death, he immediately came to Rome, and, to ingratiate himself with the
people, taking upon himself the name of Caesar, and punctually
distributing among the citizens the money that was left them by the
will, he soon got the better of Antony; and by money and largesses,
which he liberally dispersed amongst the soldiers, he gathered together
and brought over to his party a great number of those that had served
under Caesar. Cicero himself, out of the hatred which he bore to
Antony, sided with young Caesar; which Brutus took so ill that he
treated with him very sharply in his letters, telling him, that he
perceived Cicero could well enough endure a tyrant, but was afraid that
he who hated him should be the man; that in writing and speaking so
well of Caesar, he showed that his aim was to have an easy slavery.
"But our forefathers," said Brutus, "could not brook even gentle
masters." Further he added, that for his own part he had not as yet
fully resolved whether he should make war or peace; but that as to one
point he was fixed and settled, which was, never to be a slave; that he
wondered Cicero should fear the dangers of a civil war, and not be much
more afraid of a dishonorable and infamous peace; that the very reward
that was to be given him for subverting Antony's tyranny was the
privilege of establishing Caesar as tyrant in his place. This is the
tone of Brutus's first letters to Cicero.
The city being now divided into two factions, some betaking themselves
to Caesar and others to Antony, the soldiers selling themselves, as it
were, by public outcry, and going over to him that would give them
most, Brutus began to despair of any good event of such proceedings,
and, resolving to leave Italy, passed by land through Lucania and came
to Elea by the seaside. From hence it was thought convenient that
Porcia should return to Rome. She was overcome with grief to part from
Brutus, but strove as much as was possible to conceal it; but, in spite
of all her constancy, a picture which she found there accidentally
betrayed it. It was a Greek subject, Hector parting from Andromache
when he went to engage the Greeks, giving his young son Astyanax into
her arms, and she fixing her eyes upon him. When she looked at this
piece, the resemblance it bore to her own condition made her burst into
tears, and several times a day she went to see the picture, and wept
before it. Upon this occasion, when Acilius, one of Brutus's friends,
repeated out of Homer the verses, where Andromache speaks to Hector: --
But Hector, you
To me are father and are mother too,
My brother, and my loving husband true.
Brutus, smiling, replied, "But I must not answer Porcia, as Hector did
Andromache,
'Mind you your loom, and to your maids give law.'
For though the natural weakness of her body hinders her from doing what
only the strength of men can perform, yet she has a mind as valiant and
as active for the good of her country as the best of us." This
narrative is in the memoirs of Brutus written by Bibulus, Porcia's son.
Brutus took ship from hence, and sailed to Athens where he was received
by the people with great demonstrations of kindness, expressed in their
acclamations and the honors that were decreed him. He lived there with
a private friend, and was a constant auditor of Theomnestus the
Academic and Cratippus the Peripatetic, with whom he so engaged in
philosophical pursuits, that he seemed to have laid aside all thoughts
of public business, and to be wholly at leisure for study. But all this
while, being unsuspected, he was secretly making preparation for war;
in order to which he sent Herostratus into Macedonia to secure the
commanders there to his side, and he himself won over and kept at his
disposal all the young Romans that were then students at Athens. Of
this number was Cicero's son, whom he everywhere highly extols, and
says that whether sleeping or waking he could not choose but admire a
young man of so great a spirit and such a hater of tyranny.
At length he began to act openly, and to appear in public business,
and, being informed that there were several Roman ships full of
treasure that in their course from Asia were to come that way, and that
they were commanded by one of his friends, he went to meet him about
Carystus. Finding him there, and having persuaded him to deliver up the
ships, he made a more than usually splendid entertainment, for it
happened also to be his birthday. Now when they came to drink, and were
filling their cups with hopes for victory to Brutus and liberty to
Rome, Brutus, to animate them the more, called for a larger bowl, and
holding it in his hand, on a sudden upon no occasion or forethought
pronounced aloud this verse: --
But fate my death and Leto's son have wrought.
And some writers add that in the last battle which he fought at
Philippi the word that he gave to his soldiers was Apollo, and from
thence conclude that this sudden unaccountable exclamation of his was a
presage of the overthrow that he suffered there.
Antistius, the commander of these ships, at his parting gave him fifty
thousand myriads of the money that he was conveying to Italy; and all
the soldiers yet remaining of Pompey's army, who after their general's
defeat wandered about Thessaly, readily and joyfully flocked together
to join him. Besides this, he took from Cinna five hundred horse that
he was carrying to Dolabella into Asia. After that, he sailed to
Demetrias, and there seized a great quantity of arms, that had been
provided by the command of the deceased Caesar for the Parthian war,
and were now to be sent to Antony. Then Macedonia was put into his
hands and delivered up by Hortensius the praetor, and all the kings and
potentates round about came and offered their services. So when news
was brought that Caius, the brother of Antony, having passed over from
Italy, was marching on directly to join the forces that Vatinius
commanded in Dyrrhachium and Apollonia, Brutus resolved to anticipate
him, and to seize them first, and in all haste moved forwards with
those that he had about him. His march was very difficult, through
rugged places and in a great snow, but so swift that he left those that
were to bring his provisions for the morning meal a great way behind.
And now, being very near to Dyrrhachium, with fatigue and cold he fell
into the distemper called Bulimia. This is a disease that seizes both
men and cattle after much labor, and especially in a great snow;
whether it is caused by the natural heat, when the body is seized with
cold, being forced all inwards, and consuming at once all the
nourishment laid in, or whether the sharp and subtle vapor which comes
from the snow as it dissolves, cuts the body, as it were, and destroys
the heat which issues through the pores; for the sweatings seem to
arise from the heat meeting with the cold, and being quenched by it on
the surface of the body. But this I have in another place discussed
more at large.
Brutus growing very faint, and there being none in the whole army that
had anything for him to eat, his servants were forced to have recourse
to the enemy, and, going as far as to the gates of the city, begged
bread of the sentinels that were upon duty. As soon as they heard of
the condition of Brutus, they came themselves, and brought both meat
and drink along with them; in return for which, Brutus, when he took
the city, showed the greatest kindness, not to them only, but to all
the inhabitants, for their sakes. Caius Antonius, in the meantime,
coming to Apollonia, summoned all the soldiers that were near that city
to join him there; but finding that they nevertheless went all to
Brutus, and suspecting that even those of Apollonia were inclined to
the same party, he quitted that city, and came to Buthrotum, having
first lost three cohorts of his men, that in their march thither were
cut to pieces by Brutus. After this, attempting to make himself master
of some strong places about Byllis which the enemy had first seized, he
was overcome in a set battle by young Cicero, to whom Brutus gave the
command, and whose conduct he made use of often and with much success.
Caius himself was surprised in a marshy place, at a distance from his
supports; and Brutus, having him in his power, would not suffer his
soldiers to attack, but maneuvering about the enemy with his horse,
gave command that none of them should be killed, for that in a little
time they would all be of his side; which accordingly came to pass, for
they surrendered both themselves and their general. So that Brutus had
by this time a very great and considerable army. He showed all marks of
honor and esteem to Caius for a long time, and left him the use of the
ensigns of his office, though, as some report, he had several letters
from Rome, and particularly from Cicero, advising him to put him to
death. But at last, perceiving that he began to corrupt his officers,
and was trying to raise a mutiny amongst the soldiers, he put him
aboard a ship and kept him close prisoner. In the meantime the soldiers
that had been corrupted by Caius retired to Apollonia, and sent word to
Brutus, desiring him to come to them thither. He answered that this was
not the custom of the Romans, but that it became those who had offended
to come themselves to their general and beg forgiveness of their
offences; which they did, and accordingly received their pardon.
As he was preparing to pass into Asia, tidings reached him of the
alteration that had happened at Rome; where the young Caesar, assisted
by the senate, in opposition to Antony, and having driven his
competitor out of Italy, had begun himself to be very formidable, suing
for the consulship contrary to law, and maintaining large bodies of
troops of which the commonwealth had no manner of need. And then,
perceiving that the senate, dissatisfied with his proceedings, began to
cast their eyes abroad upon Brutus, and decreed and confirmed the
government of several provinces to him, he had taken the alarm.
Therefore dispatching messengers to Antony, he desired that there might
be a reconciliation, and a friendship between them. Then, drawing all
his forces about the city, he made himself be chosen consul, though he
was but a boy, being scarce twenty years old, as he himself writes in
his memoirs. At his first entry upon the consulship he immediately
ordered a judicial process to be issued out against Brutus and his
accomplices for having murdered a principal man of the city, holding
the highest magistracies of Rome, without being heard or condemned; and
appointed Lucius Cornificius to accuse Brutus, and Marcus Agrippa to
accuse Cassius. None appearing to the accusation, the judges were
forced to pass sentence and condemn them both. It is reported, that
when the crier from the tribunal, as the custom was, with a loud voice
cited Brutus to appear, the people groaned audibly, and the noble
citizens hung down their heads for grief. Publius Silicius was seen to
burst out into tears, which was the cause that not long after he was
put down in the list of those that were proscribed. After this, the
three men, Caesar, Antony, and Lepidus, being perfectly reconciled,
shared the provinces among themselves, and made up the catalogue of
proscription, wherein were set those that were designed for slaughter,
amounting to two hundred men, in which number Cicero was slain.
This news being brought to Brutus in Macedonia, he was under a
compulsion, and sent orders to Hortensius that he should kill Caius
Antonius in revenge of the death of Cicero his friend, and Brutus his
kinsman, who also was proscribed and slain. Upon this account it was
that Antony, having afterwards taken Hortensius in the battle of
Philippi, slew him upon his brother's tomb. But Brutus expresses
himself as more ashamed for the cause of Cicero's death than grieved
for the misfortune of it, and says he cannot help accusing his friends
at Rome, that they were slaves more through their own doing than that
of those who now were their tyrants; they could be present and see and
yet suffer those things which even to hear related ought to them to
have been insufferable.
Having made his army, that was already very considerable, pass into
Asia, he ordered a fleet to be prepared in Bithynia and about Cyzicus.
But going himself through the country by land, he made it his business
to settle and confirm all the cities, and gave audience to the princes
of the parts through which he passed. And he sent orders into Syria to
Cassius to come to him, and leave his intended journey into Egypt;
letting him understand, that it was not to gain an empire for
themselves, but to free their country, that they went thus wandering
about and had got an army together whose business it was to destroy the
tyrants; that therefore, if they remembered and resolved to persevere
in their first purpose, they ought not to be too far from Italy, but
make what haste they could thither, and endeavor to relieve their
fellow-citizens from oppression.
Cassius obeyed his summons, and returned, and Brutus went to meet him;
and at Smyrna they met, which was the first time they had seen one
another since they parted at the Piraeus in Athens, one for Syria, and
the other for Macedonia. They were both extremely joyful and had great
confidence of their success at the sight of the forces that each of
them had got together, since they who had fled from Italy, like the
most despicable exiles, without money, without arms, without a ship or
a soldier or a city to rely on, in a little time after had met together
so well furnished with shipping and money, and an army both of horse
and foot, that they were in a condition to contend for the empire of
Rome.
Cassius was desirous to show no less respect and honor to Brutus than
Brutus did to him; but Brutus was still beforehand with him, coming for
the most part to him, both because he was the elder man, and of a
weaker constitution than himself. Men generally reckoned Cassius a very
expert soldier, but of a harsh and angry nature, and one that desired
to command rather by fear than love; though, on the other side, among
his familiar acquaintance he would easily give way to jesting, and play
the buffoon. But Brutus, for his virtue, was esteemed by the people,
beloved by his friends, admired by the best men, and hated not by his
enemies themselves. For he was a man of a singularly gentle nature, of
a great spirit, insensible of the passions of anger or pleasure or
covetousness; steady and inflexible to maintain his purpose for what he
thought right and honest. And that which gained him the greatest
affection and reputation was the entire faith in his intentions. For it
had not ever been supposed that Pompey the Great himself, if he had
overcome Caesar, would have submitted his power to the laws, instead of
taking the management of the state upon himself, soothing the people
with the specious name of consul or dictator, or some other milder
title than king. And they were well persuaded that Cassius, being a man
governed by anger and passion and carried often, for his interest's
sake, beyond the bounce of justice, endured all these hardships of war
and travel and danger most assuredly to obtain dominion to himself, and
not liberty to the people. And as for the former disturbers of the
peace of Rome, whether a Cinna, a Marius, or a Carbo, it is manifest
that they, having set their country as a stake for him that should win,
did almost own in express terms that they fought for empire. But even
the enemies of Brutus did not, they tell us, lay this accusation to his
charge; nay, many heard Antony himself say that Brutus was the only man
that conspired against Caesar out of a sense of the glory and the
apparent justice of the action, but that all the rest rose up against
the man himself, from private envy and malice of their own. And it is
plain by what he writes himself, that Brutus did not so much rely upon
his forces, as upon his own virtue. For thus he speaks in a letter to
Atticus, shortly before he was to engage with the enemy: that his
affairs were in the best state of fortune that he could wish; for that
either he should overcome, and restore liberty to the people of Rome,
or die, and be himself out of the reach of slavery; that other things
being certain and beyond all hazard, one thing was yet in doubt,
whether they should live or die free men. He adds further, that Mark
Antony had received a just punishment for his folly, who, when he might
have been numbered with Brutus and Cassius and Cato, would join himself
to Octavius; that though they should not now be both overcome, they
soon would fight between them selves. And in this he seems to have been
no ill prophet.
Now when they were at Smyrna, Brutus desired of Cassius that he might
have part of the great treasure that he had heaped up, because all his
own was expended in furnishing out such a fleet of ships as was
sufficient to keep the whole interior sea in their power. But Cassius's
friends dissuaded him from this; "for," said they, "it is not just that
the money which you with so much parsimony keep and with so much envy
have got, should be given to him to be disposed of in making himself
popular, and gaining the favor of the soldiers." Notwithstanding this,
Cassius gave him a third part of all that he had; and then they parted
each to their several commands. Cassius, having taken Rhodes, behaved
himself there with no clemency; though at his first entry, when some
had called him lord and king, he answered, that he was neither king nor
lord, but the destroyer and punisher of a king and lord. Brutus, on the
other part, sent to the Lycians to demand from them a supply of money
and men; but Naucrates, their popular leader, persuaded the cities to
resist, and they occupied several little mountains and hills, with a
design to hinder Brutus's passage. Brutus at first sent out a party of
horse, which, surprising them as they were eating, killed six hundred
of them; and afterwards, having taken all their small towns and
villages round about, he set all his prisoners free without ransom,
hoping to win the whole nation by good-will. But they continued
obstinate, taking in anger what they had suffered, and despising his
goodness and humanity; until, having forced the most warlike of them
into the city of Xanthus, he besieged them there. They endeavored to
make their escape by swimming and diving through the river that flows
by the town, but were taken by nets let down for that purpose in the
channel, which had little bells at the top, which gave present notice
of any that were taken in them. After that, they made a sally in the
night, and seizing several of the battering engines, set them on fire;
but being perceived by the Romans, were beaten back to their walls,
and, there being a strong wind, it carried the flames to the
battlements of the city with such fierceness, that several of the
adjoining houses took fire. Brutus, fearing lest the whole city should
be destroyed, commanded his own soldiers to assist, and quench the fire.
But the Lycians were on a sudden possessed with a strange and
incredible desperation; such a frenzy as cannot be better expressed
than by calling it a violent appetite to die, for both women and
children, the bondmen and the free, those of all ages and of all
conditions strove to force away the soldiers that came in to their
assistance, from the walls; and themselves gathering together reeds and
wood, and whatever combustible matter they found, spread the fire over
the whole city, feeding it with whatever fuel they could, and by all
possible means exciting its fury, so that the flame, having dispersed
itself and encircled the whole city, blazed out in so terrible a
manner, that Brutus, being extremely afflicted at their calamity, got
on horseback and rode round the walls, earnestly desirous to preserve
the city, and, stretching forth his hands to the Xanthians, begged of
them that they would spare themselves and save their town. Yet none
regarded his entreaties, but by all manner of ways strove to destroy
themselves; not only men and women, but even boys and little children,
with a hideous outcry, leaped, some into the fire, others from the
walls, others fell upon their parents' swords, baring their throats and
desiring to be struck. After the destruction of the city, there was
found a woman who had hanged herself with her young child hanging from
her neck, and the torch in her hand, with which she had fired her own
house. It was so tragical a sight, that Brutus could not endure to see
it, but wept at the very relation of it, and proclaimed a reward to any
soldier that could save a Xanthian. And it is said that one hundred and
fifty only were found, to have their lives saved against their wills.
Thus the Xanthians, after a long space of years, the fated period of
their destruction having, as it were, run its course, repeated by their
desperate deed the former calamity of their forefathers, who after the
very same manner in the Persian war had fired their city and destroyed
themselves.
Brutus, after this, finding the Patareans resolved to make resistance
and hold out their city against him, was very unwilling to besiege it,
and was in great perplexity lest the same frenzy might seize them too.
But having in his power some of their women, who were his prisoners, he
dismissed them all without any ransom; who, returning and giving an
account to their husbands and fathers, who were of the greatest rank,
what an excellent man Brutus was how temperate and how just, persuaded
them to yield themselves and put their city into his hands. From this
time all the cities round about came into his power, submitting
themselves to him, and found him good and merciful even beyond their
hopes. For though Cassius at the same time had compelled the Rhodians
to bring in all the silver and gold that each of them privately was
possessed of, by which he raised a sum of eight thousand talents, and
besides this had condemned the public to pay the sum of five hundred
talents more, Brutus, not having taken above a hundred and fifty
talents from the Lycians, and having done them no other manner of
injury, parted from thence with his army to go into Ionia.
Through the whole course of this expedition, Brutus did many memorable
acts of justice in dispensing rewards and punishments to such as had
deserved either; but one in particular I will relate, because he
himself, and all the noblest Romans, were gratified with it above all
the rest. When Pompey the Great, being overthrown from his great power
by Caesar, had fled to Egypt, and landed near Pelusium, the protectors
of the young king consulted among themselves what was fit to be done on
that occasion, nor could they all agree in the same opinion, some being
for receiving him, others for driving him from Egypt. But Theodotus, a
Chian by birth, and then attending upon the king as a paid teacher of
rhetoric, and for want of better men admitted into the council,
undertook to prove to them, that both parties were in the wrong, those
that counseled to receive Pompey, and those that advised to send him
away; that in their present case one thing only was truly expedient, to
seize him and to kill him; and ended his argument with the proverb,
that "dead men don't bite." The council agreed to his opinion, and
Pompey the Great (an example of incredible and unforeseen events) was
slain, as the sophister himself had the impudence to boast, through the
rhetoric and cleverness of Theodotus. Not long after, when Caesar came
to Egypt, some of the murderers received their just reward and suffered
the evil death they deserved. But Theodotus, though he had borrowed on
from fortune a little further time for a poor despicable and wandering
life, yet did not lie hid from Brutus as he passed through Asia; but
being seized by him and executed, had his death made more memorable
than was his life.
About this time, Brutus sent to Cassius to come to him at the city of
Sardis, and, when he was on his journey, went forth with his friends to
meet him; and the whole army in array saluted each of them with the
name of Imperator. Now (as it usually happens in business of great
concern and where many friends and many commanders are engaged),
several jealousies of each other and matters of private accusation
having passed between Brutus and Cassius, they resolved, before they
entered upon any other business, immediately to withdraw into some
apartment; where, the door being shut and they two alone, they began
first to expostulate, then to dispute hotly, and accuse each other; and
finally were so transported into passion as to fall to hard words, and
at last burst out into tears. Their friends who stood without were
amazed, hearing them loud and angry, and feared lest some mischief
might follow, but yet durst not interrupt them, being commanded not to
enter the room. However, Marcus Favonius, who had been an ardent
admirer of Cato, and, not so much by his learning or wisdom as by his
wild, vehement manner, maintained the character of a philosopher, was
rushing in upon them, but was hindered by the attendants. But it was a
hard matter to stop Favonius, wherever his wildness hurried him; for he
was fierce in all his behavior, and ready to do anything to get his
will. And though he was a senator, yet, thinking that one of the least
of his excellences, he valued himself more upon a sort of cynical
liberty of speaking what he pleased, which sometimes, indeed, did away
with the rudeness and unseasonableness of his addresses with those that
would interpret it in jest. This Favonius, breaking by force through
those that kept the doors, entered into the chamber, and with a set
voice declaimed the verses that Homer makes Nestor use, --
Be ruled, for I am older than ye both.
At this Cassius laughed; but Brutus thrust him our, calling him
impudent dog and counterfeit Cynic; but yet for the present they let it
put an end to their dispute, and parted. Cassius made a supper that
night, and Brutus invited the guests; and when they were set down,
Favonius, having bathed, came in among them. Brutus called out aloud
and told him he was not invited, and bade him go to the upper couch;
but he violently thrust himself in, and lay down on the middle one; and
the entertainment passed in sportive talk, not wanting either wit or
philosophy.
The next day after, upon the accusation of the Sardians, Brutus
publicly disgraced and condemned Lucius Pella, one that had been censor
of Rome, and employed in offices of trust by himself, for having
embezzled the public money. This action did not a little vex Cassius;
for but a few days before, two of his own friends being accused of the
same crime, he only admonished them in private, but in public absolved
them, and continued them in his service; and upon this occasion he
accused Brutus of too much rigor and severity of justice in a time
which required them to use more policy and favor. But Brutus bade him
remember the Ides of March, the day when they killed Caesar, who
himself neither plundered nor pillaged mankind, but was only the
support and strength of those that did; and bade him consider, that if
there was any color for justice to be neglected, it had been better to
suffer the injustice of Caesar's friends than to give impunity to their
own; "for then," said he, "we could have been accused of cowardice
only; whereas now we are liable to the accusation of injustice, after
all our pain and dangers which we endure." By which we may perceive
what was Brutus's purpose, and the rule of his actions.
About the time that they were going to pass out of Asia into Europe, it
is said that a wonderful sign was seen by Brutus. He was naturally
given to much watching, and by practice and moderation in his diet had
reduced his allowance of sleep to a very small amount of time. He never
slept in the daytime, and in the night then only when all his business
was finished, and when, everyone else being gone to rest, he had nobody
to discourse with him. But at this time, the war being begun, having
the whole state of it to consider and being solicitous of the event,
after his first sleep, which he let himself take after his supper, he
spent all the rest of the night in settling his most urgent affairs;
which if he could dispatch early and so make a saving of any leisure,
he employed himself in reading until the third watch, at which time the
centurions and tribunes were used to come to him for orders. Thus one
night before he passed out of Asia, he was very late all alone in his
tent, with a dim light burning by him, all the rest of the camp being
hushed and silent; and reasoning about something with himself and very
thoughtful, he fancied someone came in, and, looking up towards the
door, he saw a terrible and strange appearance of an unnatural and
frightful body standing by him without speaking. Brutus boldly asked
it, "What are you, of men or gods, and upon what business come to me?"
The figure answered, "I am your evil genius, Brutus; you shall see me
at Philippi." To which Brutus, not at all disturbed, replied, "Then I
shall see you."
As soon as the apparition vanished, he called his servants to him, who
all told him that they had neither heard any voice nor seen any vision.
So then he continued watching till the morning, when he went to
Cassius, and told him of what he had seen. He, who followed the
principles of Epicurus's philosophy, and often used to dispute with
Brutus concerning matters of this nature, spoke to him thus upon this
occasion: "It is the opinion of our sect, Brutus, that not all that we
feel or see is real and true; but that the sense is a most slippery and
deceitful thing, and the mind yet more quick and subtle to put the
sense in motion and affect it with every kind of change upon no real
occasion of fact; just as an impression is made upon wax; and the soul
of man, which has in itself both what imprints and what is imprinted
on, may most easily, by its own operations, produce and assume every
variety of shape and figure. This is evident from the sudden changes of
our dreams; in which the imaginative principle, once started by
anything matter, goes through a whole series of most diverse emotions
and appearances. It is its nature to be ever in motion, and its motion
is fantasy or conception. But besides all this, in your case, the body,
being tired and distressed with continual toil, naturally works upon
the mind, and keeps it in an excited and unusual condition. But that
there should be any such thing as supernatural beings, or, if there
were, that they should have human shape or voice or power that can
reach to us, there is no reason for believing; though I confess I could
wish that there were such beings, that we might not rely upon our arms
only, and our horses and our navy, all which are so numerous and
powerful, but might be confident of the assistance of gods also, in
this our most sacred and honorable attempt." With such discourses as
these Cassius soothed the mind of Brutus. But just as the troops were
going on board, two eagles flew and lighted on the first two ensigns,
and crossed over the water with them, and never ceased following the
soldiers and being fed by them till they came to Philippi, and there,
but one day before the fight, they both flew away.
Brutus had already reduced most of the places and people of these
parts; but they now marched on as far as to the coast opposite Thasos,
and, if there were any city or man of power that yet stood out, brought
them all to subjection. At this point Norbanus was encamped, in a place
called the Straits, near Symbolum. Him they surrounded in such sort
that they forced him to dislodge and quit the place; and Norbanus
narrowly escaped losing his whole army, Caesar by reason of sickness
being too far behind; only Antony came to his relief with such
wonderful swiftness that Brutus and those with him did not believe when
they heard he was come. Caesar came up ten days after, and encamped
over against Brutus, and Antony over against Cassius.
The space between the two armies is called by the Romans the Campi
Philippi. Never had two such large Roman armies come together to engage
each other. That of Brutus was somewhat less in number than that of
Caesar, but in the splendidness of the men's arms and richness of their
equipage it wonderfully exceeded; for most of their arms were of gold
and silver, which Brutus had lavishly bestowed among them. For though
in other things he had accustomed his commanders to use all frugality
and self-control, yet he thought that the riches which soldiers carried
about them in their hands and on their bodies would add something of
spirit to those that were desirous of glory, and would make those that
were covetous and lovers of gain fight the more valiantly to preserve
the arms which were their estate.
Caesar made a view and lustration of his army within his trenches, and
distributed only a little corn and but five drachmas to each soldier
for the sacrifice they were to make. But Brutus, either pitying this
poverty, or disdaining this meanness of spirit in Caesar, first, as the
custom was, made a general muster and lustration of the army in the
open field, and then distributed a great number of beasts for sacrifice
to every regiment, and fifty drachmas to every soldier; so that in the
love of his soldiers and their readiness to fight for him Brutus had
much the advantage. But at the time of lustration it is reported that
an unlucky omen happened to Cassius; for his lictor, presenting him
with a garland that he was to wear at sacrifice, gave it him the wrong
way up. Further, it is said that some time before, at a certain solemn
procession, a golden image of Victory, which was carried before
Cassius, fell down by a slip of him that carried it. Besides this there
appeared many birds of prey daily about the camp, and swarms of bees
were seen in a place within the trenches, which place the soothsayers
ordered to be shut out from the camp, to remove the superstition which
insensibly began to infect even Cassius himself and shake him in his
Epicurean philosophy, and had wholly seized and subdued the soldiers;
from whence it was that Cassius was reluctant to put all to the hazard
of a present battle, but advised rather to draw out the war until
further time, considering that they were stronger in money and
provisions, but in numbers of men and arms inferior. But Brutus, on the
contrary, was still, as formerly, desirous to come with all speed to
the decision of a battle; that so he might either restore his country
to her liberty, or else deliver from their misery all those numbers of
people whom they harassed with the expenses and the service and
exactions of the war. And finding also his light-horse in several
skirmishes still to have had the better, he was the more encouraged and
resolved; and some of the soldiers having deserted and gone to the
enemy, and others beginning to accuse and suspect one another, many of
Cassius's friends in the council changed their opinions to that of
Brutus. But there was one of Brutus's party, named Atellius, who
opposed his resolution, advising rather that they should tarry over the
winter. And when Brutus asked him in how much better a condition he
hoped to be a year after, his answer was, "If I gain nothing else, yet
I shall live so much the longer." Cassius was much displeased at this
answer; and among the rest, Atellius was had in much disesteem for it.
And so it was presently resolved to give battle the next day.
Brutus that night at supper showed himself very cheerful and full of
hope, and reasoned on subjects of philosophy with his friends, and
afterwards went to his rest. But Messala says that Cassius supped
privately with a few of his nearest acquaintance, and appeared
thoughtful and silent, contrary to his temper and custom; that after
supper he took him earnestly by the hand, and speaking to him, as his
manner was when he wished to show affection, in Greek, said, "Bear
witness for me, Messala, that I am brought into the same necessity as
Pompey the Great was before me, of hazarding the liberty of my country
upon one battle; yet ought we to be of courage, relying on our good
fortune, which it were unfair to mistrust, though we take evil
counsels." These, Messala says, were the last words that Cassius spoke
before he bade him farewell; and that he was invited to sup with him
the next night, being his birthday.
As soon as it was morning, the signal of battle, the scarlet coat, was
set out in Brutus's and Cassius's camps, and they themselves met in the
middle space between their two armies. There Cassius spoke thus to
Brutus: "Be it as we hope, O Brutus, that this day we may overcome, and
all the rest of our time may live a happy life together; but since the
greatest of human concerns are the most uncertain, and since it may be
difficult for us ever to see one another again, if the battle should go
against us, tell me, what is your resolution concerning flight and
death?" Brutus answered, "When I was young, Cassius, and unskillful in
affairs, I was led, I know not how, into uttering a bold sentence in
philosophy, and blamed Cato for killing himself, as thinking it an
irreligious act, and not a valiant one among men, to try to evade the
divine course of things, and not fearlessly to receive and undergo the
evil that shall happen, but run away from it. But now in my own
fortunes I am of another mind; for if Providence shall not dispose what
we now undertake according to our wishes, I resolve to put no further
hopes or warlike preparations to the proof, but will die contented with
my fortune. For I already have given up my life to my country on the
Ides of March; and have lived since then a second life for her sake,
with liberty and honor." Cassius at these words smiled, and, embracing
Brutus said, "With these resolutions let us go on upon the enemy; for
either we ourselves shall conquer, or have no cause to fear those that
do." After this they discoursed among their friends about the ordering
of the battle; and Brutus desired of Cassius that he might command the
right wing, though it was thought that this was more fit for Cassius,
in regard both of his age and his experience. Yet even in this Cassius
complied with Brutus, and placed Messala with the valiantest of all his
legions in the same wing, so Brutus immediately drew out his horse,
excellently well equipped, and was not long in bringing up his foot
after them.
Antony's soldiers were casting trenches from the marsh by which they
were encamped, across the plain, to cut off Cassius's communications
with the sea. Caesar was to be at hand with his troops to support them,
but he was not able to be present himself, by reason of his sickness;
and his soldiers, not much expecting that the enemy would come to a set
battle, but only make some excursions with their darts and light arms
to disturb the men at work in the trenches, and not taking notice of
the boons drawn up against them ready to give battle, were amazed when
they heard the confused and great outcry that came from the trenches.
In the meanwhile Brutus had sent his tickets, in which was the word of
battle, to the officers; and himself riding about to all the troops,
encouraged the soldiers; but there were but few of them that understood
the word before they engaged; the most of them, not staying to have it
delivered to them, with one impulse and cry ran upon the enemy. This
disorder caused an unevenness in the line, and the legions got severed
and divided one from another; that of Messala first, and afterwards the
other adjoining, went beyond the left wing of Caesar; and having just
touched the extremity, without slaughtering any great number, passing
round that wing, fell directly into Caesar's camp. Caesar himself, as
his own memoirs tell us, had but just before been conveyed away, Marcus
Artorius, one of his friends, having had a dream bidding Caesar be
carried out of the camp. And it was believed that he was slain; for the
soldiers had pierced his litter, which was left empty, in many places
with their darts and pikes. There was a great slaughter in the camp
that was taken, and two thousand Lacedaemonians that were newly come to
the assistance of Caesar were all cut off together.
The rest of the army, that had not gone round but had engaged the
front, easily overthrew them, finding them in great disorder, and slew
upon the place three legions; and being carried on with the stream of
victory, pursuing those that fled, fell into the camp with them, Brutus
himself being there. But they that were conquered took the advantage in
their extremity of what the conquerors did not consider. For they fell
upon that part of the main body which had been left exposed and
separated, where the right wing had broke off from them and hurried
away in the pursuit; yet they could not break into the midst of their
battle, but were received with strong resistance and obstinacy. Yet
they put to flight the left wing, where Cassius commanded, being in
great disorder, and ignorant of what had passed on the other wing; and,
pursuing them to their camp, they pillaged and destroyed it, neither of
their generals being present; for Antony, they say, to avoid the fury
of the first onset, had retired into the marsh that was hard by; and
Caesar was nowhere to be found after his being conveyed out of the
tents; though some of the soldiers showed Brutus their swords bloody,
and declared that they had killed him, describing his person and his
age. By this time also the center of Brutus's battle had driven back
their opponents with great slaughter; and Brutus was everywhere plainly
conqueror, as on the other side Cassius was conquered. And this one
mistake was the ruin of their affairs, that Brutus did not come to the
relief of Cassius, thinking that he, as well as himself, was conqueror;
and that Cassius did not expect the relief of Brutus, thinking that he
too was overcome. For as a proof that the victory was on Brutus's side,
Messala urges his taking three eagles and many ensigns of the enemy
without losing any of his own. But now, returning from the pursuit
after having plundered Caesar's camp, Brutus wondered that he could not
see Cassius's tent standing high, as it was wont, and appearing above
the rest, nor other things appearing as they had been; for they had
been immediately pulled down and pillaged by the enemy upon their first
falling into the camp. But some that had a quicker and longer sight
than the rest acquainted Brutus that they saw a great deal of shining
armor and silver targets moving to and fro in Cassius's camp, and that
they thought, by their number and the fashion of their armor, they
could not be those that they left to guard the camp; but yet that there
did not appear so great a number of dead bodies thereabouts as it was
probable there would have been after the actual defeat of so many
legions. This first made Brutus suspect Cassius's misfortune, and,
leaving a guard in the enemy's camp, he called back those that were in
the pursuit, and rallied them together to lead them to the relief of
Cassius, whose fortune had been as follows.
First, he had been angry at the onset that Brutus's soldiers made,
without the word of battle or command to charge. Then, after they had
overcome, he was as much displeased to see them rush on to the plunder
and spoil, and neglect to surround and encompass the rest of the enemy.
Besides this, letting himself act by delay and expectation, rather than
command boldly and with a clear purpose, he got hemmed in by the right
wing of the enemy, and, his horse making with all haste their escape
and flying towards the sea, the foot also began to give way, which he
perceiving labored as much as ever he could to hinder their flight and
bring them back; and, snatching an ensign out of the hand of one that
fled, he stuck it at his feet, though he could hardly keep even his own
personal guard together. So that at last he was forced to fly with a
few about him to a little hill that overlooked the plain. But he
himself, being weak-sighted, discovered nothing, only the destruction
of his camp, and that with difficulty. But they that were with him saw
a great body of horse moving towards him, the same whom Brutus had
sent. Cassius believed these were enemies, and in pursuit of him;
however, he sent away Titinius, one of those that were with him, to
learn what they were. As soon as Brutus's horse saw him coming, and
knew him to be a friend and a faithful servant of Cassius, those of
them that were his more familiar acquaintance, shouting out for joy and
alighting from their horses, shook hands and embraced him, and the rest
rode round about him singing and shouting, through their excess of
gladness at the sight of him. But this was the occasion of the greatest
mischief that could be. For Cassius really thought that Titinius had
been taken by the enemy, and cried out, "Through too much fondness of
life, I have lived to endure the sight of my friend taken by the enemy
before my face." After which words he retired into an empty tent,
taking along with him only Pindarus, one of his freedmen, whom he had
reserved for such an occasion ever since the disasters in the
expedition against the Parthians, when Crassus was slain. From the
Parthians he came away in safety; but now, pulling up his mantle over
his head, he made his neck bare, and held it forth to Pindarus,
commanding him to strike. The head was certainly found lying severed
from the body. But no man ever saw Pindarus after, from which some
suspected that he had killed his master without his command. Soon after
they perceived who the horsemen were, and saw Titinius, crowned with
garlands, making what haste he could towards Cassius. But as soon as he
understood by the cries and lamentations of his afflicted friends the
unfortunate error and death of his general, he drew his sword, and
having very much accused and upbraided his own long stay, that had
caused it, he slew himself.
Brutus, as soon as he was assured of the defeat of Cassius, made haste
to him; but heard nothing of his death till he came near his camp. Then
having lamented over his body, calling him "the last of the Romans," it
being impossible that the city should ever produce another man of so
great a spirit, he sent away the body to be buried at Thasos, lest
celebrating his funeral within the camp might breed some disorder. He
then gathered the soldiers together and comforted them; and, seeing
them destitute of all things necessary, he promised to every man two
thousand drachmas in recompense of what he had lost. They at these
words took courage, and were astonished at the magnificence of the
gift; and waited upon him at his parting with shouts and praises,
magnifying him for the only general of all the four who was not
overcome in the battle. And indeed the action itself testified that it
was not without reason he believed he should conquer; for with a few
legions he overthrew all that resisted him; and if all his soldiers had
fought, and the most of them had not passed beyond the enemy in pursuit
of the plunder, it is very likely that he had utterly defeated every
part of them.
There fell of his side eight thousand men, reckoning the servants of
the army, whom Brutus calls Briges; and on the other side, Messala says
his opinion is that there were slain above twice that number. For which
reason they were more out of heart than Brutus, until a servant of
Cassius, named Demetrius, came in the evening to Antony, and brought to
him the garment which he had taken from the dead body, and his sword;
at the sight of which they were so encouraged, that, as soon as it was
morning, they drew out their whole force into the field, and stood in
battle array. But Brutus found both his camps wavering and in disorder;
for his own, being filled with prisoners, required a guard more strict
than ordinary over them; and that of Cassius was uneasy at the change
of general, besides some envy and rancor, which those that were
conquered bore to that part of the army which had been conquerors.
Wherefore he thought it convenient to put his army in array, but to
abstain from fighting. All the slaves that were taken prisoners, of
whom there was a great number that were mixed up, not without
suspicion, among the soldiers, he commanded to be slain; but of the
freemen and citizens, some he dismissed, saying that among the enemy
they were rather prisoners than with him, for with them they were
captives and slaves, but with him freemen and citizens of Rome. But he
was forced to hide and help them to escape privately, perceiving that
his friends and officers were bent upon revenge against them. Among the
captives there was one Volumnius, a player, and Sacculio, a buffoon; of
these Brutus took no manner of notice, but his friends brought them
before him, and accused them that even then in that condition they did
not refrain from their jests and scurrilous language. Brutus, having
his mind taken up with other affairs, said nothing to their accusation;
but the judgment of Messala Corvinus was, that they should be whipped
publicly upon a stage, and so sent naked to the captains of the enemy,
to show them what sort of fellow drinkers and companions they took with
them on their campaigns. At this some that were present laughed; and
Publius Casca, he that gave the first wound to Caesar, said, "We do ill
to jest and make merry at the funeral of Cassius. But you, O Brutus,"
he added, "will show what esteem you have for the memory of that
general, according as you punish or preserve alive those who will scoff
and speak shamefully of him." To this Brutus, in great discomposure
replied, "Why then, Casca, do you ask me about it, and not do
yourselves what you think fitting?" This answer of Brutus was taken for
his consent to the death of these wretched men; so they were carried
away and slain.
After this he gave the soldiers the reward that he had promised them;
and having slightly reproved them for having fallen upon the enemy in
disorder without the word of battle or command, he promised them, that
if they behaved themselves bravely in the next engagement, he would
give them up two cities to spoil and plunder, Thessalonica and
Lacedaemon. This is the one indefensible thing of all that is found
fault with in the life of Brutus; though true it may be that Antony and
Caesar were much more cruel in the rewards that they gave their
soldiers after victory; for they drove out, one might almost say, all
the old inhabitants of Italy, to put their soldiers in possession of
other men's lands and cities. But indeed their only design and end in
undertaking the war was to obtain dominion and empire, whereas Brutus,
for the reputation of his virtue, could not be permitted either to
overcome or save himself but with justice and honor, especially after
the death of Cassius, who was generally accused of having been his
adviser to some things that he had done with less clemency. But now, as
in a ship, when the rudder is broken by a storm, the mariners fit and
nail on some other piece of wood instead of it, striving against the
danger not well, but as well as in that necessity they can, so Brutus,
being at the head of so great an army, in a time of such uncertainty,
having no commander equal to his need, was forced to make use of those
that he had, and to do and to say many things according to their
advice; which was, in effect, whatever might conduce to the bringing of
Cassius's soldiers into better order. For they were very headstrong and
intractable, bold and insolent in the camp for want of their general,
but in the field cowardly and fearful, remembering that they had been
beaten.
Neither were the affairs of Caesar and Antony in any better posture;
for they were straitened for provision, and, the camp being in a low
ground, they expected to pass a very hard winter. For being driven
close upon the marshes, and a great quantity of rain, as is usual in
autumn, having fallen after the battle, their tents were all filled
with mire and water, which through the coldness of the weather
immediately froze. And while they were in this condition, there was
news brought to them of their loss at sea. For Brutus's fleet fell upon
their ships, which were bringing a great supply of soldiers out of
Italy, and so entirely defeated them, that but very few of the men
escaped being slain, and they too were forced by famine to feed upon
the sails and tackle of the ship. As soon as they heard this, they made
what haste they could to come to the decision of a battle, before
Brutus should have notice of his good success. For it had so happened
that the fight both by sea and land was on the same day, but by some
misfortune, rather than the fault of his commanders, Brutus knew not of
his victory twenty days after. For had he been informed of this, he
would not have been brought to a second battle, since he had sufficient
provisions for his army for a long time, and was very advantageously
posted, his camp being well sheltered from the cold weather, and almost
inaccessible to the enemy, and his being absolute master of the sea,
and having at land overcome on that side wherein he himself was
engaged, would have made him full of hope and confidence. But it seems,
the state of Rome not enduring any longer to be governed by many, but
necessarily requiring a monarchy, the divine power, that it might
remove out of the way the only man that was able to resist him that
could control the empire, cut off his good fortune from coming to the
ears of Brutus; though it came but a very little too late, for the very
evening before the fight, Clodius, a deserter from the enemy, came and
announced that Caesar had received advice of the loss of his fleet, and
for that reason was in such haste to come to a battle. But his story
met with no credit, nor was he so much as seen by Brutus, being simply
set down as one that had had no good information, or invented lies to
bring himself into favor.
The same night, they say, the vision appeared again to Brutus, in the
same shape that it did before, but vanished without speaking. But
Publius Volumnius, a philosopher, and one that had from the beginning
borne arms with Brutus, makes no mention of this apparition, but says
that the first eagle was covered with a swarm of bees, and that there
was one of the captains whose arm of itself sweated oil of roses, and,
though they often dried and wiped it, yet it would not cease; and that
immediately before the battle, two eagles falling upon each other
fought in the space between the two armies, that the whole field kept
incredible silence and all were intent upon the spectacle, until at
last that which was on Brutus's side yielded and fled. But the story of
the Ethiopian is very famous, who meeting the standard-bearer at the
opening the gate of the camp, was cut to pieces by the soldiers, that
took it for an ill omen.
Brutus, having brought his army into the field and set them in array
against the enemy, paused a long while before he would fight; for, as
he was reviewing the troops, suspicions were excited, and informations
laid against some of them. Besides, he saw his horse not very eager to
begin the action, and waiting to see what the foot would do. Then
suddenly Camulatus, a very good soldier, and one whom for his valor he
highly esteemed, riding hard by Brutus himself, went over to the enemy,
the sight of which grieved Brutus exceedingly. So that partly out of
anger, and partly out of fear of some greater treason and desertion, he
immediately drew on his forces upon the enemy, the sun now declining,
about three of the clock in the afternoon. Brutus on his side had the
better, and pressed hard on the left wing, which gave way and
retreated; and the horse too fell in together with the foot, when they
saw the enemy in disorder. But the other wing, when the officers
extended the line to avoid its being encompassed, the numbers being
inferior, got drawn out too thin in the center, and was so weak here
that they could not withstand the charge, but at the first onset fled.
After defeating these, the enemy at once took Brutus in the rear, who
all the while performed all that was possible for an expert general and
valiant soldier, doing everything in the peril, by counsel and by hand,
that might recover the victory. But that which had been his superiority
in the former fight was to his prejudice in this second. For in the
first fight, that part of the enemy which was beaten was killed on the
spot; but of Cassius's soldiers that fled few had been slain, and those
that escaped, daunted with their defeat, infected the other and larger
part of the army with their want of spirit and their disorder. Here
Marcus, the son of Cato, was slain, fighting and behaving himself with
great bravery in the midst of the youth of the highest rank and
greatest valor. He would neither fly nor give the least ground, but,
still fighting and declaring who he was and naming his father's name,
he fell upon a heap of dead bodies of the enemy. And of the rest, the
bravest were slain in defending Brutus.
There was in the field one Lucilius, an excellent man and a friend of
Brutus, who, seeing some barbarian horse taking no notice of any other
in the pursuit, but galloping at full speed after Brutus, resolved to
stop them, though with the hazard of his life; and, letting himself
fall a little behind, he told them that he was Brutus. They believed
him the rather, because he prayed to be carried to Antony, as if he
feared Caesar, but durst trust him. They, overjoyed with their prey,
and thinking themselves wonderfully fortunate, carried him along with
them in the night, having first sent messengers to Antony of their
coming. He was much pleased, and came to meet them; and all the rest
that heard that Brutus was taken and brought alive, flocked together to
see him, some pitying his fortune, others accusing; him of a meanness
unbecoming his former glory, that out of too much love of life he would
be a prey to barbarians. When they came near together, Antony stood
still, considering with himself in what manner he should receive
Brutus. But Lucilius, being brought up to him, with great confidence
said: "Be assured, Antony, that no enemy either has taken or ever shall
take Marcus Brutus alive (forbid it, heaven, that fortune should ever
so much prevail above virtue), but he shall be found, alive or dead, as
becomes himself. As for me, I am come hither by a cheat that I put upon
your soldiers, and am ready, upon this occasion, to suffer any
severities you will inflict." All were amazed to hear Lucilius speak
these words. But Antony, turning himself to those that brought him,
said: "I perceive, my fellow-soldiers, that you are concerned and take
it ill that you have been thus deceived, and think yourselves abused
and injured by it; but know that you have met with a booty better than
that you sought. For you were in search of an enemy, but you have
brought me here a friend. For indeed I am uncertain how I should have
used Brutus, if you had brought him alive; but of this I am sure, that
it is better to have such men as Lucilius our friends than our
enemies." Having said this, he embraced Lucilius, and for the present
commended him to the care of one of his friends, and ever after found
him a steady and a faithful friend.
Brutus had now passed a little brook, running among trees and under
steep rocks, and, it being night, would go no further, but sat down in
a hollow place with a great rock projecting before it, with a few of
his officers and friends about him. At first, looking up to heaven,
that was then full of stars, he repeated two verses, one of which,
Volumnius writes, was this: --
Punish, great Jove, the author of these ills.
The other he says he has forgot. Soon after, naming severally all his
friends that had been slain before his face in the battle, he groaned
heavily, especially at the mentioning of Flavius and Labeo, the latter
his lieutenant, and the other chief officer of his engineers. In the
meantime, one of his companions, that was very thirsty and saw Brutus
in the same condition, took his helmet and ran to the brook for water,
when, a noise being heard from the other side of the river, Volumnius,
taking Dardanus, Brutus's armor-bearer, with him, went out to see what
it was. They returned in a short space, and inquired about the water.
Brutus, smiling with much meaning, said to Volumnius, "It is all drunk;
but you shall have some more fetched." But he that had brought the
first water, being sent again, was in great danger of being taken by
the enemy, and, having received a wound, with much difficulty escaped.
Now Brutus guessing that not many of his men were slain in the fight,
Statyllius undertook to dash through the enemy (for there was no other
way), and to see what was become of their camp; and promised, if he
found all things there safe, to hold up a torch for a signal, and then
return. The torch was held up, for Statyllius got safe to the camp; but
when after a long time he did not return, Brutus said, "If Statyllius
be alive, he will come back." But it happened that in his return he
fell into the enemy's hands, and was slain.
The night now being far spent, Brutus, as he was sitting, leaned his
head towards his servant Clitus and spoke to him; he answered him not,
but fell a weeping. After that, he drew aside his armor-bearer,
Dardanus, and had some discourse with him in private. At last, speaking
to Volumnius in Greek, he reminded him of their common studies and
former discipline, and begged that he would take hold of his sword with
him, and help him to thrust it through him. Volumnius put away his
request, and several others did the like; and someone saying, that
there was no staying there, but they needs must fly, Brutus, rising up,
said, "Yes, indeed, we must fly, but not with our feet, but with our
hands." Then giving each of them his right hand, with a countenance
full of pleasure, he said, that he found an infinite satisfaction in
this, that none of his friends had been false to him; that as for
fortune, he was angry with that only for his country's sake; as for
himself, he thought himself much more happy than they who had overcome,
not only as he had been a little time ago, but even now in his present
condition; since he was leaving behind him such a reputation of his
virtue as none of the conquerors with all their arms and riches should
ever be able to acquire, no more than they could hinder posterity from
believing and saying, that, being unjust and wicked men, they had
destroyed the just and the good, and usurped a power to which they had
no right. After this, having exhorted and entreated all about him to
provide for their own safety, he withdrew from them with two or three
only of his peculiar friends; Strato was one of these, with whom he had
contracted an acquaintance when they studied rhetoric together. Him he
placed next to himself, and, taking hold of the hilt of his sword and
directing it with both his hands, he fell upon it, and killed himself.
But others say, that not he himself, but Strato, at the earnest
entreaty of Brutus, turning aside his head, held the sword, upon which
he violently throwing himself, it pierced his breast, and he
immediately died. This same Strato, Messala, a friend of Brutus, being,
after reconciled to Caesar, brought to him once at his leisure, and
with tears in his eyes said, "This, O Caesar, is the man that did the
last friendly office to my beloved Brutus." Upon which Caesar received
him kindly; and had good use of him in his labors and his battles at
Actium, being one of the Greeks that proved their bravery in his
service. It is reported of Messala himself, that, when Caesar once gave
him this commendation, that though he was his fiercest enemy at
Philippi in the cause of Brutus, yet he had shown himself his most
entire friend in the fight of Actium, he answered, "You have always
found me, Caesar, on the best and justest side."
Brutus's dead body was found by Antony, who commanded the richest
purple mantle that he had to be thrown over it, and afterwards the
mantle being stolen, he found the thief, and had him put to death. He
sent the ashes of Brutus to his mother Servilia. As for Porcia his
wife, Nicolaus the philosopher and Valerius Maximus write, that, being
desirous to die, but being hindered by her friends, who continually
watched her, she snatched some burning charcoal out of the fire, and,
shutting it close in her mouth, stifled herself, and died. Though there
is a letter current from Brutus to his friends, in which he laments the
death of Porcia, and accuses them for neglecting her so that she
desired to die rather than languish with her disease. So that it seems
Nicolaus was mistaken in the time; for this epistle (if it indeed is
authentic, and truly Brutus's) gives us to understand the malady and
love of Porcia, and the way in which her death occurred.
COMPARISON OF DION AND BRUTUS
There are noble points in abundance in the characters of these two men,
and one to be first mentioned is their attaining such a height of
greatness upon such inconsiderable means; and on this score Dion has by
far the advantage. For he had no partner to contest his glory, as
Brutus had in Cassius, who was not, indeed, his equal in proved virtue
and honor, yet contributed quite as much to the service of the war by
his boldness, skill, and activity; and some there be who impute to him
the rise and beginning of the whole enterprise, saying that it was he
who roused Brutus, till then indisposed to stir, into action against
Caesar. Whereas Dion seems of himself to have provided not only arms,
ships, and soldiers, but likewise friends and partners for the
enterprise. Neither did he, as Brutus, collect money and forces from
the war itself, but, on the contrary, laid out of his own substance,
and employed the very means of his private sustenance in exile for the
liberty of his country. Besides this, Brutus and Cassius, when they
fled from Rome, could not live safe or quiet, being condemned to death
and pursued, and were thus of necessity forced to take arms and hazard
their lives in their own defense, to save themselves, rather than their
country. On the other hand, Dion enjoyed more ease, was more safe, and
his life more pleasant in his banishment, than was the tyrant's who had
banished him, when he flew to action, and ran the risk of all to save
Sicily.
Take notice, too, that it was not the same thing for the Sicilians to
be freed from Dionysius, and for the Romans to be freed from Caesar.
The former owned himself a tyrant, and vexed Sicily with a thousand
oppressions; whereas Caesar's supremacy, certainly, in the process for
attaining it, had inflicted no little trouble on its opponents, but,
once established and victorious, it had indeed the name and appearance,
but fact that was cruel or tyrannical there was none. On the contrary,
in the malady of the times and the need of a monarchical government, he
might be thought to have been sent, as the gentlest physician, by no
other than a divine intervention. And thus the common people instantly
regretted Caesar, and grew enraged and implacable against those that
killed him. Whereas Dion's chief offense in the eyes of his
fellow-citizens was his having let Dionysius escape, and not having
demolished the former tyrant's tomb.
In the actual conduct of war, Dion was a commander without fault,
improving to the utmost those counsels which he himself gave, and,
where others led him into disaster, correcting and turning everything
to the best. But Brutus seems to have shown little wisdom in engaging
in the final battle, which was to decide everything, and, when he
failed, not to have done his business in seeking a remedy ; he gave all
up, and abandoned his hopes, not venturing against fortune even as far
as Pompey did, when he had still means enough to rely on in his troops,
and was clearly master of all the seas with his ships.
The greatest thing charged on Brutus is, that he, being saved by
Caesar's kindness, having saved all the friends whom he chose to ask
for, he moreover accounted a friend, and preferred above many, did yet
lay violent hands upon his preserver. Nothing like this could be
objected against Dion; quite the contrary, whilst he was of Dionysius's
family and his friend, he did good service, and was useful to him; but
driven from his country, wronged in his wife, and his estate lost, he
openly entered upon a war just and lawful. Does not, however, the
matter turn the other way? For the chief glory of both was their hatred
of tyranny, and abhorrence of wickedness. This was unmixed and sincere
in Brutus; for he had no private quarrel with Caesar, but went into the
risk singly for the liberty of his country. The other, had he not been
privately injured, had not fought. This is plain from Plato's epistles,
where it is shown that he was turned out, and did not forsake the court
to wage war upon Dionysius. Moreover, the public good made Brutus
Pompey's friend (instead of his enemy as he had been) and Caesar's
enemy; since he proposed for his hatred and his friendship no other end
and standard but justice. Dion was very serviceable to Dionysius whilst
in favor; when no longer trusted, he grew angry and fell to arms. And,
for this reason, not even were his own friends all of them satisfied
with his undertaking, or quite assured that, having overcome Dionysius,
he might not settle the government on himself, deceiving his
fellow-citizens by some less obnoxious name than tyranny. But the very
enemies of Brutus would say that he had no other end or aim, from first
to last, save only to restore to the Roman people their ancient
government.
And apart from what has just been said, the adventure against Dionysius
was nothing equal with that against Caesar. For none that was
familiarly conversant with Dionysius but scorned him for his life of
idle amusement with wine, women, and dice; whereas it required an
heroic soul and a truly intrepid and unquailing spirit so much as to
entertain the thought of crushing Caesar so formidable for his ability,
his power, and his fortune, whose very name disturbed the slumbers of
the Parthian and Indian kings. Dion was no sooner seen in Sicily but
thousands ran in to him and joined him against Dionysius; whereas the
renown of Caesar, even when dead, gave strength to his friends; and his
very name so heightened the person that took it, that from a simple boy
he presently became the chief of the Romans; and he could use it for a
spell against the enmity and power of Antony. If any object that it
cost Dion great trouble and difficulties to overcome the tyrant,
whereas Brutus slew Caesar naked and unprovided, yet this itself was
the result of the most consummate policy and conduct, to bring it about
that a man so guarded around, and so fortified at all points, should be
taken naked and unprovided. For it was not on the sudden, nor alone,
nor with a few, that he fell upon and killed Caesar; but after long
concerting the plot, and placing confidence in a great many men, not
one of whom deceived him. For he either at once discerned the best men,
or by confiding in them made them good. But Dion, either making a wrong
judgment, trusted himself with ill men, or else by his employing them
made ill men of good; either of the two would be a reflection on a wise
man. Plato also is severe upon him, for choosing such for friends as
betrayed him.
Besides, when Dion was killed, none appeared to revenge his death.
Whereas Brutus, even amongst his enemies, had Antony that buried him
splendidly; and Caesar also took care his honors should be preserved.
There stood at Milan in Gaul, within the Alps, a brazen statue, which
Caesar in after-times noticed (being a real likeness, and a fine work
of art), and passing by it, presently stopped short, and in the hearing
of many commended the magistrates to come before him. He told them
their town had broken their league, harboring an enemy. The magistrates
at first simply denied the thing, and, not knowing what he meant,
looked one upon another, when Caesar, turning towards the statue and
gathering his brows, said, "Pray, is not that our enemy who stands
there?" They were all in confusion, and had nothing to answer; but he,
smiling, much commended the Gauls, as who had been firm to their
friends, though in adversity, and ordered that the statue should remain
standing as he found it.
ARATUS
The philosopher Chrysippus, O Polycrates, quotes an ancient proverb,
not as really it should be, apprehending, I suppose, that it sounded
too harshly, but so as he thought it would run best, in these words,
Who praise their father but the generous sons?
But Dionysodorus the Troezenian proves him to be wrong, and restores
the true reading, which is this, --
Who praise their fathers but degenerate sons?
telling us that the proverb is meant to stop the mouth of those who,
having no merit of their own, take refuge in the virtues of their
ancestors, and make their advantage of praising them. But, as Pindar
hath it,
He that by nature doth inherit
From ancestors a noble spirit,
as you do, who make your life the copy of the fairest originals of your
family, -- such, I say, may take great satisfaction in being reminded,
both by hearing others speak and speaking themselves, of the best of
their progenitors. For they assume not the glory of praises earned by
others out of any want of worth of their own, but, affiliating their
own deeds to those of their ancestor, give them honor as the authors
both of their descent and manners.
Therefore I have sent to you the life which I have written of your
fellow-citizen and forefather Aratus, to whom you are no discredit in
point either of reputation or of authority, not as though you had not
been most diligently careful to inform yourself from the beginning
concerning his actions, but that your sons, Polycrates and Pythocles,
may both by hearing and reading become familiar with those family
examples which it behooves them to follow and imitate. It is a piece of
self-love, and not of the love of virtue, to imagine one has already
attained to what is best.
The city of Sicyon, from the time that it first fell off from the pure
and Doric aristocracy (its harmony being destroyed, and a mere series
of seditions and personal contests of popular leaders ensuing),
continued to be distempered and unsettled, changing from one tyrant to
another, until, Cleon being slain, Timoclides and Clinias, men of the
most repute and power amongst the citizens, were chosen to the
magistracy. And the commonwealth now seeming to be in a pretty settled
condition, Timoclides died, and Abantidas, the son of Paseas, to
possess himself of the tyranny, killed Clinias, and, of his kindred and
friends, slew some and banished others. He sought also to kill his son
Aratus, whom he left behind him, being but seven years old. This boy in
the general disorder getting out of the house with those that fled, and
wandering about the city helpless and in great fear, by chance got
undiscovered into the house of a woman who was Abantidas's sister, but
married to Prophantus, the brother of Clinias, her name being Soso.
She, being of a generous temper, and believing the boy had by some
supernatural guidance fled to her for shelter, hid him in the house,
and at night sent him away to Argos.
Aratus, being thus delivered and secured from this danger, conceived
from the first and ever after nourished a vehement and burning hatred
against tyrants, which strengthened with his years. Being therefore
bred up amongst his father's acquaintance and friends at Argos with a
liberal education, and perceiving his body to promise good health and
stature, he addicted himself to the exercises of the palaestra, to that
degree that he competed in the five games, and gained some crowns; and
indeed in his statues one may observe a certain kind of athletic cast,
and the sagacity and majesty of his countenance does not dissemble his
full diet and the use of the hoe. Whence it came to pass that he less
studied eloquence than perhaps became a statesman, and yet he was more
accomplished in speaking than many believe, judging by the commentaries
which he left behind him, written carelessly and by the way, as fast as
he could do it, and in such words as first came to his mind.
In the course of time, Dinias and Aristoteles the logician killed
Abantidas, who used to be present in the marketplace at their
discussions, and to make one in them; till they, taking the occasion,
insensibly accustomed him to the practice, and so had opportunity to
contrive and execute a plot against him. After him Paseas, the father
of Abantidas, taking upon him the government, was assassinated by
Nicocles, who himself set up for tyrant. Of him it is related that he
was strikingly like Periander the son of Cypselus, just as it is said
that Orontes the Persian bore a great resemblance to Alcmaeon the son
of Amphiaraus, and that Lacedaemonian youth, whom Myrsilus relates to
have been trodden to pieces by the crowd of those that came to see him
upon that report, to Hector.
This Nicocles governed four months, in which, after he had done all
kinds of mischief to the city, he very nearly let it fall into the
hands of the Aetolians. By this time Aratus, being grown a youth, was
in much esteem, both for his noble birth and his spirit and
disposition, which, while neither insignificant nor wanting in energy,
were solid, and tempered with a steadiness of judgment beyond his
years. For which reason the exiles had their eyes most upon him, nor
did Nicocles less observe his motions, but secretly spied and watched
him, not out of apprehension of any such considerable or utterly
audacious attempt, but suspecting he held correspondence with the
kings, who were his father's friends and acquaintance. And, indeed,
Aratus first attempted this way; but finding that Antigonus, who had
promised fair, neglected him and delayed the time, and that his hopes
from Egypt and Ptolemy were long to wait for, he determined to cut off
the tyrant by himself.
And first he broke his mind to Aristomachus and Ecdelus, the one an
exile of Sicyon, the other, Ecdelus, an Arcadian of Megalopolis, a
philosopher, and a man of action, having been the familiar friend of
Arcesilaus the Academic at Athens. These readily consenting, he
communicated with the other exiles, whereof some few, being ashamed to
seem to despair of success, engaged in the design; but most of them
endeavored to divert him from his purpose, as one that for want of
experience was too rash and daring.
Whilst he was consulting to seize upon some post in Sicyonia, from
whence he might make war upon the tyrant, there came to Argos a certain
Sicyonian, newly escaped out of prison, brother to Xenocles, one of the
exiles, who being by him presented to Aratus informed him, that that
part of the wall over which he escaped was, inside, almost level with
the ground, adjoining a rocky and elevated place, and that from the
outside it might be scaled with ladders. Aratus, hearing this,
dispatches away Xenocles with two of his own servants, Seuthas and
Technon, to view the wall, resolving, if possible, secretly and with
one risk to hazard all on a single trial, rather than carry on a
contest as a private man against a tyrant by long war and open force.
Xenocles, therefore, with his companions, returning having taken the
height of the wall, and declaring the place not to be impossible or
indeed difficult to get over, but that it was not easy to approach it
undiscovered, by reason of some small but uncommonly savage and noisy
dogs belonging to a gardener hard by, he immediately undertook the
business.
Now the preparation of arms gave no jealousy, because robberies and
petty forays were at that time common everywhere between one set of
people and another; and for the ladders, Euphranor, the machine-maker,
made them openly, his trade rendering him unsuspected, though one of
the exiles. As for men, each of his friends in Argos furnished him with
ten apiece out of those few they had, and he armed thirty of his own
servants, and hired some few soldiers of Xenophilus, the chief of the
robber captains, to whom it was given out that they were to march into
the territory of Sicyon to seize the king's stud; most of them were
sent before, in small parties, to the tower of Polygnotus, with orders
to wait there; Caphisias also was dispatched beforehand lightly armed,
with four others, who were, as soon as it was dark, to come to the
gardener's house, pretending to be travelers, and, procuring their
lodging there, to shut up him and his dogs; for there was no other way
of getting past. And for the ladders, they had been made to take in
pieces, and were put into chests, and sent before hidden upon wagons.
In the meantime, some of the spies of Nicocles appearing in Argos, and
being said to go privately about watching Aratus, he came early in the
morning into the market-place, showing him self openly and conversing
with his friends; then he anointed himself in the exercise ground, and,
taking with him thence some of the young men that used to drink and
spend their time with him, he went home; and presently after several of
his servants were seen about the marketplace, one carrying garlands,
another buying flambeaus, and a third speaking to the women that used
to sing and play at banquets, all which things the spies observing were
deceived, and said laughing to one another, "Certainly nothing can be
more timorous than a tyrant, if Nicocles, being master of so great a
city and so numerous a force, stands in fear of a youth that spends
what he has to subsist upon in his banishment in pleasures and
day-debauches;" and, being thus imposed upon, they returned home.
But Aratus, departing immediately after his morning meal, and coming to
his soldiers at Polygnotus's tower, led them to Nemea; where he
disclosed, to most of them for the first time; his true design, making
them large promises and fair speeches, and marched towards the city,
giving for the word Apollo victorious, proportioning his march to the
motion of the moon, so as to have the benefit of her light upon the
way, and to be in the garden, which was close to the wall, just as she
was setting. Here Caphisias came to him, who had not secured the dogs,
which had run away before he could catch them, but had only made sure
of the gardener. Upon which most of the company being out of heart and
desiring to retreat, Aratus encouraged them to go on, promising to
retire in case the dogs were too troublesome; and at the same time
sending forward those that carried the ladders, conducted by Ecdelus
and Mnasitheus, he followed them himself leisurely, the dogs already
barking very loud and following, the steps of Ecdelus and his
companions. However, they got to the wall, and reared the ladders with
safety. But as the foremost men were mounting them, the captain of the
watch that was to be relieved by the morning guard passed on his way
with the bell, and there were many lights, and a noise of people coming
up. Hearing which, they clapped themselves close to the ladders, and so
were unobserved; but as the other watch also was coming up to meet
this, they were in extreme danger of being discovered. But when this
also went by without observing them, immediately Mnasitheus and Ecdelus
got upon the wall, and, possessing themselves of the approaches inside
and out, sent away Technon to Aratus, desiring him to make all the
haste he could.
Now there was no great distance from the garden to the wall and to the
tower, in which latter a large hound was kept. The hound did not hear
their steps of himself, whether that he were naturally drowsy, or
overwearied the day before, but, the gardener's curs awaking him, he
first began to growl and grumble in response, and then as they passed
by to bark out aloud. And the barking was now so great, that the
sentinel opposite shouted out to the dog's keeper to know why the dog
kept such a barking, and whether anything was the matter; who answered,
that it was nothing, but only that his dog had been set barking by the
lights of the watch and the noise of the bell. This reply much
encouraged Aratus's soldiers, who thought the dog's keeper was privy to
their design, and wished to conceal what was passing, and that many
others in the city were of the conspiracy. But when they came to scale
the wall, the attempt then appeared both to require time and to be full
of danger, for the ladders shook and tottered extremely unless they
mounted them leisurely and one by one, and time pressed, for the cocks
began to crow, and the country people that used to bring things to the
market would be coming to the town directly. Therefore Aratus made
haste to get up himself, forty only of the company being already upon
the wall, and, staying but for a few more of those that were below, he
made straight to the tyrant's house and the general's office, where the
mercenary soldiers passed the night, and, coming suddenly upon them,
and taking them prisoners without killing any one of them, he
immediately sent to all his friends in their houses to desire them to
come to him, which they did from all quarters. By this time the day
began to break, and the theater was filled with a multitude that were
held in suspense by uncertain reports and knew nothing distinctly of
what had happened, until a public crier came forward and proclaimed
that Aratus, the son of Clinias, invited the citizens to recover their
liberty.
Then at last assured that what they so long looked for was come to
pass, they pressed in throngs to the tyrant's gates to set them on
fire. And such a flame was kindled, the whole house catching fire, that
it was seen as far as Corinth; so that the Corinthians, wondering what
the matter could be, were upon the point of coming to their assistance.
Nicocles fled away secretly out of the city by means of certain
underground passages, and the soldiers, helping the Sicyonians to
quench the fire, plundered the house. This Aratus hindered not, but
divided also the rest of the riches of the tyrants amongst the
citizens. In this exploit, not one of those engaged in it was slain,
nor any of the contrary party, fortune so ordering the action as to be
clear and free from civil bloodshed. He restored eighty exiles who had
been expelled by Nicocles, and no less than five hundred who had been
driven out by former tyrants and had endured a long banishment, pretty
nearly, by this time, of fifty years' duration. These returning, most
of them very poor, were impatient to enter upon their former
possessions, and, proceeding to their several farms and houses, gave
great perplexity to Aratus, who considered that the city without was
envied for its liberty and aimed at by Antigonus, and within was full
of disorder and sedition. Wherefore, as things stood, he thought it
best to associate it to the Achaean community, and so, although
Dorians, they of their own will took upon them the name and citizenship
of the Achaeans, who at that time had neither great repute nor much
power. For the most of them lived in small towns, and their territory
was neither large nor fruitful, and the neighboring sea was almost
wholly without a harbor, breaking direct upon a rocky shore. But yet
these above others made it appear that the Grecian courage was
invincible, whensoever it could only have order and concord within
itself and a prudent general to direct it. For though they had scarcely
been counted as any part of the ancient Grecian power, and at this time
did not equal the strength of one ordinary city, yet by prudence and
unanimity, and because they knew how not to envy and malign, but to
obey and follow him amongst them that was most eminent for virtue, they
not only preserved their own liberty in the midst of so many great
cities, military powers, and monarchies, but went on steadily saving
and delivering from slavery great numbers of the Greeks.
As for Aratus, he was in his behavior a true statesman, high-minded,
and more intent upon the public than his private concerns, a bitter
hater of tyrants, making the common good the rule and law of his
friendships and enmities. So that indeed he seems not to have been so
faithful a friend, as he was a reasonable and gentle enemy, ready,
according to the needs of the state, to suit himself on occasion to
either side; concord between nations, brotherhood between cities, the
council and the assembly unanimous in their votes, being the objects
above all other blessings to which he was passionately devoted;
backward, indeed, and diffident in the use of arms and open force, but
in effecting a purpose underhand, and outwitting cities and potentates
without observation, most politic and dexterous. Therefore, though he
succeeded beyond hope in many enterprises which he undertook, yet he
seems to have left quite as many unattempted, though feasible enough,
for want of assurance. For it should seem, that, as the sight of
certain beasts is strong in the night but dim by day, the tenderness of
the humors of their eyes not bearing the contact of the light, so there
is also one kind of human skill and sagacity which is easily daunted
and disturbed in actions done in the open day and before the world, and
recovers all its self-possession in secret and covert enterprises;
which inequality is occasioned in noble minds for want of philosophy, a
mere wild and uncultivated fruit of a virtue without true knowledge
coming up; as might be made out by examples.
Aratus, therefore, having associated himself and his city to the
Achaeans, served in the cavalry, and made himself much beloved by his
commanding officers for his exact obedience; for though he had made so
large an addition to the common strength as that of his own credit and
the power of his country, yet he was as ready as the most ordinary
person to be commanded by the Achaean general of the time being,
whether he were a man of Dymae, or of Tritaea, or any yet meaner town
than these. Having also a present of five and twenty talents sent him
from the king, he took them, but gave them all to his fellow-citizens,
who wanted money, amongst other purposes, for the redemption of those
who had been taken prisoners.
But the exiles being by no means to be satisfied, disturbing
continually those that were in possession of their estates, Sicyon was
in great danger of falling into perfect desolation; so that, having no
hope left but in the kindness of Ptolemy, he resolved to sail to him,
and to beg so much money of him as might reconcile all parties. So he
set sail from Mothone beyond Malea, designing to make the direct
passage. But the pilot not being able to keep the vessel up against a
strong wind and high waves that came in from the open sea, he was
driven from his course, and with much ado got to shore in Andros, an
enemy's land, possessed by Antigonus, who had a garrison there. To
avoid which he immediately landed, and, leaving the ship, went up into
the country a good way from the sea, having along with him only one
friend, called Timanthes; and throwing themselves into some ground
thickly covered with wood, they had but an ill night's rest of it. Not
long after, the commander of the troops came, and, inquiring for
Aratus, was deceived by his servants, who had been instructed to say
that he had fled at once over into the island of Euboea. However, he
declared the chip, the property on board of her, and the servants, to
be lawful prize, and detained them accordingly. As for Aratus, after
some few days, in his extremity by good fortune a Roman ship happened
to put in just at the spot in which he made his abode, sometimes
peeping out to seek his opportunity, sometimes keeping close. She was
bound for Syria; but going aboard, he agreed with the master to land
him in Caria. In which voyage he met with no less danger on the sea
than before. From Caria being after much time arrived in Egypt, he
immediately went to the king, who had a great kindness for him, and had
received from him many presents of drawings and paintings out of
Greece. Aratus had a very good judgment in them, and always took care
to collect and send him the most curious and finished works, especially
those of Pamphilus and Melanthus.
For the Sicyonian pieces were still in the height of their reputation,
as being the only ones whose colors were lasting; so that Apelles
himself, even after he had become well known and admired, went thither,
and gave a talent to be admitted into the society of the painters
there, not so much to partake of their skill, which he wanted not, but
of their credit. And accordingly Aratus, when he freed the city,
immediately took down the representations of the rest of the tyrants,
but demurred a long time about that of Aristratus, who flourished in
the time of Philip. For this Aristratus was painted by Melanthus and
his scholars, standing by a chariot, in which a figure of Victory was
carried, Apelles himself having had a hand in it, as Polemon the
geographer reports. It was an extraordinary piece, and therefore Aratus
was fain to spare it for the workmanship, and yet, instigated by the
hatred he bore the tyrants, commanded it to be taken down. But Nealces
the painter, one of Aratus's friends, entreated him, it is said, with
tears in his eyes, to spare it, and, finding he did not prevail with
him, told him at last he should carry on his war with the tyrants, but
with the tyrants alone: "Let therefore the chariot and the Victory
stand, and I will take means for the removal of Aristratus;" to which
Aratus consenting, Nealces blotted out Aristratus, and in his place
painted a palm-tree, not daring to add anything else of his own
invention. The feet of the defaced figure of Aristratus are said to
have escaped notice, and to be hid under the chariot. By these means
Aratus got favor with the king, who, after he was more fully acquainted
with him, loved him so much the more, and gave him for the relief of
his city one hundred and fifty talents; forty of which he immediately
carried away with him, when he sailed to Peloponnesus, but the rest the
king divided into installments, and sent them to him afterwards at
different times.
Assuredly it was a great thing to procure for his fellow-citizens a sum
of money, a small portion of which had been sufficient, when presented
by a king to other captains and popular leaders, to induce them to turn
dishonest, and betray and give away their native countries to him. But
it was a much greater, that by means of this money he effected a
reconciliation and good understanding between the rich and poor, and
created quiet and security for the whole people. His moderation, also,
amidst so great power was very admirable. For being declared sole
arbitrator and plenipotentiary for settling the questions of property
in the case of the exiles, he would not accept the commission alone,
but, associating with himself fifteen of the citizens, with great pains
and trouble he succeeded in adjusting matters, and established peace
and good-will in the city, for which good service, not only all the
citizens in general bestowed extraordinary honors upon him, but the
exiles, apart by themselves, erecting his statue in brass, inscribed on
it these elegiac verses: --
Your counsels, deeds, and skill for Greece in war
Known beyond Hercules's pillars are;
But we this image, O Aratus, gave
Of you who saved us, to the gods who save,
By you from exile to our homes restored,
That virtue and that justice to record,
To which the blessing Sicyon owes this day
Of wealth that's shared alike, and laws that all obey.
By his success in effecting these things, Aratus secured himself from
the envy of his fellow-citizens, on account of the benefits they felt
he had done them; but king Antigonus being troubled in his mind about
him, and designing either wholly to bring him over to his party, or
else to make him suspected by Ptolemy, besides other marks of his favor
shown to him, who had little mind to receive them, added this too,
that, sacrificing to the gods in Corinth, he sent portions to Aratus at
Sicyon, and at the feast, where were many guests, he said openly, "I
thought this Sicyonian youth had been only a lover of liberty and of
his fellow-citizens, but now I look upon him as a good judge of the
manners and actions of kings. For formerly he despised us, and, placing
his hopes further off, admired the Egyptian riches, hearing so much of
their elephants, fleets, and palaces. But after seeing all these at a
nearer distance, perceiving them to be but mere stage show and
pageantry, he is now come over to us. And for my part I willingly
receive him, and, resolving to make great use of him myself, command
you to look upon him as a friend." These words were soon taken hold of
by those that envied and maligned him, who strove which of them should,
in their letters to Ptolemy, attack him with the worst calumnies, so
that Ptolemy sent to expostulate the matter with him; so much envy and
ill-will did there always attend the so much contended for, and so
ardently and passionately aspired to, friendships of princes and great
men.
But Aratus, being now for the first time chosen general of the
Achaeans, ravaged the country of Locris and Calydon, just over against
Achaea, and then went to assist the Boeotians with ten thousand
soldiers, but came not up to them until after the battle near Chaeronea
had been fought, in which they were beaten by the Aetolians, with the
loss of Aboeocritus the Boeotarch, and a thousand men besides. A year
after, being again elected general, he resolved to attempt the capture
of the Acro-Corinthus, not so much for the advantage of the Sicyonians
or Achaeans, as considering that by expelling the Macedonian garrison
he should free all Greece alike from a tyranny which oppressed every
part of her. Chares the Athenian, having the good fortune to get the
better, in a certain battle, of the king's generals, wrote to the
people of Athens that this victory was "sister to that at Marathon."
And so may this action be very safely termed sister to those of
Pelopidas the Theban and Thrasybulus the Athenian, in which they slew
the tyrants; except, perhaps, it exceed them upon this account, that it
was not against natural Grecians, but against a foreign and stranger
domination. The Isthmus, rising like a bank between the seas, collects
into a single spot and compresses together the whole continent of
Greece; and Acro-Corinthus, being a high mountain springing up out of
the very middle of what here is Greece, whensoever it is held with a
garrison, stands in the way and cuts off all Peloponnesus from
intercourse of every kind, free passage of men and arms, and all
traffic by sea and land, and makes him lord of all, that is master of
it. Wherefore the younger Philip did not jest, but said very true, when
he called the city of Corinth "the fetters of Greece." So that this
post was always much contended for, especially by the kings and
tyrants; and so vehemently was it longed for by Antigonus, that his
passion for it came little short of that of frantic love; he was
continually occupied with devising how to take it by surprise from
those that were then masters of it, since he despaired to do it by open
force.
Therefore Alexander, who held the place, being dead, poisoned by him,
as is reported, and his wife Nicaea succeeding in the government and
the possession of Acro-Corinthus, he immediately made use of his son,
Demetrius, and, giving her pleasing hopes of a royal marriage and of a
happy life with a youth, whom a woman now growing old might well find
agreeable, with this lure of his son he succeeded in taking her; but
the place itself she did not deliver up, but continued to hold it with
a very strong garrison, of which he seeming to take no notice,
celebrated the wedding in Corinth, entertaining them with shows and
banquets everyday, as one that has nothing else in his mind but to give
himself up for awhile to indulgence in pleasure and mirth. But when the
moment came, and Amoebeus began to sing in the theater, he waited
himself upon Nicaea to the play, she being carried in a
royally-decorated chair, extremely pleased with her new honor, not
dreaming of what was intended. As soon, therefore, as they were come to
the turning which led up to the citadel, he desired her to go on before
him to the theater, but for himself, bidding farewell to the music,
farewell to the wedding, he went on faster than one would have thought
his age would have admitted to the Acro-Corinthus, and, finding the
gate shut, knocked with his staff, commanding them to open, which they
within, being amazed, did. And having thus made himself master of the
place, he could not contain himself for joy; but, though an old man,
and one that had seen so many turns of fortune, he must needs revel it
in the open streets and the midst of the market-place, crowned with
garlands and attended with flute-women, inviting everybody he met to
partake in his festivity. So much more does joy without discretion
transport and agitate the mind than either fear or sorrow. Antigonus,
therefore, having in this manner possessed himself of Acro-Corinthus,
put a garrison into it of those he trusted most, making Persaeus the
philosopher governor.
Now Aratus, even in the lifetime of Alexander, had made an attempt,
but, a confederacy being made between Alexander and the Achaeans, he
desisted. But now he started afresh, with a new plan of effecting the
thing, which was this: there were in Corinth four brothers, Syrians
born, one of whom, called Diocles, served as a soldier in the garrison,
but the three others, having stolen some gold of the king's, came to
Sicyon, to one Aegias, a banker, whom Aratus made use of in his
business. To him they immediately sold part of their gold, and the rest
one of them, called Erginus, coming often thither, exchanged by
parcels. Becoming, by this means, familiarly acquainted with Aegias,
and being by him led into discourses concerning the fortress, he told
him that in going up to his brother he had observed, in the face of the
rock, a side-cleft, leading to that part of the wall of the castle
which was lower than the rest. At which Aegias joking with him and
saying, "So, you wise man, for the sake of a little gold you have
broken into the king's treasure; when you might, if you chose, get
money in abundance for a single hour's work, burglary, you know, and
treason being punished with the same death," Erginus laughed and told
him then, he would break the thing to Diocles (for he did not
altogether trust his other brothers), and, returning within a few days,
he bargained to conduct Aratus to that part of the wall where it was no
more than fifteen feet high, and to do what else should be necessary,
together with his brother Diocles.
Aratus, therefore, agreed to give them sixty talents if he succeeded,
but if he failed in his enterprise, and yet he and they came off safe,
then he would give each of them a house and a talent. Now the
threescore talents being to be deposited in the hands of Aegias for
Erginus and his partners, and Aratus neither having so much by him, nor
willing, by borrowing it from others, to give anyone a suspicion of his
design, he pawned his plate and his wife's golden ornaments to Aegias
for the money. For so high was his temper, and so strong his passion
for noble actions, that, even as he had heard that Phocion and
Epaminondas were the best and justest of the Greeks, because they
refused the greatest presents and would not surrender their duty for
money, so he now chose to be at the expense of this enterprise
privately, and to advance all the cost out of his own property, taking
the whole hazard on himself for the sake of the rest that did not so
much as know what was doing. And who indeed can withhold, even now, his
admiration for and his sympathy with the generous mind of one, who paid
so largely to purchase so great a risk, and lent out his richest
possessions to have an opportunity to expose his own life, by entering
among his enemies in the dead of the night, without desiring any other
security for them than the hope of a noble success.
Now the enterprise, though dangerous enough in itself, was made much
more so by an error happening through mistake in the very beginning.
For Technon, one of Aratus's servants, was sent away to Diocles, that
they might together view the wall. Now he had never seen Diocles, but
made no question of knowing him by the marks Erginus had given him of
him; namely, that he had curly hair, a swarthy complexion, and no
beard. Being come, therefore, to the appointed place, he stayed waiting
for Erginus and Diocles outside the town, in front of the place called
Ornis. In the meantime, Dionysius, elder brother to Erginus and
Diocles, who knew nothing at all of the matter, but much resembled
Diocles, happened to pass by. Technon, upon this likeness, all being in
accordance with what he had been told, asked him if he knew Erginus;
and on his replying that he was his brother, taking it for granted that
he was speaking with Diocles, not so much as asking his name or staying
for any other token, he gave him his hand, and began to discourse with
him and ask him questions about matters agreed upon with Erginus.
Dionysius, cunningly taking the advantage of his mistake, seemed to
understand him very well, and returning towards the city, led him on,
still talking, without any suspicion. And being now near the gate, he
was just about to seize on him, when by chance again Erginus met them,
and, apprehending the cheat and the danger, beckoned to Technon to make
his escape, and immediately both of them, betaking themselves to their
heels, ran away as fast as they could to Aratus, who for all this
despaired not, but immediately sent away Erginus to Dionysius to bribe
him to hold his tongue. And he not only effected that, but also brought
him along with him to Aratus. But, when they had him, they no longer
left him at liberty, but binding him, they kept him close shut up in a
room, whilst they prepared for executing their design.
All things being now ready, he commanded the rest of his forces to pass
the night by their arms, and taking with him four hundred chosen men,
few of whom knew what they were going about, he led them to the gates
by the temple of Juno. It was the midst of summer, and the moon was at
full, and the night so clear without any clouds, that there was danger
lest the arms glistening in the moonlight should discover them. But as
the foremost of them came near the city, a mist came off from the sea,
and darkened the city itself and the outskirts about it. Then the rest
of them, sitting down, put off their shoes, because men both make less
noise and also climb surer, if they go up ladders barefooted, but
Erginus, taking with him seven young men dressed like travelers, got
unobserved to the gate, and killed the sentry with the other guards.
And at the same time the ladders were clapped to the walls, and Aratus,
having in great haste got up a hundred men, commended the rest to
follow as they could, and immediately drawing up his ladders after him,
he marched through the city with his hundred men towards the castle,
being already overjoyed that he was undiscovered, and not doubting of
the success. But while still they were some way off, a watch of four
men came with a light, who did not see them, because they were still in
the shade of the moon, but were seen plainly enough themselves as they
came on directly towards them. So withdrawing a little way amongst some
walls and plots for houses, they lay in wait for them; and three of
them they killed. But the fourth, being wounded in the head with a
sword, fled, crying out that the enemy was in the city. And immediately
the trumpets sounded, and all the city was in an uproar at what had
happened, and the streets were full of people running up and down, and
many lights were seen shining both below in the town, and above in the
castle, and a confused noise was to be heard in all parts.
In the meantime, Aratus was hard at work struggling to get up the
rocks, at first slowly and with much difficulty, straying continually
from the path, which lay deep, and was overshadowed with the crags,
leading to the wall with many windings and turnings; but the moon
immediately and as if by miracle, it is said, dispersing the clouds,
shone out and gave light to the most difficult part of the way, until
he got to that part of the wall he desired, and there she overshadowed
and hid him, the clouds coming together again. Those soldiers whom
Aratus had left outside the gate, near Juno's temple, to the number of
three hundred, entering the town, now full of tumult and lights, and
not knowing the way by which the former had gone, and finding no track
of them, slunk aside, and crowded together in one body under a flank of
the cliff that cast a strong shadow, and there stood and waited in
great distress and perplexity. For, by this time, those that had gone
with Aratus were attacked with missiles from the citadel, and were busy
fighting, and a sound of cries of battle came down from above, and a
loud noise, echoed back and back from the mountain sides, and therefore
confused and uncertain whence it proceeded, was heard on all sides.
They being thus in doubt which way to turn themselves, Archelaus, the
commander of Antigonus's troops, having a great number of soldiers with
him, made up towards the castle with great shouts and noise of trumpets
to fall upon Aratus's people, and passed by the three hundred, who, as
if they had risen out of an ambush, immediately charged him, killing
the first they encountered, and so affrighted the rest, together with
Archelaus, that they put them to flight and pursued them until they had
quite broke and dispersed them about the city. No sooner were these
defeated, but Erginus came to them from those that were fighting above,
to acquaint them that Aratus was engaged with the enemy, who defended
themselves very stoutly, and there was a fierce conflict at the very
wall, and need of speedy help. They therefore desired him to lead them
on without delay, and, marching up, they by their shouts made their
friends understand who they were, and encouraged them; and the full
moon, shining on their arms, made them, in the long line by which they
advanced, appear more in number to the enemy than they were; and the
echo of the night multiplied their shouts. In short, falling on with
the rest, they made the enemy give way, and were masters of the castle
and garrison, day now beginning to be bright, and the rising sun
shining out upon their success. By this time, also, the rest of his
army came up to Aratus from Sicyon, the Corinthians joyfully receiving
them at the gates and helping them to secure the king's party.
And now, having put all things into a safe posture, he came down from
the castle to the theater, an infinite number of people crowding
thither to see him and to hear what he would say to the Corinthians.
Therefore drawing up the Achaeans on each side of the stage-passages,
he came forward himself upon the stage, with his corslet still on, and
his face showing the effects of all his hard work and want of sleep, so
that his natural exultation and joyfulness of mind were overborne by
the weariness of his body. The people, as soon as he came forth,
breaking out into great applauses and congratulations, he took his
spear in his right hand, and, resting his body upon it with his knee a
little bent, stood a good while in that posture, silently receiving
their shouts and acclamations, while they extolled his valor and
wondered at his fortune; which being over, standing up, he began an
oration in the name of the Achaeans, suitable to the late action,
persuading the Corinthians to associate themselves to the Achaeans, and
withal delivered up to them the keys of their gates, which had never
been in their power since the time of king Philip. Of the captains of
Antigonus, he dismissed Archelaus, whom he had taken prisoner, and
Theophrastus, who refused to quit his post, he put to death. As for
Persaeus, when he saw the castle was lost, he had got away to
Cenchreae, where, some time after, discoursing with one that said to
him that the wise man only is a true general, "Indeed," he replied,
"none of Zeno's maxims once pleased me better than this, but I have
been converted to another opinion by the young man of Sicyon." This is
told by many of Persaeus. Aratus, immediately after, made himself
master of the temple of Juno and haven of Lechaeum, seized upon five
and twenty of the king's ships, together with five hundred horses and
four hundred Syrians; these he sold. The Achaeans kept guard in the
Acro-Corinthus with a body of four hundred soldiers, and fifty dogs
with as many keepers.
The Romans, extolling Philopoemen, called him the last of the Grecians,
as if no great man had ever since his time been bred amongst them. But
I should call this capture of the Acro-Corinthus the last of the
Grecian exploits, being comparable to the best of them, both for the
daringness of it, and the success, as was presently seen by the
consequences. For the Megarians, revolting from Antigonus, joined
Aratus, and the Troezenians and Epidaurians enrolled themselves in the
Achaean community, and issuing forth for the first time, he entered
Attica, and passing over into Salamis, he plundered the island, turning
the Achaean force every way, as if it were just let loose out of prison
and set at liberty. All freemen whom he took he sent back to the
Athenians without ransom, as a sort of first invitation to them to come
over to the league. He made Ptolemy become a confederate of the
Achaeans, with the privilege of command both by sea and land. And so
great was his power with them, that since he could not by law be chosen
their general every year, yet every other year he was, and by his
counsels and actions was in effect always so. For they perceived that
neither riches nor reputation, nor the friendship of kings, nor the
private interest of his own country, nor anything else was so dear to
him as the increase of the Achaean power and greatness. For he believed
that the cities, weak individually, could be preserved by nothing else
but a mutual assistance under the closest bond of the common interest;
and, as the members of the body live and breathe by the union of all in
a single natural growth, and on the dissolution of this, when once they
separate, pine away and putrefy, in the same manner are cities ruined
by being dissevered, as well as preserved when, as the members of one
great body they enjoy the benefit of that providence and counsel that
govern the whole.
Now being distressed to see that, whereas the chief neighboring cities
enjoyed their own laws and liberties, the Argives were in bondage, he
took counsel for destroying their tyrant Aristomachus, being very
desirous both to pay his debt of gratitude to the city where he had
been bred up, by restoring it its liberty, and to add so considerable a
town to the Achaeans. Nor were there some wanting who had the courage
to undertake the thing, of whom Aeschylus and Charimenes the soothsayer
were the chief. But they wanted swords; for the tyrant had prohibited
the keeping of any under a great penalty. Therefore Aratus, having
provided some small daggers at Corinth and hidden them in the
pack-saddles of some pack-horses that carried ordinary ware, sent them
to Argos. But Charimenes letting another person into the design,
Aeschylus and his partners were angry at it, and henceforth would have
no more to do with him, and took their measures by themselves, and
Charimenes, on finding this, went, out of anger, and informed against
them, just as they were on their way to attack the tyrant; however, the
most of them made a shift to escape out of the marketplace, and fled to
Corinth. Not long after, Aristomachus was slain by some slaves, and
Aristippus, a worse tyrant than he, seized the government. Upon this,
Aratus, mustering all the Achaeans present that were of age, hurried
away to the aid of the city, believing that he should find the people
ready to join with him. But the greater number being by this time
habituated to slavery and content to submit, and no one coming to join
him, he was obliged to retire, having moreover exposed the Achaeans to
the charge of committing acts of hostility in the midst of peace; upon
which account they were sued before the Mantineans, and, Aratus not
making his appearance, Aristippus gained the cause, and had damages
allowed him to the value of thirty minae. And now hating and fearing
Aratus, he sought means to kill him, having the assistance herein of
king Antigonus; so that Aratus was perpetually dogged and watched by
those that waited for an opportunity to do this service. But there is
no such safeguard of a ruler as the sincere and steady good-will of his
subjects, for, where both the common people and the principal citizens
have their fears not of but for their governor, he sees with many eyes
and hears with many ears whatsoever is doing. Therefore I cannot but
here stop short a little in the course of my narrative, to describe the
manner of life which the so much envied arbitrary power and the so much
celebrated and admired pomp and pride of absolute government obliged
Aristippus to lead.
For though Antigonus was his friend and ally, and though he maintained
numerous soldiers to act as his body-guard, and had not left one enemy
of his alive in the city, yet he was forced to make his guards encamp
in the colonnade about his house; and for his servants, he turned them
all out immediately after supper, and then shutting the doors upon
them, he crept up into a small upper chamber, together with his
mistress, through a trapdoor, upon which he placed his bed, and there
slept after: such a fashion, as one in his condition can be supposed to
sleep, that is, interruptedly and in fear. The ladder was taken away by
the woman's mother, and locked up in another room; in the morning she
brought it again, and putting it to, called up this brave and wonderful
tyrant, who came crawling out like some creeping thing out of its hole.
Whereas Aratus, not by force of arms, but lawfully and by his virtue,
lived in possession of a firmly settled command, wearing the ordinary
coat and cloak, being the common and declared enemy of all tyrants, and
has left behind him a noble race of descendants surviving among the
Grecians to this day; while those occupiers of citadels and maintainers
of bodyguards, who made all this use of arms and gates and bolts to
protect their lives, in some few cases perhaps escaped, like the hare
from the hunters; but in no instance have we either house or family, or
so much as a tomb to which any respect is shown, remaining to preserve
the memory of any one of them.
Against this Aristippus, therefore, Aratus made many open and many
secret attempts, whilst he endeavored to take Argos, though without
success; once, particularly, clapping scaling ladders in the night to
the wall, he desperately got up upon it with a few of his soldiers, and
killed the guards that opposed him. But the day appearing, the tyrant
set upon him on all hands, whilst the Argives, as if it had not been
their liberty that was contended for, but some Nemean game going on for
which it was their privilege to assign the prize, like fair and
impartial judges, sat looking on in great quietness. Aratus, fighting
bravely, was run through the thigh with a lance, yet he maintained his
ground against the enemy till night, and, had he been able to go on and
hold out that night also, he had gained his point; for the tyrant
thought of nothing but flying, and had already shipped most of his
goods. But Aratus, having no intelligence of this, and wanting water,
being disabled himself by his wound, retreated with his soldiers.
Despairing henceforth to do any good this way, he fell openly with his
army into Argolis, and plundered it, and, in a fierce battle with
Aristippus near the river Chares, he was accused of having withdrawn
out of the fight, and thereby abandoned the victory. For whereas one
part of his army had unmistakably got the better, and was pursuing the
enemy at a good distance from him, he yet retreated in confusion into
his camp, not so much because he was overpressed by those with whom he
was engaged, as out of mistrust of success and through a panic fear.
But when the other wing, returning from the pursuit, showed themselves
extremely vexed, that though they had put the enemy to flight and
killed many more of his men than they had lost, yet those that were in
a manner conquered should erect a trophy as conquerors, being much
ashamed he resolved to fight them again about the trophy, and the next
day but one drew up his army to give them battle. But, perceiving that
they were reinforced with fresh troops, and came on with better courage
than before, he durst not hazard a fight, but retired, and sent to
request a truce to bury his dead. However, by his dexterity in dealing
personally with men and managing political affairs, and by his general
favor, he excused and obliterated this fault, and brought in Cleonae to
the Achaean association, and celebrated the Nemean games at Cleonae, as
the proper and more ancient place for them. The games were also
celebrated by the Argives at the same time, which gave the first
occasion to the violation of the privilege of safe conduct and immunity
always granted to those that came to compete for the prizes, the
Achaeans at that time selling as enemies all those they caught going
through their country after joining in the games at Argos. So vehement
and implacable a hater was he of the tyrants.
Not long after, having notice that Aristippus had a design upon
Cleonae, but was afraid of him, because he then was staying in Corinth,
he assembled an army by public proclamation, and, commanding them to
take along with them provision for several days, he marched to
Cenchreae, hoping by this stratagem to entice Aristippus to fall upon
Cleonae, when he supposed him far enough off. And so it happened, for
he immediately brought his forces against it from Argos. But Aratus,
returning from Cenchreae to Corinth in the dusk of the evening, and
setting posts of his troops in all the roads, led on the Achaeans, who
followed him in such good order and with so much speed and alacrity,
that they were undiscovered by Aristippus, not only whilst upon their
march, but even when they got, still in the night, into Cleonae, and
drew up in order of battle. As soon as it was morning, the gates being
opened and the trumpets sounding, he fell upon the enemy with great
cries and fury, routed them at once, and kept close in pursuit,
following the course which he most imagined Aristippus would choose,
there being many turns that might be taken. And so the chase lasted as
far as Mycenae, where the tyrant was slain by a certain Cretan called
Tragiscus, as Dinias reports. Of the common soldiers, there fell above
fifteen hundred. Yet though Aratus had obtained so great a victory, and
that too without the loss of a man, he could not make himself master of
Argos nor set it at liberty, because Agias and the younger Aristomachus
got into the town with some of the king's forces, and seized upon the
government. However, by this exploit he spoiled the scoffs and jests of
those that flattered the tyrants, and in their raillery would say that
the Achaean general was usually troubled with a looseness when he was
to fight a battle, that the sound of a trumpet struck him with a
drowsiness and a giddiness, and that, when he had drawn up his army and
given the word, he used to ask his lieutenants and officers whether
there was any further need of his presence now the die was cast, and
then went aloof, to await the result at a distance. For indeed these
stories were so generally listened to, that, when the philosophers
disputed whether to have one's heart beat and to change color upon any
apparent danger be an argument of fear, or rather of some
distemperature and chilliness of bodily constitution, Aratus was always
quoted as a good general, who was always thus affected ill time of
battle.
Having thus dispatched Aristippus, he advised with himself how to
overthrow Lydiades, the Megalopolitan, who held usurped power over his
country. This person was naturally of a generous temper, and not
insensible of true honor, and had been led into this wickedness, not by
the ordinary motives of other tyrants, licentiousness and rapacity, but
being young, and stimulated with the desire of glory, he had let his
mind be unwarily prepossessed with the vain and false applauses given
to tyranny, as some happy and glorious thing. But he no sooner seized
the government, than he grew weary of the pomp and burden of it. And at
once emulating the tranquillity and fearing the policy of Aratus, he
took the best of resolutions, first, to free himself from hatred and
fear, from soldiers and guards, and, secondly, to be the public
benefactor of his country. And sending for Aratus, he resigned the
government, and incorporated his city into the Achaean community. The
Achaeans, applauding this generous action, chose him their general;
upon which, desiring to outdo Aratus in glory, amongst many other
uncalled-for things, he declared war against the Lacedaemonians; which
Aratus opposing was thought to do it out of envy; and Lydiades was the
second time chosen general, though Aratus acted openly against him, and
labored to have the office conferred upon another. For Aratus himself
had the command every other year, as has been said. Lydiades, however,
succeeded so well in his pretensions, that he was thrice chosen
general, governing alternately, as did Aratus; but at last, declaring
himself his professed enemy, and accusing him frequently to the
Achaeans, he was rejected, and fell into contempt, people now seeing
that it was a contest between a counterfeit and a true, unadulterated
virtue, and, as Aesop tells us that the cuckoo once, asking the little
birds why they flew away from her, was answered, because they feared
she would one day prove a hawk, so Lydiades's former tyranny still cast
a doubt upon the reality of his change.
But Aratus gained new honor in the Aetolian war. For the Achaeans
resolving to fall upon the Aetolians on the Megarian confines, and Agis
also, the Lacedaemonian king, who came to their assistance with an
army, encouraging them to fight, Aratus opposed this determination. And
patiently enduring many reproaches, many scoffs and jeerings at his
soft and cowardly temper, he would not, for any appearance of disgrace,
abandon what he judged to be the true common advantage, and suffered
the enemy to pass over Geranea into Peloponnesus without a battle. But
when, after they had passed by, news came that they had suddenly
captured Pellene, he was no longer the same man, nor would he hear of
any delay, or wait to draw together his whole force, but marched
towards the enemy with such as he had about him to fall upon them, as
they were indeed now much less formidable through the intemperances and
disorders committed in their success. For as soon as they entered the
city, the common soldiers dispersed and went hither and thither into
the houses, quarreling and fighting with one another about the plunder;
and the officers and commanders were running about after the wives and
daughters of the Pellenians, on whose heads they put their own helmets,
to mark each man his prize, and prevent another from seizing it. And in
this posture were they when news came that Aratus was ready to fall
upon them. And in the midst of the consternation likely to ensue in the
confusion they were in, before all of them heard of the danger, the
outmost of them, engaging at the gates and in the suburbs with the
Achaeans, were already beaten and put to flight, and, as they came
headlong back, filled with their panic those who were collecting and
advancing to their assistance.
In this confusion, one of the captives, daughter of Epigethes, a
citizen of repute, being extremely handsome and tall, happened to be
sitting in the temple of Diana, placed there by the commander of the
band of chosen men, who had taken her and put his crested helmet upon
her. She, hearing the noise, and running out to see what was the
matter, stood in the temple gates, looking down from above upon those
that fought, having the helmet upon her head; in which posture she
seemed to the citizens to be something more than human, and struck fear
and dread into the enemy, who believed it to be a divine apparition; so
that they lost all courage to defend themselves. But the Pellenians
tell us that the image of Diana stands usually untouched, and when the
priestess happens at any time to remove it to some other place, nobody
dares look upon it, but all turn their faces from it; for not only is
the sight of it terrible and hurtful to mankind, but it makes even the
trees, by which it happens to be carried, become barren and cast their
fruit. This image, therefore, they say, the priestess produced at that
time, and, holding it directly in the faces of the Aetolians, made them
lose their reason and judgment. But Aratus mentions no such thing in
his commentaries, but says, that, having put to flight the Aetolians,
and falling in pell-mell with them into the city, he drove them out by
main force, and killed seven hundred of them. And the action was
extolled as one of the most famous exploits, and Timanthes the painter
made a picture of the battle, giving by his composition a most lively
representation of it.
But many great nations and potentates combining against the Achaeans,
Aratus immediately treated for friendly arrangements with the
Aetolians, and, making use of the assistance of Pantaleon, the most
powerful man amongst them, he not only made a peace, but an alliance
between them and the Achaeans. But being desirous to free the
Athenians, he got into disgrace and ill-repute among the Achaeans,
because, notwithstanding the truce and suspension of arms made between
them and the Macedonians, he had attempted to take the Piraeus. He
denies this fact in his commentaries, and lays the blame on Erginus, by
whose assistance he took Acro-Corinthus, alleging that he upon his own
private account attacked the Piraeus, and, his ladders happening to
break, being hotly pursued, he called out upon Aratus as if present, by
which means deceiving the enemy, he got safely off. This excuse,
however, sounds very improbable; for it is not in any way likely that
Erginus, a private man and a Syrian stranger, should conceive in his
mind so great an attempt, without Aratus at his back, to tell him how
and when to make it, and to supply him with the means. Nor was it twice
or thrice, but very often, that, like an obstinate lover, he repeated
his attempts on the Piraeus, and was so far from being discouraged by
his disappointments, that his missing his hopes but narrowly was an
incentive to him to proceed the more boldly in a new trial. One time
amongst the rest, in making his escape through the Thriasian plain, he
put his leg out of joint, and was forced to submit to many operations
with the knife before he was cured, so that for a long time he was
carried in a litter to the wars.
And when Antigonus was dead, and Demetrius succeeded him in the
kingdom, he was more bent than ever upon Athens, and in general quite
despised the Macedonians. And so, being overthrown in battle near
Phylacia by Bithys, Demetrius's general, and there being a very strong
report that he was either taken or slain, Diogenes, the governor of the
Piraeus, sent letters to Corinth, commanding the Achaeans to quit that
city, seeing Aratus was dead. When these letters came to Corinth,
Aratus happened to be there in person, so that Diogenes's messengers,
being sufficiently mocked and derided, were forced to return to their
master. King Demetrius himself also sent a ship, wherein Aratus was to
be brought to him in chains. And the Athenians, exceeding all possible
fickleness of flattery to the Macedonians, crowned themselves with
garlands upon the first news of his death. And so in anger he went at
once and invaded Attica, and penetrated as far as the Academy, but then
suffering himself to be pacified, he did no further act of hostility.
And the Athenians afterwards, coming to a due sense of his virtue, when
upon the death of Demetrius they attempted to recover their liberty,
called him in to their assistance; and although at that time another
person was general of the Achaeans, and he himself had long kept his
bed with a sickness, yet, rather than fail the city in a time of need,
he was carried thither in a litter, and helped to persuade Diogenes the
governor to deliver up the Piraeus, Munychia, Salamis, and Sunium to
the Athenians in consideration of a hundred and fifty talents, of which
Aratus himself contributed twenty to the city. Upon this, the
Aeginetans and the Hermionians immediately joined the Achaeans, and the
greatest part of Arcadia entered their confederacy; and the Macedonians
being occupied with various wars upon their own confines and with their
neighbors, the Achaean power, the Aetolians also being in alliance with
them, rose to great height.
But Aratus, still bent on effecting his old project, and impatient that
tyranny should maintain itself in so near a city as Argos, sent to
Aristomachus to persuade him to restore liberty to that city, and to
associate it to the Achaeans, and that, following Lydiades's example,
he should rather choose to be the general of a great nation, with
esteem and honor, than the tyrant of one city, with continual hatred
and danger. Aristomachus slighted not the message, but desired Aratus
to send him fifty talents, with which he might pay off the soldiers. In
the meantime, whilst the money was providing, Lydiades, being then
general, and extremely ambitious that this advantage might seem to be
of his procuring for the Achaeans, accused Aratus to Aristomachus, as
one that bore an irreconcilable hatred to the tyrants, and, persuading
him to commit the affair to his management, he presented him to the
Achaeans. But there the Achaean council gave a manifest proof of the
great credit Aratus had with them and the good-will they bore him. For
when he, in anger, spoke against Aristomachus's being admitted into the
association, they rejected the proposal, but when he was afterwards
pacified and came himself and spoke in its favor, they voted everything
cheerfully and readily, and decreed that the Argives and Phliasians
should be incorporated into their commonwealth, and the next year they
chose Aristomachus general. He, being in good credit with the Achaeans,
was very desirous to invade Laconia, and for that purpose sent for
Aratus from Athens. Aratus wrote to him to dissuade him as far as he
could from that expedition, being very unwilling the Achaeans should be
engaged in a quarrel with Cleomenes, who was a daring man, and making
extraordinary advances to power. But Aristomachus resolving to go on,
he obeyed and served in person, on which occasion he hindered
Aristomachus from fighting a battle, when Cleomenes came upon them at
Pallantium; and for this act was accused by Lydiades, and, coming to an
open conflict with him in a contest for the office of general, he
carried it by the show of hands, and was chosen general the twelfth
time.
This year, being routed by Cleomenes near the Lycaeum, he fled, and,
wandering out of the way in the night, was believed to be slain; and
once more it was confidently reported so throughout all Greece. He,
however, having escaped this danger and rallied his forces, was not
content to march off in safety, but, making a happy use of the present
conjuncture, when nobody dreamed any such thing, he fell suddenly upon
the Mantineans, allies of Cleomenes, and, taking the city, put a
garrison into it, and made the stranger inhabitants free of the city;
procuring, by this means, those advantages for the beaten Achaeans,
which, being conquerors, they would not easily have obtained. The
Lacedaemonians again invading the Megalopolitan territories, he marched
to the assistance of the city, but refused to give Cleomenes, who did
all he could to provoke him to it, any opportunity of engaging him in a
battle, nor could be prevailed upon by the Megalopolitans, who urged
him to it extremely. For besides that by nature he was ill-suited for
set battles, he was then much inferior in numbers, and was to deal with
a daring leader, still in the heat of youth, while he himself, now past
the prime of courage and come to a chastised ambition, felt it his
business to maintain by prudence the glory, which he had obtained, and
the other was only aspiring to by forwardness and daring.
So that though the light-armed soldiers had sallied out and driven the
Lacedaemonians as far as their camp, and had come even to their tents,
yet would not Aratus lead his men forward, but, posting himself in a
hollow watercourse in the way thither, stopped and prevented the
citizens from crossing this. Lydiades, extremely vexed at what was
going on, and loading Aratus with reproaches, entreated the horse that
together with him they would second them that had the enemy in chase,
and not let a certain victory slip out of their hands, nor forsake him
that was going to venture his life for his country. And being
reinforced with many brave men that turned after him, he charged the
enemy's right wing, and routing it, followed the pursuit without
measure or discretion, letting his eagerness and hopes of glory tempt
him on into broken ground, full of planted fruit trees and cut up with
broad ditches, where, being engaged by Cleomenes, he fell, fighting
gallantly the noblest of battles, at the gate of his country. The rest,
flying back to their main body and troubling the ranks of the
full-armed infantry, put the whole army to the rout. Aratus was
extremely blamed, being suspected to have betrayed Lydiades, and was
constrained by the Achaeans, who withdrew in great anger, to accompany
them to Aegium, where they called a council, and decreed that he should
no longer be furnished with money, nor have any more soldiers hired for
him, but that, if he would make war, he should pay them himself.
This affront he resented so far as to resolve to give up the seal and
lay down the office of general; but upon second thoughts he found it
best to have patience, and presently marched with the Achaeans to
Orchomenus and fought a battle with Megistonus, the step-father of
Cleomenes, where he got the victory, killing three hundred men and
taking Megistonus prisoner. But whereas he used to be chosen general
every other year, when his turn came and he was called to take upon him
that charge, he declined it, and Timoxenus was chosen in his stead. The
true cause of which was not the pique he was alleged to have taken at
the people, but the ill circumstances of the Achaean affairs. For
Cleomenes did not now invade them gently and tenderly as hitherto, as
one controlled by the civil authorities, but having killed the Ephors,
divided the lands, and made many of the stranger residents free of the
city, he was responsible to no one in his government; and therefore
fell in good earnest upon the Achaeans, and put forward his claim to
the supreme military command. Wherefore Aratus is much blamed, that in
a stormy and tempestuous time, like a cowardly pilot, he should forsake
the helm, when it was even perhaps his duty to have insisted, whether
they would or no, on saving them; or if he thought the Achaean affairs
desperate, to have yielded all up to Cleomenes, and not to have let
Peloponnesus fall once again into barbarism with Macedonian garrisons,
and Acro-Corinthus be occupied with Illyric and Gaulish soldiers, and,
under the specious name of Confederates, to have made those masters of
the cities whom he had held it his business by arms and by policy to
baffle and defeat, and, in the memoirs he left behind him, loaded with
reproaches and insults. And say that Cleomenes was arbitrary and
tyrannical, yet was he descended from the Heraclidae, and Sparta was
his country, the obscurest citizen of which deserved to be preferred to
the generalship before the best of the Macedonians by those that had
any regard to the honor of Grecian birth. Besides, Cleomenes sued for
that command over the Achaeans as one that would return the honor of
that title with real kindnesses to the cities; whereas Antigonus, being
declared absolute general by sea and land, would not accept the office
unless Acro-Corinthus were by special agreement put into his hands,
following the example of Aesop's hunter; for he would not get up and
ride the Achaeans, who desired him so to do, and offered their backs to
him by embassies and popular decrees, till, by a garrison and hostages,
they had allowed him to bit and bridle them. Aratus exhausts all his
powers of speech to show the necessity that was upon him. But Polybius
writes, that long before this, and before there was any necessity,
apprehending the daring temper of Cleomenes, he communicated secretly
with Antigonus, and that he had beforehand prevailed with the
Megalopolitans to press the Achaeans to crave aid from Antigonus. For
they were the most harassed by the war, Cleomenes continually
plundering and ransacking their country. And so writes also Phylarchus,
who, unless seconded by the testimony of Polybius, would not be
altogether credited; for he is seized with enthusiasm when he so much
as speaks a word of Cleomenes, and as if he were pleading, not writing
a history, goes on throughout defending the one and accusing the other.
The Achaeans, therefore, lost Mantinea, which was recovered by
Cleomenes, and being beaten in a great fight near Hecatombaeum, so
general was the consternation, that they immediately sent to Cleomenes
to desire him to come to Argos and take the command upon him. But
Aratus, as soon as he understood that he was coming, and was got as far
as Lerna with his troops, fearing the result, sent ambassadors to him,
to request him to come accompanied with three hundred only, as to
friends and confederates, and, if he mistrusted anything, he should
receive hostages. Upon which Cleomenes, saying this was mere mockery
and affront, went away, sending a letter to the Achaeans full of
reproaches and accusation against Aratus. And Aratus also wrote letters
against Cleomenes; and bitter revilings and railleries were current on
both hands, not sparing even their marriages and wives. Hereupon
Cleomenes sent a herald to declare war against the Achaeans, and in the
meantime missed very narrowly of taking Sicyon by treachery. Turning
off at a little distance, he attacked and took Pellene, which the
Achaean general abandoned, and not long after took also Pheneus and
Penteleum. Then immediately the Argives voluntarily joined with him,
and the Phliasians received a garrison, and in short nothing among all
their new acquisitions held firm to the Achaeans. Aratus was
encompassed on every side with clamor and confusion; he saw the whole
of Peloponnesus shaking around him, and the cities everywhere set in
revolt by men desirous of innovations.
For indeed no place remained quiet or satisfied with the present
condition; even amongst the Sicyonians and Corinthians themselves, many
were well known to have had private conferences with Cleomenes, who
long since, out of desire to make themselves masters of their several
cities, had been discontented with the present order of things. Aratus,
having absolute power given him to bring these to condign punishment,
executed as many of them as he could find at Sicyon, but going about to
find them out and punish them at Corinth also, he irritated the people,
already unsound in feeling and weary of the Achaean government. So
collecting tumultuously in the temple of Apollo, they sent for Aratus,
having determined to take or kill him before they broke out into open
revolt. He came accordingly, leading his horse in his hand, as if he
suspected nothing. Then several leaping up and accusing and reproaching
him, with mild words and a settled countenance he bade them sit down,
and not stand crying out upon him in a disorderly manner, desiring,
also, that those that were about the door might be let in, and saying
so, he stepped out quietly, as if he would give his horse to somebody.
Clearing himself thus of the crowd, and speaking without discomposure
to the Corinthians that he met, commanding them to go to Apollo's
temple, and being now, before they were aware, got near to the citadel,
he leaped upon his horse, and commanding Cleopater, the governor of the
garrison, to have a special care of his charge, he galloped to Sicyon,
followed by thirty of his soldiers, the rest leaving him and shifting
for themselves. And not long after, it being known that he was fled,
the Corinthians pursued him, but not overtaking him, they immediately
sent for Cleomenes and delivered up the city to him, who, however,
thought nothing they could give was so great a gain, as was the loss of
their having let Aratus get away. Nevertheless, being strengthened by
the accession of the people of the Acte, as it is called, who put their
towns into his hands, he proceeded to carry a palisade and lines of
circumvallation around the Acro-Corinthus.
But Aratus being arrived at Sicyon, the body of the Achaeans there
flocked to him, and, in an assembly there held, he was chosen general
with absolute power, and he took about him a guard of his own citizens,
it being now three and thirty years since he first took a part in
public affairs among the Achaeans, having in that time been the chief
man in credit and power of all Greece; but he was now deserted on all
hands, helpless and overpowered, drifting about amidst the waves and
danger on the shattered hulk of his native city. For the Aetolians,
affected whom he applied to, declined to assist him in his distress,
and the Athenians, who were well affected to him, were diverted from
lending him any succor by the authority of Euclides and Micion. Now
whereas he had a house and property in Corinth, Cleomenes meddled not
with it, nor suffered anybody else to do so, but calling for his
friends and agents, he bade them hold themselves responsible to Aratus
for everything, as to him they would have to render their account; and
privately he sent to him Tripylus, and afterwards Megistonus, his own
stepfather, to offer him, besides several other things, a yearly
pension of twelve talents, which was twice as much as Ptolemy allowed
him, for he gave him six; and all that he demanded was to be declared
commander of the Achaeans, and together with them to have the keeping
of the citadel of Corinth. To which Aratus returning answer that
affairs were not so properly in his power as he was in the power of
them, Cleomenes, believing this a mere evasion, immediately entered the
country of Sicyon, destroying all with fire and sword, and besieged the
city three months, whilst Aratus held firm, and was in dispute with
himself whether he should call in Antigonus upon condition of
delivering up the citadel of Corinth to him; for he would not lend him
assistance upon any other terms.
In the meantime the Achaeans assembled at Aegium, and called for
Aratus; but it was very hazardous for him to pass thither, while
Cleomenes was encamped before Sicyon; besides, the citizens endeavored
to stop him by their entreaties, protesting that they would not suffer
him to expose himself to so evident danger, the enemy being so near;
the women, also, and children hung about him, weeping and embracing him
as their common father and defender. But he, having comforted and
encouraged them as well as he could, got on horseback, and being
accompanied with ten of his friends and his son, then a youth, got away
to the sea-side, and finding vessels there waiting off the shore, went
on board of them and sailed to Aegium to the assembly; in which it was
decreed that Antigonus should be called in to their aid, and should
have the Acro-Corinthus delivered to him. Aratus also sent his son to
him with the other hostages. The Corinthians, extremely angry at this
proceeding, now plundered his property, and gave his house as a present
to Cleomenes.
Antigonus being now near at hand with his army, consisting of twenty
thousand Macedonian foot and one thousand three hundred horse, Aratus,
with the Members of Council, went to meet him by sea, and got,
unobserved by the enemy, to Pegae, having no great confidence either in
Antigonus or the Macedonians. For he was very sensible that his own
greatness had been made out of the losses he had caused them, and that
the first great principle of his public conduct had been hostility to
the former Antigonus. But perceiving the necessity that was now upon
him, and the pressure of the time, that lord and master of those we
call rulers, to be inexorable, he resolved to put all to the venture.
So soon, therefore, as Antigonus was told that Aratus was coming up to
him, he saluted the rest of the company after the ordinary manner, but
him he received at the very first approach with especial honor, and
finding him afterwards to be both good and wise, admitted him to his
nearer familiarity. For Aratus was not only useful to him in the
management of great affairs, but singularly agreeable also as the
private companion of a king in his recreations. And therefore, though
Antigonus was young, yet as soon as he observed the temper of the man
to be proper for a prince's friendship, he made more use of him than of
any other, not only of the Achaeans, but also of the Macedonians that
were about him. So that the thing fell out to him just as the god had
foreshown in a sacrifice. For it is related that, as Aratus was not
long before offering sacrifice, there were found in the liver two
gall-bags enclosed in the same caul of fat; whereupon the soothsayer
told him that there should very soon be the strictest friendship
imaginable between him and his greatest and most mortal enemies; which
prediction he at that time slighted, having in general no great faith
in soothsayings and prognostications, but depending most upon rational
deliberation. At an after time, however, when, things succeeding well
in the war, Antigonus made a great feast at Corinth, to which he
invited a great number of guests, and placed Aratus next above himself,
and presently calling for a coverlet, asked him if he did not find it
cold, and on Aratus's answering "Yes, extremely cold," bade him come
nearer, so that when the servants brought the coverlet, they threw it
over them both, then Aratus remembering the sacrifice, fell a laughing,
and told the king the sign which had happened to him, and the
interpretation of it. But this fell out a good while after.
So Aratus and the king, plighting their faith to each other at Pegae,
immediately marched towards the enemy, with whom they had frequent
engagements near the city, Cleomenes maintaining a strong position, and
the Corinthians making a very brisk defense. In the meantime,
Aristoteles the Argive, Aratus's friend, sent privately to him to let
him know, that he would cause Argos to revolt, if he would come thither
in person with some soldiers. Aratus acquainted Antigonus, and, taking
fifteen hundred men with him, sailed in boats along the shore as
quickly as he could from the Isthmus to Epidaurus. But the Argives had
not patience till he could arrive, but, making a sudden insurrection,
fell upon Cleomenes's soldiers, and drove them into the citadel.
Cleomenes having news of this, and fearing lest, if the enemy should
possess themselves of Argos, they might cut off his retreat home,
leaves the Acro-Corinthus and marches away by night to help his men. He
got thither first, and beat off the enemy, but Aratus appearing not
long after, and the king approaching with his forces, he retreated to
Mantinea, upon which all the cities again came over to the Achaeans,
and Antigonus took possession of the Acro-Corinthus. Aratus, being
chosen general by the Argives, persuaded them to make a present to
Antigonus of the property of the tyrants and the traitors. As for
Aristomachus, after having put him to the rack in the town of
Cenchreae, they drowned him in the sea; for which, more than anything
else, Aratus was reproached, that he could suffer a man to be so
lawlessly put to death, who was no bad man, had been one of his long
acquaintance, and at his persuasion had abdicated his power, and
annexed the city to the Achaeans.
And already the blame of the other things that were done began to be
laid to his account; as that they so lightly gave up Corinth to
Antigonus, as if it had been an inconsiderable village; that they had
suffered him, after first sacking Orchomenus, then to put into it a
Macedonian garrison; that they made a decree that no letters nor
embassy should be sent to any other king without the consent of
Antigonus, that they were forced to furnish pay and provision for the
Macedonian soldiers, and celebrated sacrifices, processions, and games
in honor of Antigonus, Aratus's citizens setting the example and
receiving Antigonus, who was lodged and entertained at Aratus's house.
All these things they treated as his fault, not knowing that having
once put the reins into Antigonus's hands, and let himself be borne by
the impetus of regal power, he was no longer master of anything but one
single voice, the liberty of which it was not so very safe for him to
use. For it was very plain that Aratus was much troubled at several
things, as appeared by the business about the statues. For Antigonus
replaced the statues of the tyrants of Argos that had been thrown down,
and on the contrary threw down the statues of all those that had taken
the Acro-Corinthus, except that of Aratus, nor could Aratus, by all his
entreaties, dissuade him. Also, the usage of the Mantineans by the
Achaeans seemed not in accordance with the Grecian feelings and
manners. For being masters of their city by the help of Antigonus, they
put to death the chief and most noted men amongst them; and of the
rest, some they sold, others they sent, bound in fetters, into
Macedonia, and made slaves of their wives and children; and of the
money thus raised, a third part they divided among themselves, and the
other two thirds were distributed among the Macedonians. And this might
seem to have been justified by the law of retaliation; for although it
be a barbarous thing for men of the same nation and blood thus to deal
with one another in their fury, yet necessity makes it, as Simonides
says, sweet and something excusable, being the proper thing, in the
mind's painful and inflamed condition, to give alleviation and relief.
But for what was afterwards done to that city, Aratus cannot be
defended on any ground either of reason or necessity. For the Argives
having had the city bestowed on them by Antigonus, and resolving to
people it, he being then chosen as the new founder, and being general
at that time, decreed that it should no longer be called Mantinea, but
Antigonea, which name it still bears. So that he may be said to have
been the cause that the old memory of the "beautiful Mantinea" has been
wholly extinguished, and the city to this day has the name of the
destroyer and slayer of its citizens.
After this, Cleomenes, being overthrown in a great battle near
Sellasia, forsook Sparta and fled into Egypt, and Antigonus, having
shown all manner of kindness and fair-dealing to Aratus, retired into
Macedonia. There, falling sick, he sent Philip, the heir of the
kingdom, into Peloponnesus, being yet scarce a youth, commanding him to
follow above all the counsel of Aratus, to communicate with the cities
through him, and through him to make acquaintance with the Achaeans;
and Aratus, receiving him accordingly, so managed him as to send him
back to Macedon both well affected to himself and full of desire and
ambition to take an honorable part in the affairs of Greece.
When Antigonus was dead, the Aetolians, despising the sloth and
negligence of the Achaeans, who, having learned to be defended by other
men's valor and to shelter themselves under the Macedonian arms, lived
in ease and without any discipline, now attempted to interfere in
Peloponnesus. And plundering the land of Patrae and Dyme in their way,
they invaded Messene and ravaged it; at which Aratus being indignant,
and finding that Timoxenus, then general, was hesitating and letting
the time go by, being now on the point of laying down his office, in
which he himself was chosen to succeed him, he anticipated the proper
term by five days, that he might bring relief to the Messenians. And
mustering the Achaeans, who were both in their persons unexercised in
arms and in their minds relaxed and averse to war, he met with a defeat
at Caphyae. Having thus begun the war, as it seemed, with too much heat
and passion, he then ran into the other extreme, cooling again and
desponding so much, that he let pass and overlooked many fair
opportunities of advantage given by the Aetolians, and allowed them to
run riot, as it were, throughout all Peloponnesus, with all manner of
insolence and licentiousness. Wherefore, holding forth their hands once
more to the Macedonians, they invited and drew in Philip to intermeddle
in the affairs of Greece, chiefly hoping, because of his affection and
trust that he felt for Aratus, they should find him easy-tempered, and
ready to be managed as they pleased.
But the king, being now persuaded by Apelles, Megaleas, and other
courtiers, that endeavored to ruin the credit Aratus had with him, took
the side of the contrary faction, and joined them in canvassing to have
Eperatus chosen general by the Achaeans. But he being altogether
scorned by the Achaeans, and, for the want of Aratus to help, all
things going wrong, Philip saw he had quite mistaken his part, and,
turning about and reconciling himself to Aratus, he was wholly his; and
his affairs now going on favorably both for his power and reputation,
he depended upon him altogether as the author of all his gains in both
respects; Aratus hereby giving a proof to the world that he was as good
a nursing father of a kingdom as he had been of a democracy, for the
actions of the king had in them the touch and color of his judgment and
character. The moderation which the young man showed to the
Lacedaemonians, who had incurred his displeasure, and his affability to
the Cretans, by which in a few days he brought over the whole island to
his obedience, and his expedition against the Aetolians, so wonderfully
successful, brought Philip reputation for hearkening to good advice,
and to Aratus for giving it; for which things the king's followers
envying him more than ever and finding they could not prevail against
him by their secret practices, began openly to abuse and affront him at
the banquets and over their wine, with every kind of petulance and
impudence; so that once they threw stones at him as he was going back
from supper to his tent. At which Philip being much offended,
immediately fined them twenty talents; and finding afterwards that they
still went on disturbing matters and doing mischief in his affairs, he
put them to death.
But with his run of good success, prosperity began to puff him up, and
various extravagant desires began to spring and show themselves in his
mind; and his natural bad inclinations, breaking through the artificial
restraints he had put upon them, in a little time laid open and
discovered his true and proper character. And in the first place, he
privately injured the younger Aratus in his wife, which was not known
of a good while, because he was lodged and entertained at their house;
then he began to be more rough and untractable in the domestic politics
of Greece, and showed plainly that he was wishing to shake himself
loose of Aratus. This the Messenian affairs first gave occasion to
suspect. For they falling into sedition, and Aratus being just too late
with his succors, Philip, who got into the city one day before him, at
once blew up the flame of contention amongst them, asking privately, on
the one hand, the Messenian generals, if they had not laws whereby to
suppress the insolence of the common people, and on the other, the
leaders of the people, whether they had not hands to help themselves
against their oppressors. Upon which gathering courage, the officers
attempted to lay hands on the heads of the people, and they on the
other side, coming upon the officers with the multitude, killed them,
and very near two hundred persons with them.
Philip having committed this wickedness, and doing his best to set the
Messenians by the ears together more than before, Aratus arrived there,
and both showed plainly that he took it ill himself, and also he
suffered his son bitterly to reproach and revile him. It should seem
that the young man had an attachment for Philip, and so at this time
one of his expressions to him was, that he no longer appeared to him
the handsomest, but the most deformed of all men, after so foul an
action. To all which Philip gave him no answer, though he seemed so
angry as to make it expected he would, and though several times he
cried out aloud, while the young man was speaking. But as for the elder
Aratus, seeming to take all that he said in good part, and as if he
were by nature a politic character and had a good command of himself,
he gave him his hand and led him out of the theater, and carried him
with him to the Ithomatas, to sacrifice there to Jupiter, and take a
view of the place, for it is a post as fortifiable as the
Acro-Corinthus, and, with a garrison in it, quite as strong and as
impregnable to the attacks of all around it. Philip therefore went up
hither, and having offered sacrifice, receiving the entrails of the ox
with both his hands from the priest, he showed them to Aratus and
Demetrius the Pharian, presenting them sometimes to the one and
sometimes to the other, asking them what they judged, by the tokens in
the sacrifice, was to be done with the fort; was he to keep it for
himself, or restore it to the Messenians. Demetrius laughed and
answered, "If you have in you the soul of soothsayer, you will restore
it, but if of a prince, you will hold the ox by both the horns,"
meaning to refer to Peloponnesus, which would be wholly in his power
and at his disposal if he added the Ithomatas to the Acro-Corinthus.
Aratus said not a word for a good while; but Philip entreating him to
declare his opinion, he said "Many and great hills are there in Crete,
and many rocks in Boeotia and Phocis, and many remarkable strong-holds
both near the sea and in the midland in Acarnania, and yet all these
people obey your orders, though you have not possessed yourself of any
one of those places. Robbers nest themselves in rocks and precipices;
but the strongest fort a king can have is confidence and affection.
These have opened to you the Cretan sea; these make you master of
Peloponnesus, and by the help of these, young as you are, are you
become captain of the one, and lord of the other." While he was still
speaking, Philip returned the entrails to the priest, and drawing
Aratus to him by the hand, "Come, then," said he, "let us follow the
same course;" as if he felt himself forced by him, and obliged to give
up the town.
From this time Aratus began to withdraw from court, and retired by
degrees from Philip's company; when he was preparing to march into
Epirus, and desired him that he would accompany him thither, he excused
himself and stayed at home, apprehending that he should get nothing but
discredit by having anything to do with his actions. But when,
afterwards, having shamefully lost his fleet against the Romans and
miscarried in all his designs, he returned into Peloponnesus, where he
tried once more to beguile the Messenians by his artifices, and failing
in this, began openly to attack them and to ravage their country, then
Aratus fell out with him downright, and utterly renounced his
friendship; for he had begun then to be fully aware of the injuries
done to his son in his wife, which vexed him greatly, though he
concealed them from his son, as he could but know he had been abused,
without having any means to revenge himself. For, indeed, Philip seems
to have been an instance of the greatest and strangest alteration of
character; after being a mild king and modest and chaste youth, he
became a lascivious man and most cruel tyrant; though in reality this
was not a change of his nature, but a bold unmasking, when safe
opportunity came, of the evil inclinations which his fear had for a
long time made him dissemble.
For that the respect he at the beginning bore to Aratus had a great
alloy of fear and awe appears evidently from what he did to him at
last. For being desirous to put him to death, not thinking himself,
whilst he was alive, to be properly free as a man, much less at liberty
to do his pleasure as a king or tyrant, he durst not attempt to do it
by open force, but commanded Taurion, one of his captains and
familiars, to make him away secretly by poison, if possible, in his
absence. Taurion, therefore, made himself intimate with Aratus, and
gave him a dose, not of your strong and violent poisons, but such as
cause gentle, feverish heats at first, and a dull cough, and so by
degrees bring on certain death. Aratus perceived what was done to him,
but, knowing that it was in vain to make any words of it, bore it
patiently and with silence, as if it had been some common and usual
distemper. Only once, a friend of his being with him in his chamber, he
spat some blood, which his friend observing and wondering at, "These, O
Cephalon," said he, "are the wages of a king's love."
Thus died he in Aegium, in his seventeenth generalship. The Achaeans
were very desirous that he should be buried there with a funeral and
monument suitable to his life, but the Sicyonians treated it as a
calamity to them if he were interred anywhere but in their city, and
prevailed with the Achaeans to grant them the disposal of the body.
But there being an ancient law that no person should be buried within
the walls of their city, and besides the law also a strong religious
feeling about it, they sent to Delphi to ask counsel of the Pythoness,
who returned this answer: --
Sicyon, whom oft he rescued, "Where," you say,
"Shall we the relics of Aratus lay?"
The soil that would not lightly o'er him rest,
Or to be under him would feel oppressed,
Were in the sight of earth and seas and skies unblest.
This oracle being brought, all the Achaeans were well pleased at it,
but especially the Sicyonians, who, changing their mourning into public
joy, immediately fetched the body from Aegium, and in a kind of solemn
procession brought it into the city, being crowned with garlands, and
arrayed in white garments, with singing and dancing, and, choosing a
conspicuous place, they buried him there, as the founder and savior of
their city. The place is to this day called Aratium, and there they
yearly make two solemn sacrifices to him, the one on the day he
delivered the city from tyranny, being the fifth of the month Daesius,
which the Athenians call Anthesterion, and this sacrifice they call
Soteria; the other in the month of his birth, which is still
remembered. Now the first of these was performed by the priest of
Jupiter Soter, the second by the priest of Aratus, wearing a band
around his head, not pure white, but mingled with purple. Hymns were
sung to the harp by the singers of the feasts of Bacchus; the
procession was led up by the president of the public exercises, with
the boys and young men; these were followed by the councilors wearing
garlands, and other citizens such as pleased. Of these observances,
some small traces, it is still made a point of religion not to omit, on
the appointed days; but the greatest part of the ceremonies have
through time and other intervening accidents been disused.
And such, as history tells us, was the life and manners of the elder
Aratus. And for the younger, his son, Philip, abominably wicked by
nature and a savage abuser of his power, gave him such poisonous
medicines, as though they did not kill him indeed, yet made him lose
his senses, and run into wild and absurd attempts and desire to do
actions and satisfy appetites that were ridiculous and shameful. So
that his death, which happened to him while he was yet young and in the
flower of his age, cannot be so much esteemed a misfortune as a
deliverance and end of his misery. However, Philip paid dearly, all
through the rest of his life, for these impious violations of
friendship and hospitality. For, being overcome by the Romans, he was
forced to put himself wholly into their hands, and, being deprived of
his other dominions and surrendering all his ships except five, he had
also to pay a fine of a thousand talents, and to give his son for
hostage, and only out of mere pity he was suffered to keep Macedonia
and its dependences; where continually putting to death the noblest of
his subjects and the nearest relations he had, he filled the whole
kingdom with horror and hatred of him. And whereas amidst so many
misfortunes he had but one good chance, which was the having a son of
great virtue and merit, him, through jealousy and envy at the honor the
Romans had for him, he caused to be murdered, and left his kingdom to
Perseus, who, as some say, was not his own child, but supposititious,
born of a seamstress called Gnathaenion. This was he whom Paulus
Aemilius led in triumph, and in whom ended the succession of
Antigonus's line and kingdom. But the posterity of Aratus continued
still in our days at Sicyon and Pellene.
ARTAXERXES
The first Artaxerxes, among all the kings of Persia the most remarkable
for a gentle and noble spirit, was surnamed the Long-handed, his right
hand being longer than his left, and was the son of Xerxes. The second,
whose story I am now writing, who had the surname of the Mindful, was
the grandson of the former, by his daughter Parysatis, who brought
Darius four sons, the eldest Artaxerxes, the next Cyrus, and two
younger than these, Ostanes and Oxathres. Cyrus took his name of the
ancient Cyrus, as he, they say, had his from the sun, which, in the
Persian language, is called Cyrus. Artaxerxes was at first called
Arsicas; Dinon says Oarses; but it is utterly improbable that Ctesias
(however otherwise he may have filled his books with a perfect farrago
of incredible and senseless fables) should be ignorant of the name of
the king with whom he lived as his physician, attending upon himself,
his wife, his mother, and his children.
Cyrus, from his earliest youth, showed something of a headstrong and
vehement character; Artaxerxes, on the other side, was gentler in
everything, and of a nature more yielding and soft in its action. He
married a beautiful and virtuous wife, at the desire of his parents,
but kept her as expressly against their wishes. For king Darius, having
put her brother to death, was purposing likewise to destroy her. But
Arsicas, throwing himself at his mother's feet, by many tears, at last,
with much ado, persuaded her that they should neither put her to death
nor divorce her from him. However, Cyrus was his mother's favorite, and
the son whom she most desired to settle in the throne. And therefore,
his father Darius now lying ill, he, being sent for from the sea to the
court, set out thence with full hopes that by her means he was to be
declared the successor to the kingdom. For Parysatis had the specious
plea in his behalf, which Xerxes on the advice of Demaratus had of old
made use of, that she had borne him Arsicas when he was a subject, but
Cyrus when a king. Notwithstanding, she prevailed not with Darius, but
the eldest son Arsicas was proclaimed king, his name being changed into
Artaxerxes; and Cyrus remained satrap of Lydia, and commander in the
maritime provinces.
It was not long after the decease of Darius that the king, his
successor, went to Pasargadae, to have the ceremony of his inauguration
consummated by the Persian priests. There is a temple dedicated to a
warlike goddess, whom one might liken to Minerva; into which when the
royal person to be initiated has passed, he must strip himself of his
own robe, and put on that which Cyrus the first wore before he was
king; then, having devoured a frail of figs, he must eat turpentine,
and drink a cup of sour milk. To which if they superadd any other
rites, it is unknown to any but those that are present at them. Now
Artaxerxes being about to address himself to this solemnity,
Tisaphernes came to him, bringing a certain priest, who, having trained
up Cyrus in his youth in the established discipline of Persia, and
having taught him the Magian philosophy, was likely to be as much
disappointed as any man that his pupil did not succeed to the throne.
And for that reason his veracity was the less questioned when he
charged Cyrus as though he had been about to lie in wait for the king
in the temple, and to assault and assassinate him as he was putting off
his garment. Some affirm that he was apprehended upon this impeachment,
others that he had entered the temple and was pointed out there, as he
lay lurking, by the priest. But as he was on the point of being put to
death, his mother clasped him in her arms, and, entwining him with the
tresses of her hair, joined his neck close to her own, and by her
bitter lamentation and intercession to Artaxerxes for him, succeeded in
saving his life; and sent him away again to the sea and to his former
province. This, however, could no longer content him; nor did he so
well remember his delivery as his arrest, his resentment for which made
him more eagerly desirous of the kingdom than before.
Some say that he revolted from his brother, because he had not a
revenue allowed him sufficient for his daily meals; but this is on the
face of it absurd. For had he had nothing else, yet he had a mother
ready to supply him with whatever he could desire out of her own means.
But the great number of soldiers who were hired from all quarters and
maintained, as Xenophon informs us, for his service, by his friends and
connections, is in itself a sufficient proof of his riches. He did not
assemble them together in a body, desiring as yet to conceal his
enterprise; but he had agents everywhere, enlisting foreign soldiers
upon various pretenses; and, in the meantime, Parysatis, who was with
the king, did her best to put aside all suspicions, and Cyrus himself
always wrote in a humble and dutiful manner to him, sometimes
soliciting favor, sometimes making countercharges against Tisaphernes,
as if his jealousy and contest had been wholly with him. Moreover,
there was a certain natural dilatoriness in the king, which was taken
by many for clemency. And, indeed, in the beginning of his reign, he
did seem really to emulate the gentleness of the first Artaxerxes,
being very accessible in his person, and liberal to a fault in the
distribution of honors and favors. Even in his punishments, no
contumely or vindictive pleasure could be seen; and those who offered
him presents were as much pleased with his manner of accepting, as were
those who received gifts from him with his graciousness and amiability
in giving them. Nor truly was there anything, however inconsiderable,
given him, which he did not deign kindly to accept of; insomuch that
when one Omises had presented him with a very large pomegranate, "By
Mithras," said he, "this man, were he entrusted with it, would turn a
small city into a great one."
Once when some were offering him one thing, some another, as he was on
a progress, a certain poor laborer, having got nothing at hand to bring
him, ran to the river side, and, taking up water in his hands, offered
it to him; with which Artaxerxes was so well pleased that he sent him a
goblet of gold and a thousand darics. To Euclidas, the Lacedaemonian,
who had made a number of bold and arrogant speeches to him, he sent
word by one of his officers, "You have leave to say what you please to
me, and I, you should remember, may both say and do what I please to
you." Teribazus once, when they were hunting, came up and pointed out
to the king that his royal robe was torn; the king asked him what he
wished him to do; and when Teribazus replied "May it please you to put
on another and give me that," the king did so, saying withal, "I give
it you, Teribazus, but I charge you not to wear it." He, little
regarding the injunction, being not a bad, but a light-headed,
thoughtless man, immediately the king took it off, put it on, and
bedecked himself further with royal golden necklaces and women's
ornaments, to the great scandal of everybody, the thing being quite
unlawful. But the king laughed and told him, "You have my leave to wear
the trinkets as a woman, and the robe of state as a fool." And whereas
none usually sat down to eat with the king besides his mother and his
wedded wife, the former being placed above, the other below him,
Artaxerxes invited also to his table his two younger brothers, Ostanes
and Oxathres. But what was the most popular thing of all among the
Persians was the sight of his wife Statira's chariot, which always
appeared with its curtains down, allowing her countrywomen to salute
and approach her, which made the queen a great favorite with the people.
Yet busy, factious men, that delighted in change, professed it to be
their opinion that the times needed Cyrus, a man of a great spirit, an
excellent warrior, and a lover of his friends, and that the largeness
of their empire absolutely required a bold and enterprising prince.
Cyrus, then; not only relying upon those of his own province near the
sea, but upon many of those in the upper countries near the king,
commenced the war against him. He wrote to the Lacedaemonians, bidding
them come to his assistance and supply him with men, assuring them that
to those who came to him on foot he would give horses, and to the
horsemen chariots; that upon those who had farms he would bestow
villages, and those who were lords of villages he would make so of
cities; and that those who would be his soldiers should receive their
pay, not by count, but by weight. And among many other high praises of
himself, he said he had the stronger soul; was more a philosopher and a
better Magian; and could drink and bear more wine than his brother,
who, as he averred, was such a coward and so little like a man, that he
could neither sit his horse in hunting nor his throne in time of
danger. The Lacedaemonians, his letter being read, sent a staff to
Clearchus, commanding him to obey Cyrus in all things. So Cyrus marched
towards the king, having under his conduct a numerous host of
barbarians, and but little less than thirteen thousand stipendiary
Grecians; alleging first one cause, then another, for his expedition.
Yet the true reason lay not long concealed, but Tisaphernes went to the
king in person to declare it. Thereupon, the court was all in an uproar
and tumult, the queen-mother bearing almost the whole blame of the
enterprise, and her retainers being suspected and accused. Above all,
Statira angered her by bewailing the war and passionately demanding
where were now the pledges and the intercessions which saved the life
of him that conspired against his brother; "to the end," she said,
"that he might plunge us all into war and trouble." For which words
Parysatis hating Statira, and being naturally implacable and savage in
her anger and revenge, consulted how she might destroy her. But since
Dinon tells us that her purpose took effect in the time of the war, and
Ctesias says it was after it, I shall keep the story for the place to
which the latter assigns it, as it is very unlikely that he, who was
actually present, should not know the time when it happened, and there
was no motive to induce him designedly to misplace its date in his
narrative of it, though it is not infrequent with him in his history to
make excursions from truth into mere fiction and romance.
As Cyrus was upon the march, rumors and reports were brought him, as
though the king still deliberated, and were not minded to fight and
presently to join battle with him; but to wait in the heart of his
kingdom until his forces should have come in thither from all parts of
his dominions. He had cut a trench through the plain ten fathoms in
breadth, and as many in depth, the length of it being no less than four
hundred furlongs. Yet he allowed Cyrus to pass across it, and to
advance almost to the city of Babylon. Then Teribazus, as the report
goes, was the first that had the boldness to tell the king that he
ought not to avoid the conflict, nor to abandon Media, Babylon, and
even Susa, and hide himself in Persis, when all the while he had an
army many times over more numerous than his enemies, and an infinite
company of governors and captains that were better soldiers and
politicians than Cyrus. So at last he resolved to fight, as soon as it
was possible for him. Making, therefore, his first appearance, all on a
sudden, at the head of nine hundred thousand well-marshaled men, he so
startled and surprised the enemy, who with the confidence of contempt
were marching on their way in no order, and with their arms not ready
for use, that Cyrus, in the midst of much noise and tumult, was scarce
able to form them for battle. Moreover, the very manner in which he led
on his men, silently and slowly, made the Grecians stand amazed at his
good discipline; who had expected irregular shouting and leaping, much
confusion and separation between one body of men and another, in so
vast a multitude of troops. He also placed the choicest of his armed
chariots in the front of his own phalanx over against the Grecian
troops, that a violent charge with these might cut open their ranks
before they closed with them.
But as this battle is described by many historians, and Xenophon in
particular as good as shows it us by eyesight, not as a past event, but
as a present action, and by his vivid account makes his hearers feel
all the passions and join in all the dangers of it, it would be folly
in me to give any larger account of it than barely to mention any
things omitted by him which yet deserve to be recorded. The place,
then, in which the two armies were drawn out is called Cunaxa, being
about five hundred furlongs distant from Babylon. And here Clearchus
beseeching Cyrus before the fight to retire behind the combatants, and
not expose himself to hazard, they say he replied, "What is this,
Clearchus? Would you have me, who aspire to empire, show myself
unworthy of it?" But if Cyrus committed a great fault in entering
headlong into the midst of danger, and not paying any regard to his own
safety, Clearchus was as much to blame, if not more, in refusing to
lead the Greeks against the main body of the enemy, where the king
stood, and in keeping his right wing close to the river, for fear of
being surrounded. For if he wanted, above all other things, to be safe,
and considered it his first object to sleep in whole skin, it had been
his best way not to have stirred from home. But, after marching in arms
ten thousand furlongs from the sea-coast, simply on his own choosing,
for the purpose of placing Cyrus on the throne, to look about and
select a position which would enable him, not to preserve him under
whose pay and conduct he was, but himself to engage with more ease and
security seemed much like one that through fear of present dangers had
abandoned the purpose of his actions, and been false to the design of
his expedition. For it is evident from the very event of the battle
that none of those who were in array around the king's person could
have stood the shock of the Grecian charge; and had they been beaten
out of the field, and Artaxerxes either fled or fallen, Cyrus would
have gained by the victory, not only safety, but a crown. And,
therefore, Clearchus, by his caution, must be considered more to blame
for the result in the destruction of the life and fortune of Cyrus,
than he by his heat and rashness. For had the king made it his business
to discover a place, where having posted the Grecians, he might
encounter them with the least hazard, he would never have found out any
other but that which was most remote from himself and those near him;
of his defeat in which he was insensible, and, though Clearchus had the
victory, yet Cyrus could not know of it, and could take no advantage of
it before his fall. Cyrus knew well enough what was expedient to be
done, and commanded Clearchus with his men to take their place in the
center. Clearchus replied that he would take care to have all arranged
as was best, and then spoiled all.
For the Grecians, where they were, defeated the barbarians till they
were weary, and chased them successfully a very great way. But Cyrus
being mounted upon a noble but a headstrong and hard-mouthed horse,
bearing the name, as Ctesias tells us, of Pasacas, Artagerses, the
leader of the Cadusians, galloped up to him, crying aloud, "O most
unjust and senseless of men, who are the disgrace of the honored name
of Cyrus, are you come here leading the wicked Greeks on a wicked
journey, to plunder the good things of the Persians, and this with the
intent of slaying your lord and brother, the master of ten thousand
times ten thousand servants that are better men than you? as you shall
see this instant; for you shall lose your head here, before you look
upon the face of the king." Which when he had said, he cast his javelin
at him. But the coat of mail stoutly repelled it, and Cyrus was not
wounded; yet the stroke falling heavy upon him, he reeled under it.
Then Artagerses turning his horse, Cyrus threw his weapon, and sent the
head of it through his neck near the shoulder bone. So that it is
almost universally agreed to by all the author that Artagerses was
slain by him. But as to the death of Cyrus, since Xenophon, as being
himself no eye-witness of it, has stated it simply and in few words, it
may not be amiss perhaps to run over on the one hand what Dinon, and on
the other, what Ctesias has said of it.
Dinon then affirms, that, after the death of Artagerses, Cyrus,
furiously attacking the guard of Artaxerxes, wounded the king's horse,
and so dismounted him, and when Teribazus had quickly lifted him up
upon another, and said to him, "O king, remember this day, which is not
one to be forgotten," Cyrus, again spurring up his horse, struck down
Artaxerxes. But at the third assault the king being enraged, and saying
to those near him that death was more eligible, made up to Cyrus, who
furiously and blindly rushed in the face of the weapons opposed to him.
So the king struck him with a javelin, as likewise did those that were
about him. And thus Cyrus falls, as some say, by the hand of the king;
as others, by the dart of a Carian, to whom Artaxerxes, for a reward of
his achievement, gave the privilege of carrying ever after a golden
cock upon his spear before the first ranks of the army in all
expeditions. For the Persians call the men of Caria cocks, because of
the crests with which they adorn their helmets.
But the account of Ctesias, to put it shortly, omitting many details,
is as follows: Cyrus, after the death of Artagerses, rode up against
the king, as he did against him, neither exchanging a word with the
other. But Ariaeus, Cyrus's friend, was beforehand with him, and darted
first at the king, yet wounded him not. Then the king cast his lance at
his brother, but missed him, though he both hit and slew Satiphernes, a
noble man and a faithful friend to Cyrus. Then Cyrus directed his lance
against the king, and pierced his breast with it quite through his
armor, two inches deep, so that he fell from his horse with the stroke.
At which those that attended him being put to flight and disorder, he,
rising with a few, among whom was Ctesias, and making his way to a
little hill not far off, rested himself. But Cyrus, who was in the
thick of the enemy, was carried off a great way by the wildness of his
horse, the darkness which was now coming on making it hard for them to
know him, and for his followers to find him. However, being made elate
with victory, and full of confidence and force, he passed through them,
crying out, and that more than once, in the Persian language, "Clear
the way, villains, clear the way;" which they indeed did, throwing
themselves down at his feet. But his tiara dropped off his head, and a
young Persian, by name Mithridates, running by, struck a dart into one
of his temples near his eye, not knowing who he was, out of which wound
much blood gushed, so that Cyrus, swooning and senseless, fell off his
horse. The horse escaped, and ran about the field; but the companion of
Mithridates took the trappings, which fell off, soaked with blood. And
as Cyrus slowly began to come to himself, some eunuchs who were there
tried to put him on another horse, and so convey him safe away. And
when he was not able to ride, and desired to walk on his feet, they led
and supported him, being indeed dizzy in the head and reeling, but
convinced of his being victorious, hearing, as he went, the fugitives
saluting Cyrus as king, and praying for grace and mercy. In the
meantime, some wretched, poverty-stricken Caunians, who in some pitiful
employment as camp-followers had accompanied the king's army, by chance
joined these attendants of Cyrus, supposing them to be of their own
party. But when, after a while, they made out that their coats over
their breastplates were red, whereas all the king's people wore white
ones, they knew that they were enemies. One of them, therefore, not
dreaming that it was Cyrus, ventured to strike him behind with a dart.
The vein under the knee was cut open, and Cyrus fell, and at the same
time struck his wounded temple against a stone, and so died. Thus runs
Ctesias's account, tardily, with the slowness of a blunt weapon,
effecting the victim's death.
When he was now dead, Artasyras, the king's eye, passed by on
horseback, and, having observed the eunuchs lamenting, he asked the
most trusty of them, "Who is this, Pariscas, whom you sit here
deploring?" He replied, "Do not you see, O Artasyras, that it is my
master, Cyrus?" Then Artasyras wondering, bade the eunuch be of good
cheer, and keep the dead body safe. And going in all haste to
Artaxerxes, who had now given up all hope of his affairs, and was in
great suffering also with his thirst and his wound, he with much joy
assured him that he had seen Cyrus dead. Upon this, at first, he set
out to go in person to the place, and commanded Artasyras to conduct
him where he lay. But when there was a great noise made about the
Greeks, who were said to be in full pursuit, conquering and carrying
all before them, he thought it best to send a number of persons to see;
and accordingly thirty men went with torches in their hands. Meantime,
as he seemed to be almost at the point of dying from thirst, his eunuch
Satibarzanes ran about seeking drink for him; for the place had no
water in it, and he was at a good distance from his camp. After a long
search he at last luckily met with one of those poor Caunian
camp-followers, who had in a wretched skin about four pints of foul and
stinking water, which he took and gave to the king; and when he had
drunk all off, he asked him if he did not dislike the water; but he
declared by all the gods, that he never so much relished either wine,
or water out of the lightest or purest stream. "And therefore," said
he, "if I fail myself to discover and reward him who gave it to you, I
beg of heaven to make him rich and prosperous."
Just after this, came back the thirty messengers, with joy and triumph
in their looks, bringing him the tidings of his unexpected fortune. And
now he was also encouraged by the number of soldiers that again began
to flock in and gather about him; so that he presently descended into
the plain with many lights and flambeaus round about him. And when he
had come near the dead body, and, according to a certain law of the
Persians, the right hand and head had been lopped off from the trunk,
he gave orders that the latter should be brought to him, and, grasping
the hair of it, which was long and bushy, he showed it to those who
were still uncertain and disposed to fly. They were amazed at it, and
did him homage; so that there were presently seventy thousand of them
got about him, and entered the camp again with him. He had led out to
the fight, as Ctesias affirms, four hundred thousand men. But Dinon and
Xenophon aver that there were many more than forty myriads actually
engaged. As to the number of the slain, as the catalogue of them was
given up to Artaxerxes, Ctesias says, they were nine thousand, but that
they appeared to him no fewer than twenty thousand. Thus far there is
something to be said on both sides. But it is a flagrant untruth on the
part of Ctesias to say that he was sent along with Phalinus the
Zacynthian and some others to the Grecians. For Xenophon knew well
enough that Ctesias was resident at court; for he makes mention of him,
and had evidently met with his writings. And, therefore, had he come,
and been deputed the interpreter of such momentous words, Xenophon
surely would not have struck his name out of the embassy to mention
only Phalinus. But Ctesias, as is evident, being excessively
vain-glorious, and no less a favorer of the Lacedaemonians and
Clearchus, never fails to assume to himself some province in his
narrative, taking opportunity, in these situations, to introduce
abundant high praise of Clearchus and Sparta.
When the battle was over, Artaxerxes sent goodly and magnificent gifts
to the son of Artagerses, whom Cyrus slew. He conferred likewise high
honors upon Ctesias and others, and, having found out the Caunian who
gave him the bottle of water, he made him, of a poor, obscure man, a
rich and an honorable person. As for the punishments he indicted upon
delinquents, there was a kind of harmony betwixt them and the crimes.
He gave order that one Arbaces, a Mede, that had fled in the fight to
Cyrus, and again at his fall had come back, should, as a mark that he
was considered a dastardly and effeminate, not a dangerous or
treasonable man, have a common harlot set upon his back, and carry her
about for a whole day in the marketplace. Another, besides that he had
deserted to them, having falsely vaunted that he had killed two of the
rebels, he decreed that three needles should be struck through his
tongue. And both supposing that with his own hand he had cut off Cyrus,
and being willing that all men should think and say so, he sent rich
presents to Mithridates, who first wounded him, and charged those by
whom he conveyed the gifts to him to tell him, that "the king has
honored you with these his favors, because you found and brought him
the horse-trappings of Cyrus." The Carian, also, from whose wound in
the ham Cyrus died, suing for his reward, he commanded those that
brought it him to say that "the king presents you with this as a second
remuneration for the good news told him; for first Artasyras, and, next
to him, you assured him of the decease of Cyrus." Mithridates retired
without complaint, though not without resentment. But the unfortunate
Carian was fool enough to give way to a natural infirmity. For being
ravished with the sight of the princely gifts that were before him, and
being tempted thereupon to challenge and aspire to things above him, he
deigned not to accept the king's present as a reward for good news, but
indignantly crying out and appealing to witnesses, he protested that
he, and none but he, had killed Cyrus, and that he was unjustly
deprived of the glory. These words, when they came to his ear, much
offended the king, so that forthwith he sentenced him to be beheaded.
But the queen mother, being in the king's presence, said, "Let not the
king so lightly discharge this pernicious Carian; let him receive from
me the fitting punishment of what he dares to say." So when the king
had consigned him over to Parysatis, she charged the executioners to
take up the man, and stretch him upon the rack for ten days, then,
tearing out his eyes, to drop molten brass into his ears till he
expired.
Mithridates, also, within a short time after, miserably perished by the
like folly; for being invited to a feast where were the eunuchs both of
the king and of the queen mother, he came arrayed in the dress and the
golden ornaments which he had received from the king. After they began
to drink, the eunuch that was the greatest in power with Parysatis thus
speaks to him: A magnificent dress, indeed, O Mithridates, is this
which the king has given you; the chains and bracelets are glorious,
and your scimitar of invaluable worth; how happy has he made you, the
object of every eye!" To whom he, being a little overcome with the wine
replied, "What are these things, Sparamizes? Sure I am, I showed myself
to the king in that day of trial to be one deserving greater and
costlier gifts than these." At which Sparamizes smiling, said, "I do
not grudge them to you, Mithridates; but since the Grecians tell us
that wine and truth go together, let me hear now, my friend, what
glorious or mighty matter was it to find some trappings that had
slipped off a horse, and to bring them to the king?" And this he spoke,
not as ignorant of the truth, but desiring to unbosom him to the
company, irritating the vanity of the man, whom drink had now made
eager to talk and incapable of controlling himself. So he forbore
nothing, but said out, "Talk you what you please of horse-trappings,
and such trifles; I tell you plainly, that this hand was the death of
Cyrus. For I threw not my dart as Artagerses did, in vain and to no
purpose, but only just missing his eye, and hitting him right on the
temple, and piercing him through, I brought him to the ground; and of
that wound he died." The rest of the company, who saw the end and the
hapless fate of Mithridates as if it were already completed, bowed
their heads to the ground; and he who entertained them said,
"Mithridates, my friend, let us eat and drink now, revering the fortune
of our prince, and let us waive discourse which is too weighty for us."
Presently after, Sparamizes told Parysatis what he said, and she told
the king, who was greatly enraged at it, as having the lie given him,
and being in danger to forfeit the most glorious and most pleasant
circumstance of his victory. For it was his desire that everyone,
whether Greek or barbarian, should believe that in the mutual assaults
and conflicts between him and his brother, he, giving and receiving a
blow, was himself indeed wounded, but that the other lost his life.
And, therefore, he decreed that Mithridates should be put to death in
boats; which execution is after the following manner: Taking two boats
framed exactly to fit and answer each other, they lay down in one of
them the malefactor that suffers, upon his back; then, covering it with
the other, and so setting them together that the head, hands, and feet
of him are left outside, and the rest of his body lies shut up within,
they offer him food, and if he refuse to eat it, they force him to do
it by pricking his eyes; then, after he has eaten, they drench him with
a mixture of milk and honey, pouring it not only into his mouth, but
all over his face. They then keep his face continually turned towards
the sun; and it becomes completely covered up and hidden by the
multitude of flies that settle on it. And as within the boats he does
what those that eat and drink must needs do, creeping things and vermin
spring out of the corruption and rottenness of the excrement, and these
entering into the bowels of him, his body is consumed. When the man is
manifestly dead, the uppermost boat being taken off, they find his
flesh devoured, and swarms of such noisome creatures preying upon and,
as it were, growing to his inwards. In this way Mithridates, after
suffering for seventeen days, at last expired.
Masabates, the king's eunuch, who had cut off the hand and head of
Cyrus, remained still as a mark for Parysatis's vengeance. Whereas,
therefore, he was so circumspect, that he gave her no advantage against
him, she framed this kind of snare for him. She was a very ingenious
woman in other ways, and was an excellent player at dice, and, before
the war, had often played with the king. After the war, too, when she
had been reconciled to him, she joined readily in all amusements with
him, played at dice with him, was his confidant in his love matters,
and in every way did her best to leave him as little as possible in the
company of Statira, both because she hated her more than any other
person, and because she wished to have no one so powerful as herself.
And so once when Artaxerxes was at leisure, and inclined to divert
himself, she challenged him to play at dice with her for a thousand
Darics, and purposely let him win them, and paid him down in gold. Yet,
pretending to be concerned for her loss, and that she would gladly have
her revenge for it, she pressed him to begin a new game for a eunuch;
to which he consented. But first they agreed that each of them might
except five of their most trusty eunuchs, and that out of the rest of
them the loser should yield up any the winner should make choice of.
Upon these conditions they played. Thus being bent upon her design, and
thoroughly in earnest with her game, and the dice also running luckily
for her, when she had got the game, she demanded Masabates, who was not
in the number of the five excepted. And before the king could suspect
the matter, having delivered him up to the tormentors, she enjoined
them to flay him alive, to set his body upon three stakes, and to
stretch his skin upon stakes separately from it.
These things being done, and the king taking them ill, and being
incensed against her, she with raillery and laughter told him, "You are
a comfortable and happy man indeed, if you are so much disturbed for
the sake of an old rascally eunuch, when I, though I have thrown away a
thousand Darics, hold my peace and acquiesce in my fortune." So the
king, vexed with himself for having been thus deluded, hushed up all.
But Statira both in other matters openly opposed her, and was angry
with her for thus, against all law and humanity, sacrificing to the
memory of Cyrus the king's faithful friends and eunuchs.
Now after that Tisaphernes had circumvented and by a false oath had
betrayed Clearchus and the other commanders, and, taking them, had sent
them bound in chains to the king, Ctesias says that he was asked by
Clearchus to supply him with a comb; and that when he had it, and had
combed his head with it, he was much pleased with this good office, and
gave him a ring, which might be a token of the obligation to his
relatives and friends in Sparta; and that the engraving upon this
signet was a set of Caryatides dancing. He tells us that the soldiers,
his fellow captives, used to purloin a part of the allowance of food
sent to Clearchus, giving him but little of it; which thing Ctesias
says he rectified, causing a better allowance to be conveyed to him,
and that a separate share should be distributed to the soldiers by
themselves; adding that he ministered to and supplied him thus by the
interest and at the instance of Parysatis. And there being a portion of
ham sent daily with his other food to Clearchus, she, he says, advised
and instructed him, that he ought to bury a small knife in the meat,
and thus send it to his friend, and not leave his fate to be determined
by the king's cruelty; which he, however, he says, was afraid to do.
However, Artaxerxes consented to the entreaties of his mother, and
promised her with an oath that he would spare Clearchus; but
afterwards, at the instigation of Statira, he put every one of them to
death except Menon. And thenceforward, he says, Parysatis watched her
advantage against Statira, and made up poison for her; not a very
probable story, or a very likely motive to account for her conduct, if
indeed he means that out of respect to Clearchus she dared to attempt
the life of the lawful queen, that was mother of those who were heirs
of the empire. But it is evident enough, that this part of his history
is a sort of funeral exhibition in honor of Clearchus. For he would
have us believe, that, when the generals were executed, the rest of
them were torn in pieces by dogs and birds; but as for the remains of
Clearchus, that a violent gust of wind, bearing before it a vast heap
of earth, raised a mound to cover his body, upon which, after a short
time, some dates having fallen there, a beautiful grove of trees grew
up and overshadowed the place, so that the king himself declared his
sorrow, concluding that in Clearchus he put to death a man beloved of
the gods.
Parysatis, therefore, having from the first entertained a secret hatred
and jealousy against Statira, seeing that the power she herself had
with Artaxerxes was founded upon feelings of honor and respect for her,
but that Statira's influence was firmly and strongly based upon love
and confidence, was resolved to contrive her ruin, playing at hazard,
as she thought, for the greatest stake in the world. Among her
attendant women there was one that was trusty and in the highest esteem
with her, whose name was Gigis; who, as Dinon avers, assisted in making
up the poison. Ctesias allows her only to have been conscious of it,
and that against her will; charging Belitaras with actually giving the
drug, whereas Dinon says it was Melantas. The two women had begun again
to visit each other and to eat together; but though they had thus far
relaxed their former habits of jealousy and variance, still, out of
fear and as a matter of caution, they always ate of the same dishes and
of the same parts of them. Now there is a small Persian bird, in the
inside of which no excrement is found, only a mass of fat, so that they
suppose the little creature lives upon air and dew. It is called
rhyntaces. Ctesias affirms, that Parysatis, cutting a bird of this kind
into two pieces with a knife, one side of which had been smeared with
the drug, the other side being clear of it, ate the untouched and
wholesome part herself, and gave Statira that which was thus infected;
but Dinon will not have it to be Parysatis, but Melantas, that cut up
the bird and presented the envenomed part of it to Statira; who, dying
with dreadful agonies and convulsions, was herself sensible of what had
happened to her, and aroused in the king's mind suspicion of his
mother, whose savage and implacable temper he knew. And therefore
proceeding instantly to an inquest, he seized upon his mother's
domestic servants that attended at her table, and put them upon the
rack. Parysatis kept Gigis at home with her a long time, and, though
the king commanded her, she would not produce her. But she, at last,
herself desiring that she might be dismissed to her own home by night,
Artaxerxes had intimation of it, and, lying in wait for her, hurried
her away, and adjudged her to death. Now poisoners in Persia suffer
thus by law. There is a broad stone, on which they place the head of
the culprit, and then with another stone beat and press it, until the
face and the head itself are all pounded to pieces; which was the
punishment Gigis lost her life by. But to his mother, Artaxerxes
neither said nor did any other hurt, save that he banished and confined
her, not much against her will, to Babylon, protesting that while she
lived he would not come near that city. Such was the condition of the
king's affairs in his own house.
But when all his attempts to capture the Greeks that had come up with
Cyrus, though he desired to do so no less than he had desired to
overcome Cyrus and maintain his throne, proved unsuccessful, and they,
though they had lost both Cyrus and their own generals, nevertheless
escaped, as it were, out of his very palace, making it plain to all men
that the Persian king and his empire were mighty indeed in gold and
luxury and women, but otherwise were a mere show and vain display, upon
this, all Greece took courage, and despised the barbarians; and
especially the Lacedaemonians thought it strange if they should not now
deliver their countrymen that dwelt in Asia from their subjection to
the Persians, nor put an end to the contumelious usage of them. And
first having an army under the conduct of Thimbron, then under
Dercyllidas, but doing nothing memorable, they at last committed the
war to the management of their king Agesilaus, who, when he had arrived
with his men in Asia, as soon as he had landed them, fell actively to
work, and got himself great renown. He defeated Tisaphernes in a
pitched battle, and set many cities in revolt. Upon this, Artaxerxes,
perceiving what was his wisest way of waging the war, sent Timocrates
the Rhodian into Greece, with large sums of gold, commanding him by a
free distribution of it to corrupt the leading men in the cities, and
to excite a Greek war against Sparta. So Timocrates following his
instructions, the most considerable cities conspiring together, and
Peloponnesus being in disorder, the ephors remanded Agesilaus from
Asia. At which time, they say, as he was upon his return, he told his
friends that Artaxerxes had driven him out of Asia with thirty thousand
archers; the Persian coin having an archer stamped upon it.
Artaxerxes scoured the seas, too, of the Lacedaemonians, Conon the
Athenian and Pharnabazus being his admirals. For Conon, after the
battle of Aegospotami, resided in Cyprus; not that he consulted his own
mere security, but looking for a vicissitude of affairs with no less
hope than men wait for a change of wind at sea. And perceiving that his
skill wanted power, and that the king's power wanted a wise man to
guide it, he sent him an account by letter of his projects, and charged
the bearer to hand it to the king, if possible, by the mediation of
Zeno the Cretan or Polycritus the Mendaean (the former being a
dancing-master, the latter a physician), or, in the absence of them
both, by Ctesias; who is said to have taken Conon's letter, and foisted
into the contents of it a request; that the king would also be pleased
to send over Ctesias to him, who was likely to be of use on the
sea-coast. Ctesias, however, declares that the king, of his own accord,
deputed him to this service. Artaxerxes, however, defeating the
Lacedaemonians in a sea-fight at Cnidos, under the conduct of
Pharnabazus and Conon, after he had stripped them of their sovereignty
by sea, at the same time, brought, so to say, the whole of Greece over
to him, so that upon his own terms he dictated the celebrated peace
among them, styled the peace of Antalcidas. This Antalcidas was a
Spartan, the son of one Leon, who, acting for the king's interest,
induced the Lacedaemonians to covenant to let all the Greek cities in
Asia and the islands adjacent to it become subject and tributary to
him, peace being upon these conditions established among the Greeks, if
indeed the honorable name of peace can fairly be given to what was in
fact the disgrace and betrayal of Greece, a treaty more inglorious than
had ever been the result of any war to those defeated in it.
And therefore Artaxerxes, though always abominating other Spartans, and
looking upon them, as Dinon says, to be the most impudent men living,
gave wonderful honor to Antalcidas when he came to him into Persia; so
much so that one day, taking a garland of flowers and dipping it in the
most precious ointment, he sent it to him after supper, a favor which
all were amazed at. Indeed he was a person fit to be thus delicately
treated, and to have such a crown, who had among the Persians thus made
fools of Leonidas and Callicratidas. Agesilaus, it seems, on someone
having said, "O the deplorable fate of Greece, now that the Spartans
turn Medes!" replied, "Nay, rather it is the Medes who become
Spartans." But the subtlety of the repartee did not wipe off the infamy
of the action. The Lacedaemonians soon after lost their sovereignty in
Greece by their defeat at Leuctra; but they had already lost their
honor by this treaty. So long then as Sparta continued to be the first
state in Greece, Artaxerxes continued to Antalcidas the honor of being
called his friend and his guest; but when, routed and humbled at the
battle of Leuctra, being under great distress for money, they had
dispatched Agesilaus into Egypt, and Antalcidas went up to Artaxerxes,
beseeching him to supply their necessities, he so despised, slighted,
and rejected him, that finding himself, on his return, mocked and
insulted by his enemies, and fearing also the ephors, he starved
himself to death. Ismenias, also, the Theban, and Pelopidas, who had
already gained the victory at Leuctra, arrived at the Persian court;
where the latter did nothing unworthy of himself. But Ismenias, being
commanded to do obeisance to the king, dropped his ring before him upon
the ground, and so, stooping to take it up, made a show of doing him
homage. He was so gratified with some secret intelligence which
Timagoras the Athenian sent in to him by the hand of his secretary,
Beluris, that he bestowed upon him ten thousand darics, and because he
was ordered, on account of some sickness, to drink cow's milk, there
were fourscore milch kine driven after him; also, he sent him a bed,
furniture, and servants for it, the Grecians not having skill enough to
make it, as also chairmen to carry him, being infirm in body, to the
seaside. Not to mention the feast made for him at court, which was so
princely and splendid that Ostanes, the king's brother, said to him,
"O, Timagoras, do not forget the sumptuous table you have sat at here;
it was not put before you for nothing;" which was indeed rather a
reflection upon his treason than to remind him of the king's bounty.
And indeed the Athenians condemned Timagoras to death for taking bribes.
But Artaxerxes gratified the Grecians in one thing in lieu of the many
wherewith he plagued them, and that was by taking off Tisaphernes,
their most hated and malicious enemy, whom he put to death; Parysatis
adding her influence to the charges made against him. For the king did
not persist long in his wrath with his mother, but was reconciled to
her, and sent for her, being assured that she had wisdom and courage
fit for royal power, and there being now no cause discernible but that
they might converse together without suspicion or offense. And from
thenceforward humoring the king in all things according to his heart's
desire, and finding fault with nothing that he did, she obtained great
power with him, and was gratified in all her requests. She perceived he
was desperately in love with Atossa, one of his own two daughters, and
that he concealed and checked his passion chiefly for fear of herself,
though, if we may believe some writers, he had privately given way to
it with the young girl already. As soon as Parysatis suspected it, she
displayed a greater fondness for the young girl than before, and
extolled both her virtue and beauty to him, as being truly imperial and
majestic. In fine, she persuaded him to marry her and declare her to be
his lawful wife, overriding all the principles and the laws by which
the Greeks hold themselves bound, and regarding himself as divinely
appointed for a law to the Persians, and the supreme arbitrator of good
and evil. Some historians further affirm, in which number is Heraclides
of Cuma, that Artaxerxes married not only this one, but a second
daughter also, Amestris, of whom we shall speak by and by. But he so
loved Atossa when she became his consort, that when leprosy had run
through her whole body, he was not in the least offended at it; but
putting up his prayers to Juno for her, to this one alone of all the
deities he made obeisance, by laying his hands upon the earth; and his
satraps and favorites made such offerings to the goddess by his
direction, that all along for sixteen furlongs, betwixt the court and
her temple, the road was filled up with gold and silver, purple and
horses, devoted to her.
He waged war out of his own kingdom with the Egyptians, under the
conduct of Pharnabazus and Iphicrates, but was unsuccessful by reason
of their dissensions. In his expedition against the Cadusians, he went
himself in person with three hundred thousand footmen and ten thousand
horse. And making an incursion into their country, which was so
mountainous as scarcely to be passable, and withal very misty,
producing no sort of harvest of corn or the like, but with pears,
apples, and other tree-fruits feeding a warlike and valiant breed of
men, he unawares fell into great distresses and dangers. For there was
nothing to be got fit for his men to eat, of the growth of that place,
nor could anything be imported from any other. All they could do was to
kill their beasts of burden, and thus an ass's head could scarcely be
bought for sixty drachmas. In short, the king's own table failed; and
there were but few horses left; the rest they had spent for food. Then
Teribazus, a man often in great favor with his prince for his valor,
and as often out of it for his buffoonery, and particularly at that
time in humble estate and neglected, was the deliverer of the king and
his army. There being two kings amongst the Cadusians, and each of them
encamping separately, Teribazus, after he had made his application to
Artaxerxes and imparted his design to him, went to one of the princes,
and sent away his son privately to the other. So each of them deceived
his man, assuring him that the other prince had deputed an ambassador
to Artaxerxes, suing for friendship and alliance for himself alone;
and, therefore, if he were wise, he told him, he must apply himself to
his master before he had decreed anything, and he, he said, would lend
him his assistance in all things. Both of them gave credit to these
words, and because they supposed they were each intrigued against by
the other, they both sent their envoys, one along with Teribazus, and
the other with his son. All this taking some time to transact, fresh
surmises and suspicions of Teribazus were expressed to the king, who
began to be out of heart, sorry that he had confided in him, and ready
to give ear to his rivals who impeached him. But at last he came, and
so did his son, bringing the Cadusian agents along with them, and so
there was a cessation of arms and a peace signed with both the princes.
And Teribazus, in great honor and distinction, set out homewards in the
company of the king; who, indeed, upon this journey made it appear
plainly that cowardice and effeminacy are the effects, not of delicate
and sumptuous living, as many suppose, but of a base and vicious
nature, actuated by false and bad opinions. For notwithstanding his
golden ornaments, his robe of state, and the rest of that costly
attire, worth no less than twelve thousand talents, with which the
royal person was constantly clad, his labors and toils were not a whit
inferior to those of the meanest persons in his army. With his quiver
by his side and his shield on his arm, he led them on foot, quitting
his horse, through craggy and steep ways, insomuch that the sight of
his cheerfulness and unwearied strength gave wings to the soldiers, and
so lightened the journey, that they made daily marches of above two
hundred furlongs.
After they had arrived at one of his own mansions, which had beautiful
ornamented parks in the midst of a region naked and without trees, the
weather being very cold, he gave full commission to his soldiers to
provide themselves with wood by cutting down any, without exception,
even the pine and cypress. And when they hesitated and were for sparing
them, being large and goodly trees, he, taking up an ax himself, felled
the greatest and most beautiful of them. After which his men used their
hatchets, and piling up many fires, passed away the night at their
ease. Nevertheless, he returned not without the loss of many and
valiant subjects, and of almost all his horses. And supposing that his
misfortunes and the ill success of his expedition made him despised in
the eyes of his people, he looked jealously on his nobles, many of whom
he slew in anger, and yet more out of fear. As, indeed, fear is the
bloodiest passion in princes; confidence, on the other hand, being
merciful, gentle, and unsuspicious. So we see among wild beasts, the
intractable and least tamable are the most timorous and most easily
startled; the nobler creatures, whose courage makes them trustful, are
ready to respond to the advances of men.
Artaxerxes, now being an old man, perceived that his sons were in
controversy about his kingdom, and that they made parties among his
favorites and peers. Those that were equitable among them thought it
fit, that as he had received it, so he should bequeath it, by right of
age, to Darius. The younger brother, Ochus, who was hot and violent,
had indeed a considerable number of the courtiers that espoused his
interest, but his chief hope was that by Atossa's means he should win
his father. For he flattered her with the thoughts of being his wife
and partner in the kingdom after the death of Artaxerxes. And truly it
was rumored that already Ochus maintained a too intimate correspondence
with her. This, however, was quite unknown to the king; who, being
willing to put down in good time his son Ochus's hopes, lest, by his
attempting the same things his uncle Cyrus did, wars and contentions
might again afflict his kingdom, proclaimed Darius, then twenty-five
years old, his successor, and gave him leave to wear the upright hat,
as they call it. It was a rule and usage of Persia, that the heir
apparent to the crown should beg a boon, and that he that declared him
so should give whatever he asked, provided it were within the sphere of
his power. Darius therefore requested Aspasia, in former time the most
prized of the concubines of Cyrus, and now belonging to the king. She
was by birth a Phocaean, of Ionia, born of free parents, and well
educated. Once when Cyrus was at supper, she was led in to him with
other women, who, when they were sat down by him, and he began to sport
and dally and talk jestingly with them, gave way freely to his
advances. But she stood by in silence, refusing to come when Cyrus
called her, and when his chamberlains were going to force her towards
him, said, "Whosoever lays hands on me shall rue it;" so that she
seemed to the company a sullen and rude-mannered person. However, Cyrus
was well pleased, and laughed, saying to the man that brought the
women, "Do you not see of a certainty that this woman alone of all that
came with you is truly noble and pure in character?" After which time
he began to regard her, and loved her above all of her sex, and called
her the Wise. But Cyrus being slain in the fight, she was taken among
the spoils of his camp.
Darius, in demanding her, no doubt much offended his father, for the
barbarian people keep a very jealous and watchful eye over their carnal
pleasures, so that it is death for a man not only to come near and
touch any concubine of his prince, but likewise on a journey to ride
forward and pass by the carriages in which they are conveyed. And
though, to gratify his passion, he had against all law married his
daughter Atossa, and had besides her no less than three hundred and
sixty concubines selected for their beauty, yet being importuned for
that one by Darius, he urged that she was a free-woman, and allowed him
to take her, if she had an inclination to go with him, but by no means
to force her away against it. Aspasia, therefore, being sent for, and,
contrary to the king's expectation, making choice of Darius, he gave
him her indeed, being constrained by law, but when he had done so, a
little after he took her from him. For he consecrated her priestess to
Diana of Ecbatana, whom they name Anaitis, that she might spend the
remainder of her days in strict chastity, thinking thus to punish his
son, not rigorously, but with moderation, by a revenge checkered with
jest and earnest. But he took it heinously, either that he was
passionately fond of Aspasia, or because he looked upon himself as
affronted and scorned by his father. Teribazus, perceiving him thus
minded, did his best to exasperate him yet further, seeing in his
injuries a representation of his own, of which the following is the
account: Artaxerxes, having many daughters, promised to give Apama to
Pharnabazus to wife, Rhodogune to Orontes, and Amestris to Teribazus;
whom alone of the three he disappointed, by marrying Amestris himself.
However, to make him amends, he betrothed his youngest daughter Atossa
to him. But after he had, being enamored of her too, as has been said,
married her, Teribazus entertained an irreconcilable enmity against
him. As indeed he was seldom at any other time steady in his temper,
but uneven and inconsiderate; so that whether he were in the number of
the choicest favorites of his prince, or whether he were offensive and
odious to him, he demeaned himself in neither condition with
moderation; but if he was advanced he was intolerably insolent, and in
his degradation not submissive and peaceable in his deportment, but
fierce and haughty.
And therefore Teribazus was to the young prince flame added upon flame,
ever urging him, and saying, that in vain those wear their hats upright
who consult not the real success of their affairs, and that he was ill
befriended of reason if he imagined, whilst he had a brother, who,
through the women's apartments, was seeking a way to the supremacy, and
a father of so rash and fickle a humor, that he should by succession
infallibly step up into the throne. For he that out of fondness to an
Ionian girl has eluded a law sacred and inviolable among the Persians
is not likely to be faithful in the performance of the most important
promises. He added, too, that it was not all one for Ochus not to
attain to, and for him to be put by his crown; since Ochus as a subject
might live happily, and nobody could hinder him; but he, being
proclaimed king, must either take up his scepter or lay down his life.
These words presently inflamed Darius: what Sophocles says being indeed
generally true: --
Quick travels the persuasion to what's wrong.
For the path is smooth, and upon an easy descent, that leads us to our
own will; and the most part of us desire what is evil through our
strangeness to and ignorance of good. And in this case, no doubt, the
greatness of the empire and the jealousy Darius had of Ochus furnished
Teribazus with material for his persuasions. Nor was Venus wholly
unconcerned in the matter, in regard, namely, of his loss of Aspasia.
Darius, therefore, resigned himself up to the dictates of Teribazus;
and many now conspiring with them, a eunuch gave information to the
king of their plot and the way how it was to be managed, having
discovered the certainty of it, that they had resolved to break into
his bed-chamber by night, and there to kill him as he lay. After
Artaxerxes had been thus advertised, he did not think fit, by
disregarding the discovery, to despise so great a danger, nor to
believe it when there was little or no proof of it. Thus then he did:
he charged the eunuch constantly to attend and accompany the
conspirators wherever they were; in the meanwhile, he broke down the
party-wall of the chamber behind his bed, and placed a door in it to
open and shut, which covered up with tapestry; so the hour approaching,
and the eunuch having told him the precise time in which the traitors
designed to assassinate him, he waited for them in his bed, and rose
not up till he had seen the faces of his assailants and recognized
every man of them. But as soon as he saw them with their swords drawn
and coming up to him, throwing up the hanging, he made his retreat into
the inner chamber, and, bolting to the door, raised a cry. Thus when
the murderers had been seen by him, and had attempted him in vain, they
with speed went back through the same doors they came in by, enjoining
Teribazus and his friends to fly, as their plot had been certainly
detected. They, therefore, made their escape different ways; but
Teribazus was seized by the king's guards, and after slaying many,
while they were laying hold on him, at length being struck through with
a dart at a distance, fell. As for Darius, who was brought to trial
with his children, the king appointed the royal judges to sit over him,
and because he was not himself present, but accused Darius by proxy, he
commanded his scribes to write down the opinion of every one of the
judges, and show it to him. And after they had given their sentences,
all as one man, and condemned Darius to death, the officers seized on
him and hurried him to a chamber not far off. To which place the
executioner, when summoned, came with a razor in his hand, with which
men of his employment cut off' the heads of offenders. But when he saw
that Darius was the person thus to be punished, he was appalled and
started back, offering to go out, as one that had neither power nor
courage enough to behead a king; yet at the threats and commands of the
judges, who stood at the prison door, he returned, and grasping the
hair of his head and bringing his face to the ground with one hand, he
cut through his neck with the razor he had in the other. Some affirm
that sentence was passed in the presence of Artaxerxes; that Darius,
after he had been convicted by clear evidence, falling prostrate before
him, did humbly beg his pardon; that instead of giving it, he, rising
up in rage and drawing his scimitar, smote him till he had killed him;
that then, going forth into the court, he worshipped the sun, and said,
"Depart in peace, ye Persians, and declare to your fellow-subjects how
the mighty Oromasdes hath dealt out vengeance to the contrivers of
unjust and unlawful things."
Such, then, was the issue of this conspiracy. And now Ochus was high in
his hopes, being confident in the influence of Atossa; but yet was
afraid of Ariaspes, the only male surviving, besides himself, of the
legitimate off-spring of his father, and of Arsames, one of his natural
sons. For indeed Ariaspes was already claimed as their prince by the
wishes of the Persians, not because he was the elder brother, but
because he excelled Ochus in gentleness, plain-dealing, and
good-nature; and on the other hand Arsames appeared, by his wisdom,
fitted for the throne, and that he was dear to his father, Ochus well
knew. So he laid snares for them both, and being no less treacherous
than bloody, he made use of the cruelty of his nature against Arsames,
and of his craft and wiliness against Ariaspes. For he suborned the
king's eunuchs and favorites to convey to him menacing and harsh
expressions from his father, as though he had decreed to put him to a
cruel and ignominious death. When they daily communicated these things
as secrets, and told him at one time that the king would do so to him
ere long, and at another, that the blow was actually close impending,
they so alarmed the young man, struck; such a terror into him, and cast
such a confusion and anxiety upon his thoughts, that, having prepared
some poisonous drugs, he drank them, that he might be delivered from
his life. The king, on hearing what kind of death he died, heartily
lamented him, and was not without a suspicion of the cause of it. But
being disabled by his age to search into and prove it, he was, after
the loss of this son, more affectionate than before to Arsames, did
manifestly place his greatest confidence in him, and made him privy to
his counsels. Whereupon Ochus had no longer patience to defer the
execution of his purpose, but having procured Arpates, Teribazus's son,
for the undertaking, he killed Arsames by his hand. Artaxerxes at that
time had but a little hold on life, by reason of his extreme age, and
so, when he heard of the fate of Arsames, he could not sustain it at
all, but sinking at once under the weight of his grief and distress,
expired, after a life of ninety-four years, and a reign of sixty-two.
And then he seemed a moderate and gracious governor, more especially as
compared to his son Ochus, who outdid all his predecessors in
blood-thirstiness and cruelty.
GALBA
Iphicrates the Athenian used to say that it is best to have a mercenary
soldier fond of money and of pleasures, for thus he will fight the more
boldly, to procure the means to gratify his desires. But most have been
of opinion, that the body of an army, as well as the natural one, when
in its healthy condition, should make no efforts apart, but in
compliance with its head. Wherefore they tell us that Paulus Aemilius,
on taking command of the forces in Macedonia, and finding them
talkative and impertinently busy, as though they were all commanders,
issued out his orders that they should have only ready hands and keen
swords, and leave the rest to him. And Plato, who can discern no use of
a good ruler or general, if his men are not on their part obedient and
conformable (the virtue of obeying, as of ruling, being in his opinion
one that does not exist without first a noble nature, and then a
philosophic education, where the eager and active powers are allayed
with the gentler and humaner sentiments), may claim in confirmation of
his doctrines sundry mournful instances elsewhere, and, in particular,
the events that followed among the Romans upon the death of Nero, in
which plain proofs were given that nothing is more terrible than a
military force moving about in an empire upon uninstructed and
unreasoning impulses. Demades, after the death of Alexander, compared
the Macedonian army to the Cyclops after his eye was out, seeing their
many disorderly and unsteady motions. But the calamities of the Roman
government might be likened to the motions of the giants that assailed
heaven, convulsed as it was, and distracted, and from every side
recoiling, as it were, upon itself, not so much by the ambition of
those who were proclaimed emperors, as by the covetousness and license
of the soldiery, who drove commander after commander out, like nails
one upon another.
Dionysius, in raillery, said of the Pheraean who enjoyed the government
of Thessaly only ten months, that he had been a tragedy-king, but the
Caesars' house in Rome, the Palatium, received in a shorter space of
time no less than four emperors, passing, as it were, across the stage,
and one making room for another to enter.
This was the only satisfaction of the distressed, that they needed not
require any other justice on their oppressors, seeing them thus murder
each other, and first of all, and that most justly, the one that
ensnared them first, and taught them to expect such happy results from
a change of emperors, sullying a good work by the pay he gave for its
being done, and turning revolt against Nero into nothing better than
treason.
For, as already related, Nymphidius Sabinus, captain of the guards,
together with Tigellinus, after Nero's circumstances were now
desperate, and it was perceived that he designed to fly into Egypt,
persuaded the troops to declare Galba emperor, as if Nero had been
already gone, promising to all the court and praetorian soldiers, as
they are called, seven thousand five hundred drachmas apiece, and to
those in service abroad twelve hundred and fifty drachmas each; so vast
a sum for a largess as it was impossible anyone could raise, but he
must be infinitely more exacting and oppressive than ever Nero was.
This quickly brought Nero to his grave, and soon after Galba too; they
murdered the first in expectation of the promised gift, and not long
after the other because they did not obtain it from him; and then,
seeking about to find someone who would purchase at such a rate, they
consumed themselves in a succession of treacheries and rebellions
before they obtained their demands. But to give a particular relation
of all that passed would require a history in full form; I have only to
notice what is properly to my purpose, namely, what the Caesars did and
suffered.
Sulpicius Galba is owned by all to have been the richest private person
that ever came to the imperial seat. And besides the additional honor
of being of the family of the Servii, he valued himself more especially
for his relationship to Catulus, the most eminent citizen of his time
both for virtue and renown, however he may have voluntarily yielded to
others as regards power and authority. Galba was also akin to Livia,
the wife of Augustus, by whose interest he was preferred to the
consulship by the emperor. It is said of him that he commanded the
troops well in Germany, and, being made proconsul in Libya, gained a
reputation that few ever had. But his quiet manner of living and his
sparingness in expenses and his disregard of appearance gave him, when
he became emperor, an ill-name for meanness, being, in fact, his
worn-out credit for regularity and moderation. He was entrusted by Nero
with the government of Spain, before Nero had yet learned to be
apprehensive of men of great repute. To the opinion, moreover,
entertained of his mild natural temper, his old age added a belief that
he would never act incautiously.
There while Nero's iniquitous agents savagely and cruelly harassed the
provinces under Nero's authority, he could afford no succor, but merely
offer this only ease and consolation, that he seemed plainly to
sympathize, as a fellow-sufferer, with those who were condemned upon
suits and sold. And when lampoons were made upon Nero and circulated
and sung everywhere about, he neither prohibited them, nor showed any
indignation on behalf of the emperor's agents, and for this was the
more beloved; as also that he was now well acquainted with them, having
been in chief power there eight years at the time when Junius Vindex,
general of the forces in Gaul, began his insurrection against Nero. And
it is reported that letters came to Galba before it fully broke out
into an open rebellion, which he neither seemed to give credit to, nor
on the other hand to take means to let Nero know, as other officers
did, sending to him the letters which came to them, and so spoiled the
design, as much as in them lay, who yet afterwards shared in the
conspiracy, and confessed they had been treacherous to themselves as
well as him. At last Vindex, plainly declaring war, wrote to Galba,
encouraging him to take the government upon him, and give a head to
this strong body, the Gaulish provinces, which could already count a
hundred thousand men in arms, and were able to arm a yet greater number
if occasion were. Galba laid the matter before his friends, some of
whom thought it fit to wait, and see what movement there might be and
what inclinations displayed at Rome for the revolution. But Titus
Vinius, captain of his praetorian guard, spoke thus: "Galba, what means
this inquiry? To question whether we shall continue faithful to Nero
is, in itself, to cease to be faithful. Nero is our enemy, and we must
by no means decline the help of Vindex: or else we must at once
denounce him, and march to attack him, because he wishes you to be the
governor of the Romans, rather than Nero their tyrant." Thereupon
Galba, by an edict, appointed a day when he would receive manumissions,
and general rumor and talk beforehand about his purpose brought
together a great crowd of men so ready for a change, that he scarcely
appeared, stepping up to the tribunal, but they with one consent
saluted him emperor. That title he refused at present to take upon him;
but after he had a while inveighed against Nero, and bemoaned the loss
of the more conspicuous of those that had been destroyed by him, he
offered himself and service to his country, not by the titles of Caesar
or emperor, but as the lieutenant of the Roman senate and people.
Now that Vindex did wisely in inviting Galba to the empire, Nero
himself bore testimony; who, though he seemed to despise Vindex and
altogether to slight the Gauls and their concerns, yet when he heard of
Galba (as by chance he had just bathed and sat down to his morning
meal), at this news he overturned the table. But the senate having
voted Galba an enemy, presently, to make his jest, and likewise to
personate a confidence among his friends, "This is a very happy
opportunity," he said, "for me, who sadly want such a booty as that of
the Gauls, which must all fall in as lawful prize; and Galba's estate I
can use or sell at once, he being now an open enemy." And accordingly
he had Galba's property exposed to sale, which when Galba heard of; he
sequestered all that was Nero's in Spain, and found far readier bidders.
Many now began to revolt from Nero, and pretty nearly all adhered to
Galba; only Clodius Macer in Africa, and Virginius Rufus, commander of
the German forces in Gaul, followed counsel of their own; yet these two
were not of one and the same advice, for Clodius, being sensible of the
rapines and murders to which he had been led by cruelty and
covetousness, was in perplexity, and felt it was not safe for him
either to retain or quit his command. But Virginius, who had the
command of the strongest legions, by whom he was many repeated times
saluted emperor and pressed to take the title upon him, declared that
he neither would assume that honor himself, nor see it given to any
other than whom the senate should elect.
These things at first did not a little disturb Galba, but when
presently Virginius and Vindex were in a manner forced by their armies,
having got the reins, as it were, out of their hands, to a great
encounter and battle, in which Vindex, having seen twenty thousand of
the Gauls destroyed, died by his own hand, and when the report straight
spread abroad, that all desired Virginius, after this great victory, to
take the empire upon him, or else they would return to Nero again,
Galba, in great alarm at this, wrote to Virginius, exhorting him to
join with him for the preservation of the empire and the liberty of the
Romans, and so retiring with his friends into Clunia, a town in Spain,
he passed away his time, rather repenting his former rashness, and
wishing for his wonted ease and privacy, than setting about what was
fit to be done.
It was now summer, when on a sudden, a little before dusk, comes a
freedman, Icelus by name, having arrived in seven days from Rome; and
being informed where Galba was reposing himself in private, he went
straight on, and pushing by the servants of the chamber, opened the
door and entered the room, and told him, that Nero being yet alive but
not appearing, first the army, and then the people and senate, declared
Galba emperor; not long after, it was reported that Nero was dead; "but
I," said he, "not giving credit to common fame, went myself to the body
and saw him lying dead, and only then set out to bring you word." This
news at once made Galba great again, and a crowd of people came
hastening to the door, all very confident of the truth of his tidings,
though the speed of the man was almost incredible. Two days after came
Titus Vinius with sundry others from the camp, who gave an account in
detail of the orders of the senate, and for this service was
considerably advanced. On the freedman, Galba conferred the honor of
the gold ring, and Icelus, as he had been before, now taking the name
of Marcianus, held the first place of the freedmen.
But at Rome, Nymphidius Sabinus, not gently and little by little, but
at once, and without exception, engrossed all power to himself; Galba,
being an old man (seventy-three years of age), would scarcely, he
thought, live long enough to be carried in a litter to Rome; and the
troops in the city were from old time attached to him, and now bound by
the vastness of the promised gift, for which they regarded him as their
benefactor, and Galba as their debtor. Thus presuming on his interest,
he straightway commanded Tigellinus, who was in joint commission with
himself, to lay down his sword; and giving entertainments, he invited
the former consuls and commanders, making use of Galba's name for the
invitation; but at the same time prepared many in the camp to propose
that a request should be sent to Galba that he should appoint
Nymphidius sole prefect for life without a colleague. And the modes
which the senate took to show him honor and increase his power, styling
him their benefactor, and attending daily at his gates, and giving him
the compliment of heading with his own name and confirming all their
acts, carried him on to a yet greater degree of arrogance, so that in a
short time he became an object, not only of dislike, but of terror, to
those that sought his favor. When the consuls themselves had dispatched
their couriers with the decrees of the senate to the emperor, together
with the sealed diplomas, which the authorities in all the towns where
horses or carriages are changed, look at and on that certificate hasten
the couriers forward with all their means, he was highly displeased
that his seal had not been used, and none of his soldiers employed on
the errand. Nay, he even deliberated what course to take with the
consuls themselves, but upon their submission and apology he was at
last pacified. To gratify the people, he did not interfere with their
beating to death any that fell into their hands of Nero's party.
Amongst others, Spiclus, the gladiator, was killed in the forum by
being thrown under Nero's statues, which they dragged about the place
over his body. Aponius, one of those who had been concerned in
accusations, they knocked to the ground, and drove carts loaded with
stones over him. And many others they tore in pieces, some of them no
way guilty, insomuch that Mauriscus, a person of great account and
character, told the senate that he feared, in a short time, they might
wish for Nero again.
Nymphidius, now advancing towards the consummation of his hopes, did
not refuse to let it be said that he was the son of Caius Caesar,
Tiberius's successor; who, it is told, was well acquainted with his
mother in his early youth, a woman indeed handsome enough, the
off-spring of Callistus, one of Caesar's freedmen, and a certain
seamstress. But it is plain that Caius's familiarity with his mother
was of too late date to give him any pretensions, and it was suspected
he might, if he pleased, claim a father in Martianus, the gladiator,
whom his mother, Nymphidia, took a passion for, being a famous man in
his way, whom also he much more resembled. However, though he certainly
owned Nymphidia for his mother, he ascribed meantime the downfall of
Nero to himself alone, and thought he was not sufficiently rewarded
with the honors and riches he enjoyed, (nay, though to all was added
the company of Sporus, whom he immediately sent for while Nero's body
was yet burning on the pile, and treated as his consort, with the name
of Poppaea,) but he must also aspire to the empire. And at Rome he had
friends who took measures for him secretly, as well as some women and
some members of the senate also, who worked underhand to assist him.
And into Spain he dispatched one of his friends, named Gellianus, to
view the posture of affairs.
But all things succeeded well with Galba after Nero's death; only
Virginius Rufus, still standing doubtful, gave him some anxiety, lest
he should listen to the suggestions of some who encouraged him to take
the government upon him, having, at present, besides the command of a
large and warlike army, the new honors of the defeat of Vindex and the
subjugation of one considerable part of the Roman empire, namely, the
entire Gaul, which had seemed shaking about upon the verge of open
revolt. Nor had any man indeed a greater name and reputation than
Virginius, who had taken a part of so much consequence in the
deliverance of the empire at once from a cruel tyranny and a Gallic
war. But he, standing to his first resolves, reserved to the senate the
power of electing an emperor. Yet when it was now manifest that Nero
was dead, the soldiers pressed him hard to it, and one of the tribunes,
entering his tent with his drawn sword, bade him either take the
government or that. But after Fabius Valens, having the command of one
legion, had first sworn fealty to Galba, and letters from Rome came
with tidings of the resolves of the senate, at last with much ado he
persuaded the army to declare Galba emperor. And when Flaccus
Hordeonius came by Galba's commission as his successor, he handed over
to him his forces, and went himself to meet Galba on his way, and
having met him, turned back to attend him; in all which no apparent
displeasure nor yet honor was shown him. Galba's feelings of respect
for him prevented the former; the latter was checked by the envy of his
friends, and particularly of Titus Vinius, who, acting in the desire of
hindering Virginius's promotion, unwittingly aided his happy genius in
rescuing him from those hazards and hardships which other commanders
were involved in, and securing him the safe enjoyment of a quiet life
and peaceable old age.
Near Narbo, a city in Gaul, the deputation of the senate met Galba,
and, after they had delivered their compliments, begged him to make
what haste he could to appear to the people, that impatiently expected
him. He discoursed with them courteously and unassumingly, and in his
entertainment, though Nymphidius had sent him royal furniture and
attendance of Nero's, he put all aside, and made use of nothing but his
own, for which he was well spoken of, as one who had a great mind, and
was superior to little vanities. But in a short time, Vinius, by
declaring to him that these noble, unpompous, citizen-like ways were a
mere affectation of popularity and a petty bashfulness at assuming his
proper greatness, induced him to make use of Nero's supplies, and in
his entertainments not to be afraid of a regal sumptuosity. And in more
than one way the old man let it gradually appear that he had put
himself under Vinius's disposal.
Vinius was a person of an excessive covetousness, and not quite free
from blame in respect to women. For being a young man, newly entered
into the service under Calvisius Sabinus, upon his first campaign, he
brought his commander's wife, a licentious woman, in a soldier's dress,
by night into the camp, and was found with her in the very general's
quarters, the principia, as the Romans call them. For which insolence
Caius Caesar cast him into prison, from whence he was fortunately
delivered by Caius's death. Afterwards, being invited by Claudius
Caesar to supper, he privily conveyed away a silver cup, which Caesar
hearing of, invited him again the next day, and gave order to his
servants to set before him no silver plate, but only earthen ware. And
this offense, through the comic mildness of Caesar's reprimand, was
treated rather as a subject of jest than as a crime. But the acts to
which now, when Galba was in his hands and his power was so extensive,
his covetous temper led him were the causes, in part, and in part the
provocation, of tragical and fatal mischiefs.
Nymphidius became very uneasy upon the return out of Spain of
Gellianus, whom he had sent to pry into Galba's actions, understanding
that Cornelius Laco was appointed commander of the court guards, and
that Vinius was the great favorite, and that Gellianus had not been
able so much as to come nigh, much less have any opportunity to offer
any words in private, so narrowly had he been watched and observed.
Nymphidius, therefore, called together the officers of the troops, and
declared to them that Galba of himself was a good, well-meaning old
man, but did not act by his own counsel, and was ill-guided by Vinius
and Laco; and lest, before they were aware, they should engross the
authority Tigellinus had with the troops, he proposed to them to send
deputies from the camp, acquainting him that if he pleased to remove
only these two from his counsel and presence, he would be much more
welcome to all at his arrival. Wherein when he saw he did not prevail
(it seeming absurd and unmannerly to give rules to an old commander
what friends to retain or displace, as if he had been a youth newly
taking the reins of authority into his hands), adopting another course,
he wrote himself to Galba letters in alarming terms, one while as if
the city were unsettled, and had not yet recovered its tranquillity;
then that Clodius Macer withheld the corn-ships from Africa; that the
legions in Germany began to be mutinous, and that he heard the like of
those in Syria and Judaea. But Galba not minding him much nor giving
credit to his stories, he resolved to make his attempt beforehand,
though Clodius Celsus, a native of Antioch, a person of sense, and
friendly and faithful to Nymphidius, told him he was wrong, saying he
did not believe one single street in Rome would ever give him the title
of Caesar. Nevertheless many also derided Galba, amongst the rest
Mithridates of Pontus, saying, that as soon as this wrinkled,
bald-headed man should be seen publicly at Rome, they would think it an
utter disgrace ever to have had such a Caesar.
At last it was resolved, about midnight, to bring Nymphidius into the
camp, and declare him emperor. But Antonius Honoratus, who was first
among the tribunes, summoning together in the evening those under his
command, charged himself and them severely with their many and
unreasonable turns and alterations, made without any purpose or regard
to merit, simply as if some evil genius hurried them from one treason
to another. "What though Nero's miscarriages," said he, "gave some
color to your former acts, can you say you have any plea for betraying
Galba in the death of a mother, the blood of a wife, or the degradation
of the imperial power upon the stage and amongst players? Neither did
we desert Nero for all this, until Nymphidius had persuaded us that he
had first left us and fled into Egypt. Shall we, therefore, send Galba
after, to appease Nero's shade, and, for the sake of making the son of
Nymphidia emperor, take off one of Livia's family, as we have already
the son of Agrippina? Rather, doing justice on him, let us revenge
Nero's death, and show ourselves true and faithful by preserving Galba."
The tribune having ended his harangue, the soldiers assented, and
encouraged all they met with to persist in their fidelity to the
emperor, and, indeed, brought over the greatest part. But presently
hearing a great shout, Nymphidius, imagining, as some say, that the
soldiers called for him, or hastening to be in time to check any
opposition and gain the doubtful, came on with many lights, carrying in
his hand a speech in writing, made by Cingonius Varro, which he had got
by heart, to deliver to the soldiers. But seeing the gates of the camp
shut up, and large numbers standing armed about the walls, he began to
be afraid. Yet drawing nearer, he demanded what they meant, and by
whose orders they were then in arms; but hearing a general acclamation,
all with one consent crying out that Galba was their emperor, advancing
towards them, he joined in the cry, and likewise commanded those that
followed him to do the same. The guard notwithstanding permitted him to
enter the camp only with a few, where he was presently struck with a
dart, which Septimius, being before him, received on his shield;
others, however, assaulted him with their naked swords, and on his
flying, pursued him into a soldier's cabin, where they slew him. And
dragging his body thence, they placed a railing about it, and exposed
it next day to public view. When Galba heard of the end which
Nymphidius had thus come to, he commanded that all his confederates who
had not at once killed themselves should immediately be dispatched;
amongst whom were Cingonius, who made his oration, and Mithridates,
formerly mentioned. It was, however, regarded as arbitrary and illegal,
and though it might be just, yet by no means popular, to take off men
of their rank and quality without a hearing. For everyone expected
another scheme of government, being deceived, as is usual, by the first
plausible pretenses; and the death of Petronius Turpilianus, who was of
consular dignity, and had remained faithful to Nero, was yet more
keenly resented. Indeed, the taking off of Macer in Africa by
Trebonius, and Fonteius by Valens in Germany, had a fair pretense, they
being dreaded as armed commanders, having their soldiers at their
bidding; but why refuse Turpilianus, an old man and unarmed, permission
to try to clear himself, if any part of the moderation and equity at
first promised were really to come to a performance? Such were the
comments to which these actions exposed him. When he came within five
and twenty furlongs or thereabouts of the city, he happened to light on
a disorderly rabble of the seamen, who beset him as he passed. These
were they whom Nero made soldiers, forming them into a legion. They so
rudely crowded to have their commission confirmed, that they did not
let Galba either be seen or heard by those that had come out to meet
their new emperor; but tumultuously pressed on with loud shouts to have
colors to their legion, and quarters assigned them. Galba put them off
until another time, which they interpreting as a denial, grew more
insolent and mutinous, following and crying out, some of them with
their drawn swords in their hands. Upon seeing which, Galba commanded
the horse to ride over them, when they were soon routed, not a man
standing his ground, and many of them were slain, both there and in the
pursuit; an ill omen, that Galba should make his first entry through so
much blood and among dead bodies. And now he was looked upon with
terror and alarm by any who had entertained contempt of him at the
sight of his age and apparent infirmities.
But when he desired presently to let it appear what change would be
made from Nero's profuseness and sumptuosity in giving presents, he
much missed his aim, and fell so short of magnificence, that he
scarcely came within the limits of decency. When Canus, who was a
famous musician, played at supper for him, he expressed his
approbation, and bade the bag be brought to him; and taking a few gold
pieces, put them in with this remark, that it was out of his own purse,
and not on the public account. He ordered the largesses which Nero had
made to actors and wrestlers and such like to be strictly required
again, allowing only the tenth part to be retained; though it turned to
very small account, most of those persons expending their daily income
as fast as they received it, being rude, improvident livers; upon which
he had further inquiry made as to those who had bought or received from
them, and called upon these people to refund. The trouble was infinite,
the exactions being prosecuted far, touching a great number of persons,
bringing disrepute on Galba, and general hatred on Vinius, who made the
emperor appear base-minded and mean to the world, whilst he himself was
spending profusely, taking whatever he could get, and selling to any
buyer. Hesiod tells us to drink without stinting of
The end and the beginning of the cask.
And Vinius, seeing his patron old and decaying, made the most of what
he considered to be at once the first of his fortune and the last of it.
Thus the aged man suffered in two ways: first, through the evil deeds
which Vinius did himself, and, next, by his preventing or bringing into
disgrace those just acts which he himself designed. Such was the
punishing Nero's adherents. When he destroyed the bad, amongst whom
were Helius, Polycletus, Petinus, and Patrobius, the people mightily
applauded the act, crying out, as they were dragged through the forum,
that it was a goodly sight, grateful to the gods themselves, adding,
however, that the gods and men alike demanded justice on Tigellinus,
the very tutor and prompter of all the tyranny. This good man, however,
had taken his measures beforehand, in the shape of a present and a
promise to Vinius. Turpilianus could not be allowed to escape with
life, though his one and only crime had been that he had not betrayed
or shown hatred to such a ruler as Nero. But he who had made Nero what
he became, and afterwards deserted and betrayed him whom he had so
corrupted, was allowed to survive as an instance that Vinius could do
anything, and an advertisement that those that had money to give him
need despair of nothing. The people, however, were so possessed with
the desire of seeing Tigellinus dragged to execution, that they never
ceased to require it at the theater and in the race-course, till they
were checked by an edict from the emperor himself, announcing that
Tigellinus could not live long, being wasted with a consumption, and
requesting them not to seek to make his government appear cruel and
tyrannical. So the dissatisfied populace were laughed at, and
Tigellinus made a splendid feast, and sacrificed in thanksgiving for
his deliverance: and after supper, Vinius, rising from the emperor's
table, went to revel with Tigellinus, taking his daughter, a widow,
with him; to whom Tigellinus presented his compliments, with a gift of
twenty-five myriads of money, and bade the superintendent of his
concubines take off a rich necklace from her own neck and tie it about
hers, the value of it being estimated at fifteen myriads.
After this, even reasonable acts were censured; as, for example, the
treatment of the Gauls who had been in the conspiracy with Vindex. For
people looked upon their abatement of tribute and admission to
citizenship as a piece, not of clemency on the part of Galba, but of
money-making on that of Vinius. And thus the mass of the people began
to look with dislike upon the government. The soldiers were kept on a
while in expectation of the promised donative, supposing that if they
did not receive the full, yet they should have at least as much as Nero
gave them. But when Galba, on hearing they began to complain, declared
greatly, and like a general, that he was used to enlist and not to buy
his soldiers, when they heard of this, they conceived an implacable
hatred against him; for he did not seem to defraud them merely himself
in their present expectations, but to give an ill precedent, and
instruct his successors to do the like. This heart-burning, however,
was as yet at Rome a thing undeclared, and a certain respect for
Galba's personal presence somewhat retarded their motions, and took off
their edge, and their having no obvious occasion for beginning a
revolution curbed and kept under, more or less, their resentments. But
those forces that had been formerly under Virginius, and now were under
Flaccus in Germany, valuing themselves much upon the battle they had
fought with Vindex, and finding now no advantage of it, grew very
refractory and intractable towards their officers: and Flaccus they
wholly disregarded, being incapacitated in body by unintermitted gout,
and, besides, a man of little experience in affairs. So at one of their
festivals, when it was customary for the officers of the army to wish
all health and happiness to the emperor, the common soldiers began to
murmur loudly, and on their officers persisting in the ceremony,
responded with the words, "If he deserves it."
When some similar insolence was committed by the legions under
Vitellius, frequent letters with the information came to Galba from his
agents; and taking alarm at this, and fearing that he might be despised
not only for his old age, but also for want of issue, he determined to
adopt some young man of distinction, and declare him his successor.
There was at this time in the city Marcus Otho, a person of fair
extraction, but from his childhood one of the few most debauched,
voluptuous, and luxurious livers in Rome. And as Homer gives Paris in
several places the title of "fair Helen's love," making a woman's name
the glory and addition to his, as if he had nothing else to distinguish
him, so Otho was renowned in Rome for nothing more than his marriage
with Poppaea, whom Nero had a passion for when she was Crispinus's
wife. But being as yet respectful to his own wife, and standing in awe
of his mother, he engaged Otho underhand to solicit her. For Nero lived
familiarly with Otho, whose prodigality won his favor, and he was well
pleased when he took the freedom to jest upon him as mean and
penurious. Thus when Nero one day perfumed himself with some rich
essence and favored Otho with a sprinkle of it, he, entertaining Nero
next day, ordered gold and silver pipes to disperse the like on a
sudden freely, like water, throughout the room. As to Poppaea, he was
beforehand with Nero, and first seducing her himself, then, with the
hope of Nero's favor, he prevailed with her to part with her husband,
and brought her to his own house as his wife, and was not content
afterwards to have a share in her, but grudged to have Nero for a
claimant, Poppaea herself, they say, being rather pleased than
otherwise with this jealousy; she sometimes excluded Nero, even when
Otho was not present, either to prevent his getting tired with her, or,
as some say, not liking the prospect of an imperial marriage, though
willing enough to have the emperor as her lover. So that Otho ran the
risk of his life, and strange it was he escaped, when Nero, for this
very marriage, killed his wife and sister. But he was beholden to
Seneca's friendship, by whose persuasions and entreaty Nero was
prevailed with to dispatch him as praetor into Lusitania, on the shores
of the Ocean; where he behaved himself very agreeably and indulgently
to those he had to govern, well knowing this command was but to color
and disguise his banishment.
When Galba revolted from Nero, Otho was the first governor of any of
the provinces that came over to him, bringing all the gold and silver
he possessed in the shape of cups and tables, to be coined into money,
and also what servants he had fitly qualified to wait upon a prince. In
all other points, too, he was faithful to him, and gave him sufficient
proof that he was inferior to none in managing public business. And he
so far ingratiated himself, that he rode in the same carriage with him
during the whole journey, several days together. And in this journey
and familiar companionship, he won over Vinius also, both by his
conversation and presents, but especially by conceding to him the first
place, securing the second, by his interest, for himself. And he had
the advantage of him in avoiding all odium and jealousy, assisting all
petitioners, without asking for any reward, and appearing courteous and
of easy access towards all, especially to the military men, for many of
whom he obtained commands, some immediately from the emperor, others by
Vinius's means, and by the assistance of the two favorite freedmen,
Icelus and Asiaticus, these being the men in chief power in the court.
As often as he entertained Galba, he gave the cohort on duty, in
addition to their pay, a piece of gold for every man there, upon
pretense of respect to the emperor, while really he undermined him, and
stole away his popularity with the soldiers.
So Galba consulting about a successor, Vinius introduced Otho, yet not
even this gratis, but upon promise that he would marry his daughter, if
Galba should make him his adopted son and successor to the empire. But
Galba, in all his actions, showed clearly that he preferred the public
good before his own private interest, not aiming so much to pleasure
himself as to advantage the Romans by his selection. Indeed he does not
seem to have been so much as inclined to make choice of Otho, had it
been but to inherit his own private fortune, knowing his extravagant
and luxurious character, and that he was already plunged in debt five
thousand myriads deep. So he listened to Vinius, and made no reply, but
mildly suspended his determination. Only he appointed himself consul,
and Vinius his colleague, and it was the general expectation that he
would declare his successor at the beginning of the new year. And the
soldiers desired nothing more than that Otho should be the person.
But the forces in Germany broke out into their mutiny whilst he was yet
deliberating, and anticipated his design. All the soldiers in general
felt much resentment against Galba for not having given them their
expected largess but these troops made a pretense of a more particular
concern, that Virginius Rufus was cast off dishonorably, and that the
Gauls who had fought with them were well rewarded, while those who had
refused to take part with Vindex were punished; and Galba's thanks
seemed all to be for him, to whose memory he had done honor after his
death with public solemnities as though he had been made emperor by his
means only. Whilst these discourses passed openly throughout the army,
on the first day of the first month of the year, the Calends, as they
call it, of January, Flaccus summoning them to take the usual
anniversary oath of fealty to the emperor, they overturned and pulled
down Galba's statues, and having sworn in the name of the senate and
people of Rome, departed. But the officers now feared anarchy and
confusion, as much as rebellion; and one of them came forward and said:
"What will become of us, my fellow-soldiers, if we neither set up
another general, nor retain the present one? This will be not so much
to desert from Galba as to decline all subjection and command. It is
useless to try and maintain Flaccus Hordeonius, who is but a mere
shadow and image of Galba. But Vitellius, commander of the other
Germany, is but one day's march distant, whose father was censor and
thrice consul, and in a manner co-emperor with Claudius Caesar; and he
himself has the best proof to show of his bounty and largeness of mind,
in the poverty with which some reproach him. Him let us make choice of,
that all may see we know how to choose an emperor better than either
Spaniards or Lusitanians." Which motion whilst some assented to, and
others gainsaid, a certain standard-bearer slipped out and carried the
news to Vitellius, who was entertaining much company by night. This,
taking air, soon passed through the troops, and Fabius Valens, who
commanded one legion, riding up next day with a large body of horse,
saluted Vitellius emperor. He had hitherto seemed to decline it,
professing a dread he had to undertake the weight of the government;
but on this day, being fortified, they say, by wine and a plentiful
noonday repast, he began to yield, and submitted to take on him the
title of Germanicus they gave him, but desired to be excused as to that
of Caesar. And immediately the army under Flaccus also, putting away
their fine and popular oaths in the name of the senate, swore obedience
to Vitellius as emperor, to observe whatever he commanded.
Thus Vitellius was publicly proclaimed emperor in Germany; which news
coming to Galba's ear, he no longer deferred his adoption; yet knowing
that some of his friends were using their interest for Dolabella, and
the greatest number of them for Otho, neither of whom he approved of,
on a sudden, without anyone's privity, he sent for Piso, the son of
Crassus and Scribonia, whom Nero slew, a young man in general of
excellent dispositions for virtue, but his most eminent qualities those
of steadiness and austere gravity. And so he set out to go to the camp
to declare him Caesar and successor to the empire. But at his very
first going forth, many signs appeared in the heavens, and when he
began to make a speech to the soldiers, partly extempore, and partly
reading it, the frequent claps of thunder and flashes of lightning and
the violent storm of rain that burst on both the camp and the city were
plain discoveries that the divine powers did not look with favor or
satisfaction on this act of adoption, that would come to no good
result. The soldiers, also, showed symptoms of hidden discontent, and
wore sullen looks, no distribution of money being even now made to
them. However, those that were present and observed Piso's countenance
and voice could not but feel admiration to see him so little overcome
by so great a favor, of the magnitude of which at the same time he
seemed not at all insensible. Otho's aspect, on the other hand, did not
fail to let many marks appear of his bitterness and anger at his
disappointment; since to have been the first man thought of for it, and
to have come to the very point of being chosen, and now to be put by,
was in his feelings a sign of the displeasure and ill-will of Galba
towards him. This filled him with fears and apprehensions, and sent him
home with a mind full of various passions, whilst he dreaded Piso,
hated Galba, and was full of wrath and indignation against Vinius. And
the Chaldeans and soothsayers about him would not permit him to lay
aside his hopes or quit his design, chiefly Ptolemaeus, insisting much
on a prediction he had made, that Nero should not murder Otho, but he
himself should die first, and Otho succeed as emperor; for the first
proving true, he thought he could not distrust the rest. But none
perhaps stimulated him more than those that professed privately to pity
his hard fate and compassionate him for being thus ungratefully dealt
with by Galba; especially Nymphidius's and Tigellinus's creatures, who,
being now cast off and reduced to low estate, were eager to put
themselves upon him, exclaiming at the indignity he had suffered, and
provoking him to revenge himself.
Amongst these were Veturius and Barbius, the one an optio, the other a
tesserarius (these are men who have the duties of messengers and
scouts), with whom Onomastus, one of Otho's freedmen, went to the camp,
to tamper with the army, and brought over some with money, others with
fair promises, which was no hard matter, they being already corrupted,
and only wanting a fair pretense. It had been otherwise more than the
work of four days (which elapsed between the adoption and murder) so
completely to infect them as to cause a general revolt. On the sixth
day ensuing, the eighteenth, as the Romans call it, before the Calends
of February, the murder was done. On that day, in the morning, Galba
sacrificed in the Palatium, in the presence of his friends, when
Umbricius, the priest, taking up the entrails, and speaking not
ambiguously, but in plain words, said that there were signs of great
troubles ensuing, and dangerous snares laid for the life of the
emperor. Thus Otho had even been discovered by the finger of the god;
being there just behind Galba, hearing all that was said, and seeing
what was pointed out to them by Umbricius. His countenance changed to
every color in his fear, and he was betraying no small discomposure,
when Onomastus, his freedman, came up and acquainted him that the
master-builders had come, and were waiting for him at home. Now that
was the signal for Otho to meet the soldiers. Pretending then that he
had purchased an old house, and was going to show the defects to those
that had sold it to him, he departed; and passing through what is
called Tiberius's house, he went on into the forum, near the spot where
a golden pillar stands, at which all the several roads through Italy
terminate.
Here, it is related, no more than twenty-three received and saluted him
emperor; so that, although he was not in mind as in body enervated with
soft living and effeminacy, being in his nature bold and fearless
enough in danger, nevertheless, he was afraid to go on. But the
soldiers that were present would not suffer him to recede, but came
with their drawn swords about his chair, commanding the bearers to take
him up, whom he hastened on, saying several times over to himself, "I
am a lost man." Several persons overheard the words, who stood by
wondering, rather than alarmed, because of the small number that
attempted such an enterprise. But as they marched on through the forum,
about as many more met him, and here and there three or four at a time
joined in. Thus returning towards the camp, with their bare swords in
their hands, they saluted him as Caesar; whereupon Martialis, the
tribune in charge of the watch, who was, they say, noways privy to it,
but was simply surprised at the unexpectedness of the thing, and afraid
to refuse, permitted him entrance. And after this, no man made any
resistance; for they that knew nothing of the design, being purposely
encompassed by the conspirators, as they were straggling here and
there, first submitted for fear, and afterwards were persuaded into
compliance. Tidings came immediately to Galba in the Palatium, whilst
the priest was still present and the sacrifices at hand, so that
persons who were most entirely incredulous about such things, and most
positive in their neglect of them, were astonished, and began to marvel
at the divine event. A multitude of all sorts of people now began to
run together out of the forum; Vinius and Laco and some of Galba's
freedmen drew their swords and placed themselves beside him; Piso went
forth and addressed himself to the guards on duty in the court; and
Marius Celsus, a brave man, was dispatched to the Illyrian legion,
stationed in what is called the Vipsanian chamber, to secure them.
Galba now consulting whether he should go out, Vinius dissuaded him,
but Celsus and Laco encouraged him by all means to do so, and sharply
reprimanded Vinius. But on a sudden a rumor came hot that Otho was
slain in the camp; and presently appeared one Julius Atticus, a man of
some distinction in the guards, running up with his drawn sword, crying
out that he had slain Caesar's enemy; and pressing through the crowd
that stood in his way, he presented himself before Galba with his
bloody weapon, who, looking on him, demanded, "Who gave you your
orders?" And on his answering that it had been his duty and the
obligation of the oath he had taken, the people applauded, giving loud
acclamations, and Galba got into his chair and was carried out to
sacrifice to Jupiter, and so to show himself publicly. But coming into
the forum, there met him there, like a turn of wind, the opposite
story, that Otho had made himself master of the camp. And as usual in a
crowd of such a size, some called to him to return back, others to move
forward; some encouraged him to be bold and fear nothing, others bade
him be cautious and distrust. And thus whilst his chair was tossed to
and fro, as it were on the waves, often tottering, there appeared first
horse, and straightaway heavy-armed foot, coming through Paulus's
court, and all with one accord crying out, "Down with this private
man." Upon this, the crowd of people set off running, not to fly and
disperse, but to possess themselves of the colonnades and elevated
places of the forum, as it might be to get places to see a spectacle.
And as soon as Atillius Vergilio knocked down one of Galba's statues,
this was taken as the declaration of war, and they sent a discharge of
darts upon Galba's litter, and, missing their aim, came up and attacked
him nearer hand with their naked swords. No man resisted or offered to
stand up in his defense, save one only, a centurion, Sempronius Densus,
the single man among so many thousands that the sun beheld that day act
worthily of the Roman empire, who, though he had never received any
favor from Galba, yet out of bravery and allegiance endeavored to
defend the litter. First, lifting up his switch of vine, with which the
centurions correct the soldiers when disorderly, he called aloud to the
aggressors, charging them not to touch their emperor. And when they
came upon him hand to hand, he drew his sword, and made a defense for a
long time, until at last he was cut under the knees and brought to the
ground.
Galba's chair was upset at the spot called the Lacus Curtius, where
they ran up and struck at him as he lay in his corslet. He, however,
offered his throat, bidding them "Strike, if it be for the Romans'
good." He received several wounds on his legs and arms, and at last was
struck in the throat, as most say, by one Camurius, a soldier of the
fifteenth legion. Some name Terentius, others Lecanius; and there are
others that say it was Fabius Falulus, who, it is reported, cut off the
head and carried it away in the skirt of his coat, the baldness making
it a difficult thing to take hold of. But those that were with him
would not allow him to keep it covered up, but bade him let everyone
see the brave deed he had done; so that after a while he stuck upon the
lance the head of the aged man that had been their grave and temperate
ruler, their supreme priest and consul, and, tossing it up in the air,
ran like a bacchanal, twirling and flourishing with it, while the blood
ran down the spear. But when they brought the head to Otho,
"Fellow-soldiers," he cried out, "this is nothing, unless you show me
Piso's too," which was presented him not long after. The young man,
retreating upon a wound received, was pursued by one Murcus, and slain
at the temple of Vesta. Titus Vinius was also dispatched, avowing
himself to have been privy to the conspiracy against Galba by calling
out that they were killing him contrary to Otho's pleasure. However,
they cut off his head, and Laco's too, and brought them to Otho,
requesting a boon.
And as Archilochus says --
When six or seven lie breathless on the ground,
'Twas I, 'twas I, say thousands, gave the wound.
Thus many that had no share in the murder wetted their hands and swords
in blood, and came and showed them to Otho, presenting memorials suing
for a gratuity. Not less than one hundred and twenty were identified
afterwards from their written petitions; all of whom Vitellius sought
out and put to death. There came also into the camp Marius Celsus, and
was accused by many voices of encouraging the soldiers to assist Galba,
and was demanded to death by the multitude. Otho had no desire for
this, yet, fearing an absolute denial, he professed that he did not
wish to take him off so soon, having many matters yet to learn from
him; and so committed him safe to the custody of those he most confided
in.
Forthwith a senate was convened, and as if they were not the same men,
or had other gods to swear by, they took that oath in Otho's name which
he himself had taken in Galba's and had broken; and withal conferred on
him the titles of Caesar and Augustus; whilst the dead carcasses of the
slain lay yet in their consular robes in the marketplace. As for their
heads, when they could make no other use of them, Vinius's they sold to
his daughter for two thousand five hundred drachmas; Piso's was begged
by his wife Verania; Galba's they gave to Patrobius's servants; who
when they had it, after all sorts of abuse and indignities, tumbled it
into the place where those that suffer death by the emperor's orders
are usually cast, called Sessorium. Galba's body was conveyed away by
Priscus Helvidius by Otho's permission, and buried in the night by
Argius, his freedman.
Thus you have the history of Galba, a person inferior to few Romans,
either for birth or riches, rather exceeding all of his time in both,
having lived in great honor and reputation in the reigns of five
emperors, insomuch that he overthrew Nero rather by his fame and repute
in the world than by actual force and power. Of all the others that
joined in Nero's deposition, some were by general consent regarded as
unworthy, others had only themselves to vote them deserving of the
empire. To him the title was offered, and by him it was accepted; and
simply lending his name to Vindex's attempt, he gave to what had been
called rebellion before, the name of a civil war, by the presence of
one that was accounted fit to govern. And, therefore, as he considered
that he had not so much sought the position as the position had sought
him, he proposed to command those whom Nymphidius and Tigellinus had
wheedled into obedience, no otherwise than Scipio formerly and
Fabricius and Camillus had commanded the Romans of their times. But
being now overcome with age, he was indeed among the troops and legions
an upright ruler upon the antique model; but for the rest, giving
himself up to Vinius, Laco, and his freedmen, who made their gain of
all things, no otherwise than Nero had done to his insatiate favorites,
he left none behind him to wish him still in power, though many to
compassionate his death.
OTHO
The new emperor went early in the morning to the capitol, and
sacrificed; and, having commanded Marius Celsus to be brought, he
saluted him, and with obliging language desired him rather to forget
his accusation than remember his acquittal; to which Celsus answered
neither meanly nor ungratefully, that his very crime ought to recommend
his integrity, since his guilt had been his fidelity to Galba, from
whom he had never received any personal obligations. Upon which they
were both of them admired by those that were present, and applauded by
the soldiers.
In the senate, Otho said much in a gentle and popular strain. He was to
have been consul for part of that year himself, but he gave the office
to Virginius Rufus, and displaced none that had been named for the
consulship by either Nero or Galba. Those that were remarkable for
their age and dignity he promoted to the priest-hoods; and restored the
remains of their fortunes, that had not yet been sold, to all those
senators that were banished by Nero and recalled by Galba. So that the
nobility and chief of the people, who were at first apprehensive that
no human creature, but some supernatural penal, or vindictive power had
seized the empire, began now to flatter themselves with hopes of a
government that smiled upon them thus early.
Besides, nothing gratified or gained the whole Roman people more than
his justice in relation to Tigellinus. It was not seen how he was in
fact already suffering punishment, not only by the very terror of
retribution which he saw the whole city requiring as a just debt, but
with several incurable diseases also; not to mention those unhallowed
frightful excesses among impure and prostituted women, to which, at the
very close of life, his lewd nature clung, and in them gasped out, as
it were, its last; these, in the opinion of all reasonable men, being
themselves the extremest punishment, and equal to many deaths. But it
was felt like a grievance by people in general that he continued yet to
see the light of day, who had been the occasion of the loss of it to so
many persons, and such persons, as had died by his means. Wherefore
Otho ordered him to be sent for, just as he was contriving his escape
by means of some vessels that lay ready for him on the coast near where
he lived, in the neighborhood of Sinuessa. At first he endeavored to
corrupt the messenger, by a large sum of money, to favor his design;
but when he found this was to no purpose, he made him as considerable a
present, as if he had really connived at it, only entreating him to
stay till he had shaved; and so took that opportunity, and with his
razor dispatched himself.
And while giving the people this most righteous satisfaction of their
desires, for himself he seemed to have no sort of regard for any
private injuries of his own. And at first, to please the populace, he
did not refuse to be called Nero in the theater, and did not interfere
when some persons displayed Nero's statues to public view. And Cluvius
Rufus says, imperial letters, such as are sent with couriers, went into
Spain with the name of Nero affixed adoptively to that of Otho; but as
soon as he perceived this gave offense to the chief and most
distinguished citizens, it was omitted.
After he had begun to model the government in this manner, the paid
soldiers began to murmur, and endeavored to make him suspect and
chastise the nobility, either really out of a concern for his safety,
or wishing, upon this pretense, to stir up trouble and warfare. Thus,
whilst Crispinus, whom he had ordered to bring him the seventeenth
cohort from Ostia, began to collect what he wanted after it was dark,
and was putting the arms upon the wagons, some of the most turbulent
cried out that Crispinus was disaffected, that the senate was
practicing something against the emperor, and that those arms were to
be employed against Caesar, and not for him. When this report was once
set afoot, it got the belief and excited the passions of many; they
broke out into violence; some seized the wagons, and others slew
Crispinus and two centurions that opposed them; and the whole number of
them, arraying themselves in their arms, and encouraging one another to
stand by Caesar, marched to Rome. And hearing there that eighty of the
senators were at supper with Otho, they flew to the palace, and
declared it was a fair opportunity to take off Caesar's enemies at one
stroke. A general alarm ensued of an immediate coming sack of the city.
All were in confusion about the palace, and Otho himself in no small
consternation, being not only concerned for the senators (some of whom
had brought their wives to supper thither), but also feeling himself to
be an object of alarm and suspicion to them, whose eyes he saw fixed on
him in silence and terror. Therefore he gave orders to the prefects to
address the soldiers and do their best to pacify them, while he bade
the guests rise, and leave by another door. They had only just made
their way out, when the soldiers rushed into the room, and called out,
"Where are Caesar's enemies?" Then Otho, standing up on his couch, made
use both of arguments and entreaties, and by actual tears at last, with
great difficulty, persuaded them to desist. The next day he went to the
camp, and distributed a bounty of twelve hundred and fifty drachmas a
man amongst them; then commended them for the regard and zeal they had
for his safety, but told them, that there were some who were intriguing
among them, who not only accused his own clemency, but had also
misrepresented their loyalty; and, therefore, he desired their
assistance in doing justice upon them. To which when they all
consented, he was satisfied with the execution of two only, whose
deaths he knew would be regretted by no one man in the whole army.
Such conduct, so little expected from him, was rewarded by some with
gratitude and confidence; others looked upon his behavior as a course
to which necessity drove him, to gain the people to the support of the
war. For now there were certain tidings that Vitellius had assumed the
sovereign title and authority, and frequent expresses brought accounts
of new accessions to him; others, however, came, announcing that the
Pannonian, Dalmatian, and Moesian legions, with their officers, adhered
to Otho. Erelong also came favorable letters from Mucianus and
Vespasian, generals of two formidable armies, the one in Syria, the
other in Judaea, to assure him of their firmness to his interest: in
confidence whereof he was so exalted, that he wrote to Vitellius not to
attempt anything beyond his post; and offered him large sums of money
and a city, where he might live his time out in pleasure and ease.
These overtures at first were responded to by Vitellius with
equivocating civilities; which soon, however, turned into an
interchange of angry words; and letters passed between the two,
conveying bitter and shameful terms of reproach, which were not false
indeed, for that matter, only it was senseless and ridiculous for each
to assail the other with accusations to which both alike must plead
guilty. For it were hard to determine which of the two had been most
profuse, most effeminate, which was most a novice in military affairs,
and most involved in debt through previous want of means.
As to the prodigies and apparitions that happened about this time,
there were many reported which none could answer for, or which were
told in different ways, but one which everybody actually saw with their
eyes was the statue in the capitol, of Victory carried in a chariot,
with the reins dropped out of her hands, as if she were grown too weak
to hold them any longer; and a second, that Caius Caesar's statue in
the island of Tiber, without any earthquake or wind to account for it,
turned round from west to east; and this they say, happened about the
time when Vespasian and his party first openly began to put themselves
forward. Another incident, which the people in general thought an evil
sign, was the inundation of the Tiber; for though it happened at a time
when rivers are usually at their fullest, yet such height of water and
so tremendous a flood had never been known before, nor such a
destruction of property, great part of the city being under water, and
especially the corn market, so that it occasioned a great dearth for
several days.
But when news was now brought that Caecina and Valens, commanding for
Vitellius, had possessed themselves of the Alps, Otho sent Dolabella (a
patrician, who was suspected by the soldiery of some ill design), for
whatever reason, whether it were fear of him or of anyone else, to the
town of Aquinum, to give encouragement there; and proceeding then to
choose which of the magistrates should go with him to the war, he named
amongst the rest Lucius, Vitellius's brother, without distinguishing
him by any new marks either of his favor or displeasure. He also took
the greatest precautions for Vitellius's wife and mother, that they
might be safe, and free from all apprehension for themselves. He made
Flavius Sabinus, Vespasian's brother, governor of Rome, either in honor
to the memory of Nero, who had advanced him formerly to that command,
which Galba had taken away, or else to show his confidence in Vespasian
by his favor to his brother.
After he came to Brixillum, a town of Italy near the Po, he stayed
behind himself, and ordered the army to march under the conduct of
Marius Celsus, Suetonius Paulinus, Gallus, and Spurina, all men of
experience and reputation, but unable to carry their own plans and
purposes into effect, by reason of the ungovernable temper of the army,
which would take orders from none but the emperor whom they themselves
had made their master. Nor was the enemy under much better discipline,
the soldiers there also being haughty and disobedient upon the same
account, but they were more experienced and used to hard work; whereas
Otho's men were soft from their long easy living and lack of service,
having spent most of their time in theaters and at state-shows and on
the stage; while moreover they tried to cover their deficiencies by
arrogance and vain display, pretending to decline their duty not
because they were unable to do the thing commanded but because they
thought themselves above it. So that Spurina had like to have been cut
in pieces for attempting to force them to their work; they assailed him
with insolent language, accusing him of a design to betray and ruin
Caesar's interest; nay, some of them that were in drink forced his tent
in the night, and demanded money for the expenses of their journey,
which they must at once take, they said, to the emperor, to complain of
him.
However, the contemptuous treatment they met with at Placentia did for
the present good service to Spurina, and to the cause of Otho. For
Vitellius's men marched up to the walls, and upbraided Otho's upon the
ramparts, calling them players, dancers, idle spectators of Pythian and
Olympic games, but novices in the art of war, who never so much as
looked on at a battle; mean souls, that triumphed in the beheading of
Galba, an old man unarmed, but had no desire to look real enemies in
the face. Which reproaches so inflamed them, that they kneeled at
Spurina's feet, entreated him to give his orders, and assured him no
danger or toil should be too great or too difficult for them. Whereupon
when Vitellius's forces made a vigorous attack on the town, and brought
up numerous engines against the walls, the besieged bravely repulsed
them, and, repelling the enemy with great slaughter, secured the safety
of a noble city, one of the most flourishing places in Italy.
Besides, it was observed that Otho's officers were much more
inoffensive, both towards the public and to private men, than those of
Vitellius; among whom was Caecina, who used neither the language nor
the apparel of a citizen; an overbearing, foreign-seeming man, of
gigantic stature and always dressed in trews and sleeves, after the
manner of the Gauls, whilst he conversed with Roman officials and
magistrates. His wife, too, traveled along with him, riding in splendid
attire on horseback, with a chosen body of cavalry to escort her. And
Fabius Valens, the other general, was so rapacious, that neither what
he plundered from enemies nor what he stole or got as gifts and bribes
from his friends and allies could satisfy his wishes. And it was said
that it was in order to have time to raise money that he had marched so
slowly that he was not present at the former attack. But some lay the
blame on Caecina, saying, that out of a desire to gain the victory by
himself before Fabius joined him, he committed sundry other errors of
lesser consequence, and by engaging unseasonably and when he could not
do so thoroughly, he very nearly brought all to ruin.
When he found himself beat off at Placentia, he set off to attack
Cremona, another large and rich city. In the meantime, Annius Gallus
marched to join Spurina at Placentia; but having intelligence that the
siege was raised, and that Cremona was in danger, he turned to its
relief, and encamped just by the enemy, where he was daily reinforced
by other officers. Caecina placed a strong ambush of heavy infantry in
some rough and woody country, and gave orders to his horse to advance,
and if the enemy should charge them, then to make a slow retreat, and
draw them into the snare. But his stratagem was discovered by some
deserters to Celsus, who attacked with a good body of horse, but
followed the pursuit cautiously, and succeeded in surrounding and
routing the troops in the ambuscade; and if the infantry which he
ordered up from the camp had come soon enough to sustain the horse,
Caecina's whole army, in all appearance, had been totally routed. But
Paulinus, moving too slowly, was accused of acting with a degree of
needless caution not to have been expected from one of his reputation.
So that the soldiers incensed Otho against him, accused him of
treachery, and boasted loudly that the victory had been in their power,
and that if it was not complete, it was owing to the mismanagement of
their generals; all which Otho did not so much believe as he was
willing to appear not to disbelieve. He therefore sent his brother
Titianus, with Proculus, the prefect of the guards, to the army, where
the latter was general in reality, and the former in appearance. Celsus
and Paulinus had the title of friends and counselors, but not the least
authority or power. At the same time, there was nothing but quarrel and
disturbance amongst the enemy, especially where Valens commanded; for
the soldiers here, being informed of what had happened at the
ambuscade, were enraged because they had not been permitted to be
present to strike a blow in defense of the lives of so many men that
had died in that action. Valens, with much difficulty, quieted their
fury, after they had now begun to throw missiles at him, and quitting
his camp, joined Caecina.
About this time, Otho came to Bedriacum, a little town near Cremona, to
the camp, and called a council of war; where Proculus and Titianus
declared for giving battle, while the soldiers were flushed with their
late success, saying they ought not to lose their time and opportunity
and present height of strength, and wait for Vitellius to arrive out of
Gaul. But Paulinus told them that the enemy's whole force was present,
and that there was no body of reserve behind; but that Otho, if he
would not be too precipitate, and choose the enemy's time, instead of
his own, for the battle, might expect reinforcements out of Moesia and
Pannonia, not inferior in numbers to the troops that were already
present. He thought it probable, too, that the soldiers, who were then
in heart before they were joined, would not be less so when the forces
were all come up. Besides, the deferring battle could not be
inconvenient to them that were sufficiently provided with all
necessaries; but the others, being in an enemy's country, must needs be
exceedingly straitened in a little time. Marius Celsus was of
Paulinus's opinion; Annius Gallus, being absent and under the surgeon's
hands through a fall from his horse, was consulted by letter, and
advised Otho to stay for those legions that were marching from Moesia.
But after all he did not follow the advice; and the opinion of those
that declared for a battle prevailed.
There are several reasons given for this determination, but the most
apparent is this; that the praetorian soldiers, as they are called, who
serve as guards, not relishing the military discipline which they now
had begun a little more to experience, and longing for their amusements
and unwarlike life among the shows of Rome, would not be commanded, but
were eager for a battle, imagining that upon the first onset they
should carry all before them. Otho also himself seems not to have shown
the proper fortitude in bearing up against the uncertainty, and, out of
effeminacy and want of use, had not patience for the calculations of
danger, and was so uneasy at the apprehension of it, that he shut his
eyes, and like one going to leap from a precipice, left everything to
fortune. This is the account Secundus the rhetorician, who was his
secretary, gave of the matter. But others would tell you that there
were many movements in both armies for acting in concert; and if it
were possible for them to agree, then they should proceed to choose one
of their most experienced officers that were present; if not, they
should convene the senate, and invest it with the power of election.
And it is not improbable that, neither of the emperors then bearing the
title having really any reputation, such purposes were really
entertained among the genuine, serviceable, and sober-minded part of
the soldiers. For what could be more odious and unreasonable than that
the evils which the Roman citizens had formerly thought it so
lamentable to inflict upon each other for the sake of a Sylla or a
Marius, a Caesar or a Pompey, should now be undergone anew, for the
object of letting the empire pay the expenses of the gluttony and
intemperance of Vitellius, or the looseness and effeminacy of Otho? It
is thought that Celsus, upon such reflections, protracted the time in
order to a possible accommodation; and that Otho pushed on things to an
extremity to prevent it.
He himself returned to Brixillum, which was another false step, both
because he withdrew from the combatants all the motives of respect and
desire to gain his favor, which his presence would have supplied, and
because he weakened the army by detaching some of his best and most
faithful troops for his horse and foot guards.
About the same time also happened a skirmish on the Po. As Caecina was
laying a bridge over it, Otho's men attacked him, and tried to prevent
it. And when they did not succeed, on their putting into their boats
torchwood with a quantity of sulphur and pitch, the wind on the river
suddenly caught their material that they had prepared against the
enemy, and blew it into a light. First came smoke, and then a clear
flame, and the men, getting into great confusion and jumping overboard,
upset the boats, and put themselves ludicrously at the mercy of their
enemies. Also the Germans attacked Otho's gladiators upon a small
island in the river, routed them, and killed a good many.
All which made the soldiers at Bedriacum full of anger, and eagerness
to be led to battle. So Proculus led them out of Bedriacum to a place
fifty furlongs off, where he pitched his camp so ignorantly and with
such a ridiculous want of foresight, that the soldiers suffered
extremely for want of water, though it was the spring time, and the
plains all around were full of running streams and rivers that never
dried up. The next day he proposed to attack the enemy, first making a
march of not less than a hundred furlongs; but to this Paulinus
objected, saying they ought to wait, and not immediately after a
journey engage men who would have been standing in their arms and
arranging themselves for battle at their leisure, whilst they were
making a long march with all their beasts of burden and their camp
followers to encumber them. As the generals were arguing about this
matter, a Numidian courier came from Otho with orders to lose no time,
but give battle. Accordingly they consented, and moved. As soon as
Caecina had notice, he was much surprised, and quitted his post on the
river to hasten to the camp. In the meantime, the men had armed
themselves mostly, and were receiving the word from Valens; so while
the legions took up their position, they sent out the best of their
horse in advance.
Otho's foremost troops, upon some groundless rumor, took up the notion
that the commanders on the other side would come over; and accordingly,
upon their first approach, they saluted them with the friendly title of
fellow-soldiers. But the others returned the compliment with anger and
disdainful words; which not only disheartened those that had given the
salutation, but excited suspicions of their fidelity amongst the others
on their side, who had not. This caused a confusion at the very first
onset. And nothing else that followed was done upon any plan; the
baggage-carriers, mingling up with the fighting men, created great
disorder and division, as well as the nature of the ground; the ditches
and pits in which were so many, that they were forced to break their
ranks to avoid and go round them, and so to fight without order and in
small parties. There were but two legions, one of Vitellius's, called
The Ravenous, and another of Otho's, called The Assistant, that got out
into the open outspread level and engaged in proper form, fighting, one
main body against the other, for some length of time. Otho's men were
strong and bold, but had never been in battle before; Vitellius's had
seen many wars, but were old and past their strength. So Otho's legion
charged boldly, drove back their opponents, and took the eagle, killing
pretty nearly every man in the first rank, till the others, full of
rage and shame, returned the charge, slew Orfidius, the commander of
the legion, and took several standards. Varus Alfenus, with his
Batavians, who are the natives of an island of the Rhine, and are
esteemed the best of the German horse, fell upon the gladiators, who
had a reputation both for valor and skill in fighting. Some few of
these did their duty, but the greatest part of them made towards the
river, and, falling in with some cohorts stationed there, were cut off.
But none behaved so ill as the praetorians, who, without ever so much
as meeting the enemy, ran away, broke through their own body that
stood, and put them into disorder. Notwithstanding this, many of Otho's
men routed those that were opposed to them, broke right into them, and
forced their way to the camp through the very middle of their
conquerors.
As for their commanders, neither Proculus nor Paulinus ventured to
reenter with the troops; they turned aside, and avoided the soldiers,
who had already charged the miscarriage upon their officers. Annius
Gallus received into the town and rallied the scattered parties, and
encouraged them with an assurance that the battle was a drawn one and
the victory had in many parts been theirs. Marius Celsus, collecting
the officers, urged the public interest; Otho himself, if he were a
brave man, would not, after such an expense of Roman blood, attempt
anything further; especially since even Cato and Scipio, though the
liberty of Rome was then at stake, had been accused of being too
prodigal of so many brave men's lives as were lost in Africa, rather
than submit to Caesar after the battle of Pharsalia had gone against
them. For though all persons are equally subject to the caprice of
fortune, yet all good men have one advantage she cannot deny, which is
this, to act reasonably under misfortunes.
This language was well accepted amongst the officers, who sounded the
private soldiers, and found them desirous of peace; and Titianus also
gave directions that envoys should be sent in order to a treaty. And
accordingly it was agreed that the conference should be between Celsus
and Gallus on one part, and Valens with Caecina on the other. As the
two first were upon their journey, they met some centurions, who told
them the troops were already in motion, marching for Bedriacum, but
that they themselves were deputed by their generals to carry proposals
for an accommodation. Celsus and Gallus expressed their approval, and
requested them to turn back and carry them to Caecina. However, Celsus,
upon his approach, was in danger from the vanguard, who happened to be
some of the horse that had suffered at the ambush. For as soon as they
saw him, they hallooed, and were coming down upon him; but the
centurions came forward to protect him, and the other officers crying
out and bidding them desist, Caecina came up to inform himself of the
tumult, which he quieted, and, giving a friendly greeting to Celsus,
took him in his company and proceeded towards Bedriacum. Titianus,
meantime, had repented of having sent the messengers; and placed those
of the soldiers who were more confident upon the walls once again,
bidding the others also go and support them. But when Caecina rode up
on his horse and held out his hand, no one did or said to the contrary;
those on the walls greeted his men with salutations, others opened the
gates and went out, and mingled freely with those they met; and instead
of acts of hostility, there was nothing but mutual shaking of hands and
congratulations, everyone taking the oaths and submitting to Vitellius.
This is the account which the most of those that were present at the
battle give of it, yet own that the disorder they were in, and the
absence of any unity of action would not give them leave to be certain
as to particulars. And when I myself traveled afterwards over the field
of battle, Mestrius Florus, a man of consular degree, one of those who
had been, not willingly, but by command, in attendance on Otho at the
time, pointed out to me an ancient temple, and told me, that as he went
that way after the battle, he observed a heap of bodies piled up there
to such a height, that those on the top of it touched the pinnacles of
the roof. How it came to be so, he could neither discover himself nor
learn from any other person; as indeed, he said, in civil wars it
generally happens that greater numbers are killed when an army is
routed, quarter not being given, because captives are of no advantage
to the conquerors; but why the carcasses should be heaped up after that
manner is not easy to determine.
Otho, at first, as it frequently happens, received some uncertain
rumors of the issue of the battle. But when some of the wounded that
returned from the field informed him rightly of it, it is not, indeed,
so much to be wondered at that his friends should bid him not give all
up as lost or let his courage sink; but the feeling shown by the
soldiers is something that exceeds all belief. There was not one of
them would either go over to the conqueror or show any disposition to
make terms for himself, as if their leader's cause was desperate; on
the contrary, they crowded his gates, called out to him with the title
of emperor, and as soon as he appeared, cried out and entreated him,
catching hold of his hand, and throwing themselves upon the ground, and
with all the moving language of tears and persuasion, besought him to
stand by them, not abandon them to their enemies, but employ in his
service their lives and persons, which would not cease to be his so
long as they had breath; so urgent was their zealous and universal
importunity. And one obscure and private soldier, after he had drawn
his sword, addressed himself to Otho: "By this, Caesar, judge our
fidelity; there is not a man amongst us but would strike thus to serve
you;" and so stabbed himself. Notwithstanding this, Otho stood serene
and unshaken, and, with a face full of constancy and composure, turned
himself about and looked at them, replying thus: "This day, my
fellow-soldiers, which gives me such proofs of your affection, is
preferable even to that on which you saluted me emperor; deny me not,
therefore, the yet higher satisfaction of laying down my life for the
preservation of so many brave men; in this, at least, let me be worthy
of the empire, that is, to die for it. I am of opinion the enemy has
neither gained an entire nor a decisive victory; I have advice that the
Moesian army is not many days' journey distant, on its march to the
Adriatic; Asia, Syria, and Egypt, and the legions that are serving
against the Jews, declare for us; the senate is also with us, and the
wives and children of our opponents are in our power; but alas, it is
not in defense of Italy against Hannibal or Pyrrhus or the Cimbri that
we fight; Romans combat here against Romans, and, whether we conquer or
are defeated, our country suffers and we commit a crime: victory, to
whichever it fall, is gained at her expense. Believe it many times
over, I can die with more honor than I can reign. For I cannot see at
all, how I should do any such great good to my country by gaining the
victory, as I shall by dying to establish peace and unanimity and to
save Italy from such another unhappy day."
As soon as he had done, he was resolute against all manner of argument
or persuasion, and taking leave of his friends and the senators that
were present, he bade them depart, and wrote to those that were absent,
and sent letters to the towns, that they might have every honor and
facility in their journey. Then he sent for Cocceius, his brother's
son, who was yet a boy, and bade him be in no apprehension of
Vitellius, whose mother and wife and family he had treated with the
same tenderness as his own; and also told him that this had been his
reason for delaying to adopt him, which he had meant to do, as his son;
he had desired that he might share his power, if he conquered, but not
be involved in his ruin, if he failed. "Take notice," he added, "my
boy, of these my last words, that you neither too negligently forget,
nor too zealously remember, that Caesar was your uncle." By and by he
heard a tumult amongst the soldiers at the door, who were treating the
senators with menaces for preparing to withdraw; upon which, out of
regard to their safety, he showed himself once more in public, but not
with a gentle aspect and in a persuading manner as before; on the
contrary, with a countenance that discovered indignation and authority,
he commanded such as were disorderly to leave the place, and was not
disobeyed.
It was now evening, and feeling thirsty, he drank some water, and then
took two daggers that belonged to him, and when he had carefully
examined their edges, he laid one of them down, and put the other in
his robe, under his arm, then called his servants, and distributed some
money amongst them, but not inconsiderately, nor like one too lavish of
what was not his own; for to some he gave more, to others less, all
strictly in moderation, and distinguishing every one's particular
merit. When this was done, he dismissed them, and passed the rest of
the night in so sound a sleep, that the officers of his bedchamber
heard him snore. In the morning, he called for one of his freedmen, who
had assisted him in arranging about the senators, and bade him bring
him an account if they were safe. Being informed they were all well and
wanted nothing, "Go then," said he, "and show yourself to the soldiers,
lest they should cut you to pieces for being accessory to my death." As
soon as he was gone, he held his sword upright under him with both his
hands, and falling upon it, expired with no more than one single groan,
to express his sense of the pang, or to inform those that waited
without. When his servants therefore raised their exclamations of
grief, the whole camp and city were at once filled with lamentation;
the soldiers immediately broke in at the doors with a loud cry, in
passionate distress, and accusing themselves that they had been so
negligent in looking after that life which was laid down to preserve
theirs. Nor would a man of them quit the body to secure his own safety
with the approaching enemy; but having raised a funeral pile, and
attired the body, they bore it thither, arrayed in their arms, those
among them greatly exulting, who succeeded in getting first under the
bier and becoming its bearers. Of the others, some threw themselves
down before the body and kissed his wound, others grasped his hand, and
others that were at a distance knelt down to do him obeisance. There
were some who, after putting their torches to the pile, slew
themselves, though they had not, so far as appeared, either any
particular obligations to the dead, or reason to apprehend ill usage
from the victor. Simply it would seem, no king, legal or illegal, had
ever been possessed with so extreme and vehement a passion to command
others, as was that of these men to obey Otho. Nor did their love of
him cease with his death; it survived and changed erelong into a mortal
hatred to his successor, as will be shown in its proper place.
They placed the remains of Otho in the earth, and raised over them a
monument which neither by its size nor the pomp of its inscription
might excite hostility. I myself have seen it, at Brixillum; a plain
structure, and the epitaph only this: To the memory of Marcus Otho. He
died in his thirty-eighth year, after a short reign of about three
months, his death being as much applauded as his life was censured; for
if he lived not better than Nero, he died more nobly. The soldiers were
displeased with Pollio, one of their two prefects, who bade them
immediately swear allegiance to Vitellius; and when they understood
that some of the senators were still upon the spot, they made no
opposition to the departure of the rest, but only disturbed the
tranquillity of Virginius Rufus with an offer of the government, and
moving in one body to his house in arms, they first entreated him, and
then demanded of him to accept of the empire, or at least to be their
mediator. But he, that refused to command them when conquerors, thought
it ridiculous to pretend to it now they were beat, and was unwilling to
go as their envoy to the Germans, whom in past time he had compelled to
do various things that they had not liked; and for these reasons he
slipped away through a private door. As soon as the soldiers perceived
this, they owned Vitellius, and so got their pardon, and served under
Caecina.
End of Etext Plutarch's Lives by Plutarch