Book 4
Octavius and Antony, seeing that Brutus was not willing to fight, assembled their men, and Antony addressed them thus: Soldiers, I am sure that the enemy claim in their speeches a share of yesterday’s victory because they drove some of us and plundered our camp, but they will show by their action that it was wholly yours. I promise you that neither to-morrow nor on any subsequent day will they be willing to fight. It is the clearest proof of their defeat yesterday and of their lack of courage that, like those who have been vanquished in public games, they keep out of the arena. Surely they did not collect so numerous an army in order to pass their time in fortifications in the desert parts of Thrace. They built their fortifications when you were still approaching because they were afraid. Now that you have come they adhere to them because of yesterday’s defeat, on which account also the older and more experienced of their generals in utter despair committed suicide, and this act is itself the greatest proof of their disaster. Since, therefore, they do not accept our challenge and come down from the mountain, but trust to their rocky fastnesses instead of their arms, be valliant, O my soldiers of Rome, and force them to it again as you forced them yesterday. Let us consider it base to yield to those who are afraid of us, to keep our hands off such sluggards, or, soldiers as we are, to be unequal to the capture of their fortifications. We did not come hither to pass our lives in this plain, and if we delay we shall be in want of everything. If we are well advised we shall prosecute the war sharply, in order that peace may be of the longest duration possible.
We, who have not incurred your censure for the onset and the plan of yesterday’s battle, will devise fresh opportunities and means for this end. You, on the other hand, when you are asked, repay your generals with your valor. Nor will you be troubled, after a little, by yesterday’s plundering of our camp, for our wealth consists not in the property we hold, but in conquering with might, which will restore to us as victors not only what we lost yesterday, which is still safe in the enemy’s possession, but the enemy’s wealth in addition. And if we are in hasteκαὶ εἰ ἐπειγόμεθα. Nauck suggests εὐχόμεθα in place of the last word, so that it would read if we wish to take these things let us hasten to bring on a battle. to take these things let us hasten to bring on a battle. What we took from them yesterday balances what we lost, and perhaps more, for they brought with them all that they had extorted and plundered from Asia, while we, coming from our own country, left at home everything in the way of luxury, and brought with us only what was necessary. If there was anything lavish in our camp it was the property of your generals, who will gladly give it all to you as a reward for your victory. And as compensation for your losses we will give you an additional reward of 5000 drachmas for each soldier, five times as much to each centurion, and twice the latter sum to each tribune.
Having spoken thus, he led out his men again on the following day. As the enemy would not come down then, Antony was disgusted, but he continued to lead out his men daily. Brutus had a part of his army in line lest he should be compelled to fight; and with another part he guarded the road by which his supplies were conveyed. There was a hill very near the camp of Cassius, which it was difficult for an enemy to occupy because, by reason of its nearness, it was exposed to arrows from the camp. Nevertheless, Cassius had placed a guard on it, lest it should be forced unexpectedly. As it had been abandoned by Brutus, the army of Octavius occupied it by night with four legions and protected themselves with wickerwork and hides against the enemy’s bowmen. When this position was secured they transferred ten other legions a distance of more than five stades toward the sea. Four stades farther they placed two legions, in order to extend themselves in this manner quite to the sea, with a view of breaking through the enemy’s line either along the sea itself, or through the marsh, or in some other way, and to cut off their supplies. Brutus counteracted this movement by building fortified posts opposite their camps and in other ways.
The task of Octavius and Antony became pressing, hunger was already felt, and fear fell upon them more and more each day,ἔς τε μέγεθος καὶ δέος ἑκάστης ἡμέρας ἐπεγίγνετο: an obscure passage. The translation is in part conjecture. for Thessaly could no longer furnish sufficient supplies, nor could they hope for anything from the sea, which was commanded by the enemy everywhere. News of their recent disaster in the Adriatic having now reached both armies,Plutarch says expressly that Brutus was not aware of this disaster to his enemies; for, although a deserter from the camp of Octavius came to tell the news, he was not believed, and was not allowed to see Brutus at all. (Life of Brutus, 47.) it caused them fresh alarm, as also did the approach of winter while they were quartered in this muddy plain. Moved by these considerations they sent a legion of troops to Achaia to collect all the food they could find and send it to them in haste. As they could not rest under so great an impending danger, and as their other artifices were of no avail, they ceased offering battle in the plain and advanced with shouts to the enemy’s fortifications, and challenged Brutus to fight, reviling and scoffing at him, intending not so much to besiege him as by a mad rush to bring him to an engagement against his will.
Brutus adhered to his original intention, and all the more because he knew of the famine and of his own success in the Adriatic, and of the enemy’s desperation for want of supplies. He preferred to endure a siege, or anything else, rather than come to an engagement with men who were famishing, and whose hopes rested solely on fighting because they despaired of every other resource. His soldiers, however, without reflection, entertained a different opinion. They took it hard that they should be shut up, idle and cowardly, like women, within their fortifications. Their officers, although they approved of Brutus’ design, were vexed, thinking that in the present temper of the army they might overpower the enemy more quickly. Brutus himself was the cause of these murmurs, being of a gentle and kindly disposition toward all — not like Cassius, who was austere and imperious in every way, for which reason the army obeyed his orders promptly, not interfering with his authority, not inquiring the reasons for his orders, and not criticising them when they had learned them. But in the case of Brutus they expected nothing else than to share the command with him on account of his mildness of temper. Finally, the soldiers began openly to collect together in companies and groups and to ask each other, Why does our general put a stigma upon us? How have we offended lately — we who conquered the enemy and put him to flight; we who slaughtered those opposed to us and took their camp? Brutus took no notice of these murmurs, nor did he call an assembly, lest he should be forced from his position, contrary to his dignity, by the unreasoning multitude, and especially by the mercenaries, who, like fickle slaves seeking new masters, always rest their hopes of safety on desertion to the enemy.
His officers kept teasing and urging him to make use of the eagerness of the army now, which would speedily bring glorious results. If the battle should turn out adversely, they could fall back to their walls and put the same fortifications between themselves and the enemy. Brutus was especially vexed with these, for they were his officers, and he grieved that they, who were exposed to the same peril as himself, should capriciously side with the soldiers in preferring a quick and doubtful chance to a victory without danger; but, to the ruin of himself and them, he yielded, chiding them with these words, I seem to be carrying on war like Pompey the Great, not so much commanding as commanded. I think that Brutus restricted himself to these words in order to conceal his greatest fear, lest those of his soldiers who had formerly served under Caesar should become disaffected and desert to the enemy. This both himself and Cassius had apprehended from the beginning, and they had been careful not to give any excuse for such disaffection toward themselves.
So Brutus led out his army unwillingly and formed them in line of battle before his walls, ordering them not to advance very far from the hill so that they might have a safe retreat if necessary and a good position for hurling darts at the enemy. In each army the men exchanged exhortations with each other. There was great eagerness for battle, and unbounded confidence. On the one side was the fear of famine, on the other a well-deserved shame that they had constrained their general to fight when he still favored delay, and fear lest they should come short of their promises and prove weaker than their boastings, and expose themselves to the charge of rashness instead of winning praise for good counsel; because also Brutus, riding through the ranks on horseback, showed himself before them with a severe countenance and reminded them in a few words of what the opportunity offered. You want to fight, he said; you force me to battle when I am able to conquer otherwise.ὑμεῖς με ἑτέρως ἔχοντα νικᾶν ἐβιάσασθε. The Latin version of Candidus reads, You have forced me, who thought differently, and had victory in my grasp, to come to battle. Mendelssohn thinks that there is a lacuna in the existing text after the word ἑτέρως, which should be filled in accordance with the version of Candidus. Professor Wright suggests the rendering I have given above, which is clear and forceful without any change of the text. Do not falsify my hopes or your own. You have the advantage of the higher ground and everything safe in your rear. The enemy’s position is the one of peril because he lies between you and famine. With these words he passed on, the soldiers telling him to trust them and echoing his words with shouts of confidence.
Octavius and Antony rode through their own ranks shaking hands with those nearest them, and urging them in the most serious manner to do their duty, and not concealing the danger of famine, because they believed that that would be the greatest incitement to bravery. Soldiers, they said, we have found the enemy. We have before us those whom we sought to catch outside of their fortifications. Let none of you shame his own challenge or prove unequal to his own threat. Let no one prefer hunger, that unmanageable and distressing evil, to the walls and bodies of the enemy which they will yield to bravery, to the sword, to despair. Our situation at this moment is so pressing that nothing can be postponed till to-morrow, but this very day must decide for us either a complete victory or an honorable death. If we conquer we gain in one day and by one blow provisions, money, ships, and camps, and the prizes of victory offered by ourselves. Such will be the result if, from our first onset upon them, we are mindful of the necessity urging us on, and if, after breaking their ranks, we immediately cut them off from their gates and drive them upon the rocks or into the plain, so that the war may not spring up again or these enemies get away for another period of idleness — the only warriors who are so weak as to rest their hopes, not on fighting, but on declining to fight.
In this way Octavius and Antony roused the spirit of those with whom they came in contact. The emulation of the troops was excited to show themselves worthy of their commanders and also to escape the danger of famine, which had been greatly augmented by the naval disaster in the Adriatic. They preferred, if necessary, to suffer in battle, with the hope of success, rather than be wasted by an irresistible foe. Inspired by these thoughts, which each man exchanged with his nearest neighbor, the spirit of the two armies was wonderfully raised and both were filled with undaunted courage. They did not now remember that they were fellow-citizens of their enemies, but hurled threats at each other as though they had been enemies by birth and descent, so much did the anger of the moment extinguish reason and nature in them. Both sides divined equally that this day and this battle would decide the fate of Rome completely; and it did decide it.
The day was consumed in preparations till the ninth hour,The Roman day, from sunrise to sunset, was divided into twelve hours. The ninth hour was three o’clock in the afternoon. at which time two eagles fell upon each other and fought in the space between the armies, amid the profoundest silence. When the one on the side of Brutus took flight his enemies raised a great shout and battle was joined.Plutarch relates this and several other prodigies on the authority of Publius Volumnius, a philosopher, who was serving in the army under Brutus. One of these was of a very unusual kind. The arm of one of the centurions in Brutus’ camp sweated oil of roses; and although it was several times wiped and dried, it did not cease. (Life of Brutus, 48.) What this portended we are not informed. The onset was superb and terrible. They had little need of arrows, stones, or javelins, which are customary in war, for they did not resort to the usual manœuvres and tactics of battles, but, coming to close combat with naked swords, they slew and were slain, seeking to break each other’s ranks. On the one side it was a fight for self-preservation rather than victory; on the other for victory and for the satisfaction of the general who had been forced to fight against his will. The slaughter and the groans were terrible. The bodies of the fallen were carried back and others stepped into their places from the rear ranks. The generals flew hither and thither overlooking everything, exciting the men by their ardor, exhorting the toilers to toil on, and relieving those who were exhausted so that there was always fresh courage at the front. Finally, the soldiers of Octavius, either from fear of famine, or by the good fortune of Octavius himself (for the soldiers of Brutus were not blameworthy), pushed back the enemy’s line as though they were putting in motion a very heavy machine. The latter were driven back step by step, slowly at first and without loss of courage. Presently their ranks began to dissolve and they retreated more rapidly, and then the second and third ranks in the rear retreated with them, all mingled together in disorder, crowded by each other and by the enemy, who pressed upon them without ceasing until it became plainly a flight. The soldiers of Octavius, then especially mindful of the order they had received, seized the gates of the enemy’s fortification, but at great risk to themselves because they were exposed to missiles from above and in front, but they prevented a great many of the enemy from gaining entrance. These fled, some to the sea, and some through the river Zygactes to the mountains.
The enemy having been routed, the generals divided the remainder of the work between themselves, Octavius to capture those who should break out of the camp and to watch the main camp, while Antony was everywhere, and everywhere attacking, falling upon the fugitives and those who still held together, and upon their other camping-places, crushing all with vehement impetuosity. Fearing lest the leaders should escape him and collect another army, he despatched cavalry upon the roads and outlets of the field of battle to capture those who were trying to escape. These divided their work; some of them hurried up the mountain with Rhascus, the Thracian, who was sent with them on account of his knowledge of the roads. They surrounded the fortified positions and escarpments, hunted down the fugitives, and kept watch upon those inside. Others pursued Brutus himself. Lucilius seeing them rushing on furiously, surrendered himself, pretending to be Brutus, and asked them to take him to Antony instead of Octavius; for which reason chiefly he was believed to be Brutus trying to avoid his implacable enemy. When Antony heard that they were bringing him, he went to meet him, with a pause to reflect on the fortune, the dignity, and the virtue of the man, and thinking how he should receive Brutus. As he was approaching, Lucilius presented himself, and said with perfect boldness, You have not captured Brutus, nor will virtue ever be taken prisoner by vice. I deceived these men and so here I am. Antony, observing that the horse-men were ashamed of their mistake, consoled them, saying, The game you have caught for me is not worse, but better than you think — as much better as a friend is than an enemy. Then he committed Lucilius to the care of one of his friends, and later took him into his own service and employed him in a confidential capacity.
Brutus fled to the mountains with a considerable force, intending to return to his camp by night, or to move down to the sea. But since all the roads were encompassed by guards he passed the night under arms with all his party, and it is said that, looking up to the stars, he exclaimed: — Forget not, Zeus, the author of these ills.Ζεῦ, μὴ λάθοι σε τῶνδ’ ὃς ἀίτιος κακῶν. From the Medea of Euripides, 332.
referring to Antony. It is said that Antony himself repeated this saying at a later period in the midst of his own dangers, regretting that, when he might have associated himself with Cassius and Brutus, he had become the tool of Octavius. At the present time, however, Antony passed the night under arms with his outposts over against Brutus, fortifying himself with a breastwork of dead bodies and spoils collected together. Octavius toiled till midnight and then retired on account of his illness, leaving Norbanus to watch the enemy’s camp.
On the following day Brutus, seeing the enemy still lying in wait for him, and having less than four full legions, which had ascended the mountain with him, thought it best not to address himself to his troops, but to their officers, who were ashamed and repentant of their fault. To them he sent to put them to the test and to learn whether they were willing to break through the enemy’s lines and regain their own camp, which was still held by their troops who had been left there. These officers, though they had rushed to battle unadvisedly, had been of good courage for the most part, but now, misled by a god, gave to their general the undeserved answer that he should look out for himself, that they had tempted fortune many times, and that they would not throw away the last remaining hope of accommodation. Then Brutus said to his friends, I am no longer useful to my country if such is the temper of these men, and calling Strato, the Epirote, who was one of his friends, gave him the order to stab him. While Strato was still willing to deliberate, Brutus called one of his servants. Then Strato said, Your friend shall not come short of your servants in executing your last commands, if the decision is actually reached. With these words he thrust his sword into the side of Brutus, who did not shrink or turn away.Dion Cassius (xlvii. 49) says that before killing himself Brutus repeated the words of Hercules: Delusive virtue, thou art but a name. I cultivated thee as a reality, but thou art the slave of fortune. Florus (iv. 7) puts in the mouth of Brutus nearly the same words: Non in re, sed in verbo tantum esse virtutem. Brutus’ dying speech given by Plutarch is much longer, as well as more appropriate and dignified, and better entitled to credence.
So died Cassius and Brutus, two most noble and illustrious Romans, and of incomparable virtue, but for one crime. Although they belonged to the party of Pompey the Great, and had been the enemies, in peace and in war, of Gaius Caesar, he made them his friends, and from being friends he was treating them as sons. The Senate at all times had a peculiar attachment to them, and commiseration for them when they fell into misfortune. On account of those two it granted amnesty to all the assassins, and when they took flight it bestowed governorships on them in order that they should not be exiles; not that it was disregardful of Gaius Caesar or rejoiced at what had happened to him, for it admired his bravery and good fortune, gave him a public funeral at his death, ratified his acts, and had for a long time awarded the magistracies and governorships to his nominees, considering that nothing better could be devised than what he proposed. But its zeal for these two men and its solicitude for them brought it under suspicion of complicity in the assassination, — so much were those two held in honor by all. By the most illustrious of the exiles they were preferred to [Sextus] Pompeius, although he was nearer and not implacable to the triumvirs, while they were farther away and irreconcilable.
When it became necessary for them to take up arms, two whole years had not elapsed ere they had brought together upward of twenty legions of infantry and something like 20,000 cavalry, and 200 ships of war, with corresponding apparatus and a vast amount of money, some of it from willing and some from unwilling contributors. They carried on wars with many peoples and with cities and with men of the adverse faction successfully. They brought under their sway all the nations from Macedonia to the Euphrates. Those whom they had fought against they had brought into alliance with them and had found them most faithful. They had had the services of the independent kings and princes, and in some small measure even of the Parthians, who were enemies of the Romans; but they did not wait for them to come and take part in the decisive battle, lest this barbarous and hostile race should become accustomed to encounters with the Romans. Most extraordinary of all was the fact that the greater part of their army had been the soldiers of Gaius Caesar and wonderfully attached to him, yet they were won over by the very murderers of Caesar and followed them more faithfully against Caesar’s son than they had followed Antony, who was Caesar’s companion in arms and colleague; for not one of them deserted Brutus and Cassius even when they were vanquished, while some of them had abandoned Antony at Brundusium before the war began. The reason for their service, both under Pompey aforetime and now under Brutus and Cassius, was not their own interest, but the cause of democracy; a specious name indeed, but generally hurtful.ὑπὲρ δημοκρατίας, ὀνόματος εὐειδοῦς μὲν ἀλυσιτελοῦς δὲ ἀεί. The Latin version of Geslen rendered this passage nomen reipublicae, speciosum quidem sed non semper commodum (the name of the republic, specious indeed, but not always advantageous); and this led Schweighäuser to suggest doubtfully οὐ λυσιτελοῦς in place of ἀλυσιτελοῦς, in which case the meaning would be not always useful, instead of always hurtful. Plutarch says that government by the majority seemed to be no longer possible to the Romans, and that a monarchy was needed; and accordingly Providence, in order to remove the only man who stood in the way of the one who was able to govern (meaning Octavius), prevented Brutus from receiving the news of his victory in the Adriatic, etc. (Life of Brutus, 47.) Both of the leaders, when they thought they could no longer be useful to their country, alike despised their own lives. In that which related to their cares and labors Cassius gave his attention strictly to war, like a gladiator to his antagonist. Brutus, wherever he might be, wanted to see and hear everything because he was by nature a seeker after knowledge.
Against all these virtues and merits must be set down the crime against Caesar, which was not an ordinary or a small one, for it was committed unexpectedly against a friend, ungratefully against a benefactor who had spared them in war, and nefariously against the head of the state, in the senate-house, against a pontiff clothed in his sacred vestments, against a ruler without an equal, who was most useful above all other men to Rome and its empire. For these reasons Heaven was incensed against them and often forewarned them of their doom. When Cassius was performing a lustration for his army his lictor presented his garland wrong side up. A gilded statue of Victory dedicated to Cassius fell down. Many birds hovered over his camp, but uttered no sound,Dion Cassius (xlvii. 40) favors us with a long chapter, full of prodigies bearing upon the battles of Philippi. The prodigy of the birds is thus described: But that which especially indicated to Brutus and Cassius their ruin, so that it was plain to their adversaries, was the great number of vultures and other carrion-eating birds that soared above them only, and looked down at them screaming and squeaking in a fearful and awe-inspiring way. Florus (iv. 7) mentions the same phenomenon: Birds accustomed to feed on dead bodies flew around the camp as though it were already their own. and swarms of bees continually settled upon it. While Brutus was celebrating his birthday at Samos it is said that in the midst of the feast, although not a ready man with such quotations, he shouted out this verse without any apparent cause: — A cruel fate O’ertakes me, aided by Latona’s son.ἀλλά με μοἶρ’ ὀλοὴ καὶ Λητοῦς ἔκτανεν υἱός: the dying words of Patroclus.
Iliad, xvi. 849. Bryant’s translation.
Once when he was about to cross from Asia into Europe with his army, and while he was awake at night and the light was burning low, he beheld an apparition of extraordinary form standing near him, and when he boldly asked who of men or gods it might be, the spectre answered, I am thy evil genius, Brutus. I shall appear to thee again at Philippi.There is a noteworthy similarity of Greek words between Plutarch and Appian in relating the conversation between Brutus and the spectre, viz., Plutarch: Τίς ποτʼ ὤν, εἶπεν, ἀνθρώπων ἢ θεῶν ἢ τί βουλόμενος ἥκεις ὡς ἡμᾶς; Ὑποφθέγγεται δὲ αὐτῷ τὸ φάσμα, Ὁ σὸς, ὧ Βροῦτε, δαίμων κακός· ὄψει δέ με περὶ Φιλίππους. Appian: καὶ πυθέσθαι μὲν εὐθαρσῶς, ὅστις ἀνθρώπων ἢ θεῶν εἴη· τὸ δὲ φάσμα εἰπεῖν, Ὁ σὸς, ὦ Βροῦτε, δαίμων κακός· ὀφθήσομαι δέ σοι καὶ ἐν Φιλίπποις And it is said that it did appear to him before the last battle. When the soldiers were going out to the fight an Ethiopian met them in front of the gates, and as they considered this a bad omen they immediately cut him in pieces. It was due to divine interposition, no doubt, that Cassius gave way to despair without reason after a drawn battle, and that Brutus was forced from his policy of wise delay to an engagement with men who were pressed by hunger, while he himself had supplies in abundance and the command of the sea, so that his calamity proceeded rather from his own troops than from the enemy. Although they had participated in many engagements, they never received any hurt in battle, but both became the slayers of themselves, as they had been of Cae sar. Such was the punishment that overtook Cassius and Brutus.
Antony found the body of Brutus, wrapped it in his best purple garment, burned it, and sent the ashes to his mother, Servilia. Brutus’ army, when it learned of his death, sent envoys to Octavius and Antony and obtained pardon, and was divided between their armies. It consisted of about 14,000 men. Besides these a large number who were in garrisons surrendered. The garrisons themselves and the enemy’s camp were given to the soldiers of Octavius and Antony to be plundered. Of the distinguished men in Brutus’ camp some perished in the battles, others killed themselves as the two generals had done, others purposely continued fighting till death. Among these men of note were Lucius Cassius, a nephew of Cassius himself, and Cato, the son of Cato. The latter charged upon the enemy many times; then, when his men began to retreat, he threw off his helmet, either that he might be recognized, or be easily hit, or for both reasons.Plutarch says that the son of Cato refused to retreat or yield, but fought to the last, declaring who he was and pronouncing his father’s name, and finally fell on a heap of slain enemies. (Life of Brutus, 49.) Labeo, a man renowned for learning, father of the Labeo who is still celebrated as a jurisconsult, dug a trench in his tent the size of his body, gave orders to his slaves in reference to the remainder of his affairs, made such arrangements as he desired for his wife and children, and gave letters to his domestics to carry to them. Then, taking his most faithful slave by the right hand and whirling him around, as is the Roman custom in granting freedom,The legal form of manumission in Rome was to seize the slave by the hand, whirl him around once, and give him a slight push. The word manumission (sending by the hand) is supposed to have been derived from this ceremony. he handed him a sword as he turned, and presented his throat. And so his tent became his tomb.
Rhascus, the Thracian, brought many troops from the mountains. He asked and received as his reward the pardon of his brother, Rhascupolis, from which it was made plain that from the beginning these Thracians had not been at variance with each other, but that seeing two great and hostile armies coming into conflict near their territory, they took sides in the contest in such a way that the victor might save the vanquished. Portia, the wife of Brutus and sister of the younger Cato, when she learned that both had died in the manner described, although very strictly watched by domestics, seized some coals of fire that they were carrying, and swallowed them.This tale of the death of Portia from swallowing live coals was widely current in the ancient world, yet there is good reason for doubting it. Plutarch says that there was a letter of Brutus in circulation, speaking of the death of Portia, and accusing his friends of neglecting her in her last illness. (Life of Brutus, 53.) There is a letter from Cicero to Brutus extant, consoling the latter for the death of some one very near to him. As he speaks of the loss as one cui simile in terris nihil fuit (which has not its like upon earth), it could hardly have been anything else than that of a wife. (Ad Brutum, 9.) Of the members of the nobility who escaped to Thasos some took ship from thence, others committed themselves with the remains of the army to the judgment of Messala Corvinus and Lucius Bibulus, men of equal rank, to do for all what they should decide to do for themselves. These came to an arrangement with Antony and Octavius, whereby they delivered to Antony on his arrival at Thasos the money and arms, besides abundant supplies and a great quantity of war material, there in store.
Thus did Octavius and Antony by perilous daring and by two infantry engagements achieve a success, the like of which was never before known; for never before had such numerous and powerful Roman armies come in conflict with each other. These soldiers were not enlisted from the ordinary conscription, but were picked men. They were not new levies, but under long drill and arrayed against each other, not against foreign or barbarous races. Speaking the same language and using the same tactics, being of like discipline and power of endurance, they were for these reasons evenly matched. Nor was there ever such fury and daring in war as here, when citizens contended against citizens, families against families, and fellow-soldiers against each other. The proof of this is that, taking both battles into the account, the number of the slain among the victors appeared to be not less [than among the vanquished].
Thus the army of Antony and Octavius confirmed the prediction of their generals, passing in one day and by one blow from extreme danger of famine and fear of destruction to lavish wealth, absolute security, and glorious victory. That result came about which Antony and Octavius had predicted as they advanced into battle. Their form of government was decided by that day’s work chiefly, and they have not gone back to democracy yet. Nor was there any further need of similar contentions with each other, except the strife between Antony and Octavius not long afterward, which was the last that took place between Romans. The events that transpired after the death of Brutus, under Sextus Pompeius and the friends of Cassius and Brutus, who escaped with the very considerable remains of their extensive war material, were not to be compared to the former in daring or in the devotion of men, cities, and armies to their leaders; nor did any of the nobility, nor the Senate, nor the same glory, attend them as attended Brutus and Cassius.
Just before the arrival of the triumvirs Marcus Cicero left the city, considering it certain that he had no more chance of being saved from the vengeance of Antony than Brutus and Cassius had of escaping that of Octavius, — which was the fact. He fled first to his Tusculan villa and thence proceeded by cross-roads to that of Formiae in order to take ship at Caieta. There, after advancing several times seaward, he was driven back by adverse winds, and again he found himself unable to endure the tossing of the ship on the gloomy rolling waves, and he began at length to grow weary both of flight and of life. So he returned to his upper villa, which was a little more than a mile from the shore, saying, I will die in my fatherland that I have so often saved. It is well established that his slaves were ready to fight for him bravely and faithfully, but that he ordered them to put down the litter and endure with patience whatever an adverse fate should compel. As he leaned out of the litter and offered his neck unmoved, his head was cut off. Nor did this satisfy the senseless cruelty of the soldiers. They cut off his hands, also, for the offence of having written something against Antony. Thus the head was brought to Antony and placed by his order between the two hands on the rostra, where, often as consul, often as a consular, and, that very year against Antony, he had been heard with admiration of his eloquence, the like of which no other human voice ever uttered. The people, raising their eyes bedimmed with tears, could scarcely bear the sight of his dismembered parts. He lived sixty-three years, so that in the absence of violence his death could not have been considered premature. His genius served him well both in his works and in the rewards thereof. He enjoyed the favors of fortune for a long time, yet in the intervals of his protracted career of prosperity he suffered some severe blows, exile, the ruin of the party he had espoused, the death of his daughter, and his end so sad and bitter, none of which calamities did he bear as became a man except his death, which to one who weighs the matter impartially must seem the less undeserved, since he suffered nothing more cruel at the hands of his victorious enemy than he would himself have inflicted if fortune had put the same power in his hands.Both in letters and in public speeches Cicero declared that if he had had a part in the assassination of Caesar he would have put Antony to death also. Thus in the letter to Cassius (Ad Fan. xii. 3) he says: The fury of your friend [Antony] increases from day to day. For a first example, there is the statue which he has placed in the forum inscribed To the most worthy Father of his Country, whereby you are stigmatized not only as assassins, but even as parricides. You stigmatized, do I say? Rather myself, for this madman says that I was the leader in your most noble deed. Would that I had been! In that case he would not be troubling us now. In the second Philippic (7) he says that if Rome had the same kind of a leader now that she had in the time of the conspiracy of Catiline, Antony would share the fate of those conspirators. When Cicero wrote the second Philippic he knew that he took his life in his hand. Addressing, himself to Antony, he said: I defended the republic when I was young, I will not abandon it now that I am old. I despised the sword of Catiline, I will not quail before yours. I will offer my body freely if my death can bring back liberty to the state. . . . Death is even desirable to me, Conscript Fathers, after the honors I have gained and the deeds I have done. I ask for only these two things: first, that dying, I may leave the Roman people free; the immortal gods can grant me nothing that I desire more. The other is that the rewards of each man may be in proportion to what he has deserved of the republic. (Phil. ii. 46.) Yet if we weigh his virtues and his faults he must be pronounced a great, energetic, and ever memorable man, to fitly sound whose praises another Cicero would be needed. (Livy, cxx.) This judgment of the gravest of Roman historians is the one which the better part of mankind have ratified in all succeeding ages.
The glowing words of Velleius also deserve a place here; and these likewise have found their echo in all later generations, viz.: You have gained nothing, Mark Antony (for the indignation bursting from my mind and breast compels me to exceed the intended character of this work); you have gained nothing, I say, by paying the price for closing that celestial voice and cutting off that most noble head, and instigating, by a cruel reward, the death of a man who had once been so great a consul and the saviour of the republic. You deprived Marcus Cicero of a life of anxiety and a feeble old age, of an existence worse under your chieftainship than death under your triumvirate. But the fame and glory of his deeds and words you have not taken from him in the least, but rather augumented. He lives and will live in the memory of all ages. So long as this body of the natural universe, whether created by chance or by providence, or however constituted, which he almost alone of the Romans penetrated with his intellect, embraced with his genius, and illuminated with his eloquence, shall endure, it will bear the praise of Cicero as coeval with it. All posterity will admire what he wrote against you and execrate what you did against him, and sooner shall the human race perish from the earth than his fame decay. (Velleius, ii. 66.)
Valerius Maximus, under the heading of Ingratitude among the Romans, says: Cicero, at the instance of M. Caelius, with no less zeal than eloquence, defended C. Popilius Laena, a man of Picenum, and, though he had a doubtful case, returned him in safety to his home. This Popilius, of his own accord, although he had never afterward been harmed by Cicero by word or deed, asked Antony to send him to pursue and kill that illustrious proscript. When he had obtained this detestable commission he hastened with joy and gladness to Caieta and ordered that man who, not to mention his very great dignity, had certainly been Laena’s preserver, and was entitled to veneration for the zealous and distinguished service rendered in his private capacity, to lay bare his throat. Then, with absolute coolness, he cut off the head of Roman eloquence and the most renowned right hand of peace. Loaded with these, as with the honorable spoils of war, he returned gayly to the city. As he bore the infamous burden it never occurred to him that he was carrying the very head that once had pleaded eloquently for his own. Words are powerless to stigmatize this monster, since no other Cicero exists to deplore in fitting terms the misfortune that befell that one. (Val. Max., v. 3. 4.)
The following is Plutarch’s account of Cicero’s death. While these events were in progress Cicero was at his country place near Tusculum, and his brother was with him. When they heard of the proscription they decided to go down to Astura, Cicero’s place on the sea-coast, and sail thence to Macedonia to join Brutus, for it was already rumored that he had mastered those parts. They were conveyed, sorrow-stricken, in litters, and often stopped on the road, bringing their litters near together, and condoled with each other. Quintus was particularly disturbed as he remembered his needy condition. So he said that, as he had brought nothing from home, and as Cicero’s provision was also very scanty, it would be best for the latter to continue his flight, while Quintus should return home and provide himself with necessaries. After this was decided upon they embraced each other, wept, and went different ways. Quintus, not many days later, was betrayed by his servants to the pursuers, and was killed, together with his son. Cicero was conveyed to Astura, where he found a ship ready, in which he embarked and sailed as far as Circaeum with a favorable wind. The pilots wished to proceed from that place immediately, but Cicero, either fearing the sea, or not having lost all faith in Octavius, went ashore and travelled 100 stades by land toward Rome. Again he became anxious, changed his mind, and went back to the sea-shore at Astura. There he passed the night in great trouble and perplexity. He even contemplated going secretly to the house of Octavius and killing himself on his hearthstone, in order to bring divine vengeance upon him, but the fear of torture changed his purpose. Then, falling a prey to other perplexed and varying counsels, he allowed his servants to convey him by sea to Caieta, where he had a country place, an agreeable retreat in the summer season when the north winds blow fresh. There was a small temple on the sea-shore at this place, out of which crows flew in large numbers and with loud noise, to Cicero’s ship as it neared the land, and, alighting on either side of the yard-arm, some of them croaked and others pecked at the ends of the ropes. This seemed to all to be an ill omen. Nevertheless, Cicero disembarked and proceeded to his villa, where he went to bed to take a little rest. The crows alighted at the window, where they clamored tumultuously, and one of them flew down upon the bed where Cicero was covered up, and, little by little, drew the covering from his face with its beak. When the servants saw this they reproached themselves for remaining idle spectators of their master’s fate, and not rescuing him in his undeserved distress, while the brute creation was lending him aid. So, partly by entreaty, partly by force, they put him in the litter and carried him toward the sea-shore.
In the meantime the murderers were coming, under the command of the centurion Herennius and the military tribune Popilius, whom Cicero had once defended when he was prosecuted for killing his own father. Finding the doors closed, they broke them open, but they did not find Cicero, and those who were within said that they did not know where he was. It is said that a young man named Philologus, who had been educated by Cicero in the liberal arts and sciences, a freedman of his brother Quintus, told the tribune that they were carrying the litter through the bushy shaded walks toward the sea. The tribune took a few men and ran around to the exit of these paths. Herennius kept his course along the path, and when Cicero saw him he ordered the servants to put down the litter. Then, leaning his chin on his left hand as was his custom, he looked straight at the murderers. His haggard appearance and his unshaven face, wasted with anxiety, caused most of them to hide their own heads while Herennius murdered him. He was killed while holding his neck out of the litter, being then in the sixty-fourth year of his age. By Antony’s command his head was cut off and also the hands with which he wrote the Philippics, for he styled his orations against Antony the Philippics, and they are so called to this day. (Life of Cicero, 47-48). It thus appears from Plutarch’s account, as well as from Livy’s, that, if Cicero had really desired to escape, he had abundant opportunity. It was perhaps the intention of Octavius and Lepidus that he should do so.
5
Dion Cassius gives a very brief account of Cicero’s death, but adds some particulars about the indignities offered to his remains, viz.: When the head of Cicero was brought to the triumvirs (for he was captured and killed while fleeing), Antony heaped many bitter reproaches on it, and then ordered that it be put in a more conspicuous place than the others on the rostra, so that in the place where Cicero had been heard speaking against himself it might be seen, together with the right hand, as that also had been cut off. Before it was removed Fulvia took the head in her hands, and, after abusing it with bitter words and spitting on it, placed it on her knees, opened the mouth, drew out the tongue, and pierced it with pins that she used in dressing her hair, all the time heaping disgusting epithets upon it. (Dion, xlvii. 8.)