Book 5
When the report of Agrippa’s movement turned out to be false, Pompeius was troubled that he had lost the defiles,ἡσθεὶς τῶν στενῶν ἀφῃρημένος. The first of these words implies that Pompeius was delighted that he had lost the defiles. Both Candidus and Geslen took it to be an error for ἤσθετο (perceived). Schweighäuser suggested ἤχθετο (was troubled), and this change is approved by Mendelssohn. and he called to his assistance Tisienus with his army. Octavius sought to intercept Tisienus, but lost his way around Mount Myconium. He passed the night there without tents. There was a heavy rainfall, as often occurs in the autumn, and some of his armor-bearers held a Gallic shield over his head the whole night. Harsh mutterings and prolonged roars from Mount Etna were heard, accompanied by flames which lighted up the camp, so that the Germans sprang from their beds in fear. Others, who had heard what had been related of Mount Etna, would not have been surprised, in presence of these remarkable phenomena, if a torrent of fire had rolled upon them. After this Octavius ravaged the territory of the Abacaenians,The text says Palestenians, but Cluver gives reasons for considering this an error for Abacaenians. where Lepidus, who was foraging, met him, and they both encamped near Messana.
As there had been many skirmishes throughout Sicily, but no general engagement, Octavius sent Taurus to cut off Pompeius’ supplies by first capturing the towns that furnished them. Pompeius was so much inconvenienced by this that he decided to stake everything on a great battle. Since he feared the enemy’s infantry, but had confidence in his own ships, he sent and asked Octavius if he would allow the war to be decided by a naval engagement. Octavius, although he dreaded all naval encounters, which until now had turned out badly for him, considered it base to refuse, and, accordingly, accepted the challenge. A day was fixed by them, for which 300 ships were put in readiness on either side, provided with missiles of all kinds, with towers and whatever machines they could think of. Agrippa devised one called the harpago, a piece of wood five cubits long bound with iron and having rings at the extremities. To one of these rings was attached the harpago, an iron claw, to the other numerous ropes, which drew the harpago by machine power after it had been thrown by a catapult and had seized the enemy’s ships.
When the appointed day came the rival shouts of the oarsmen were first heard, accompanied by missiles thrown by machines and by hand, such as stones, firebrands, and arrows. Then the ships dashed against each other, some striking amidships, others on the prows, others on the beaks, where the blows are most effectual in discomposing the crew and rendering the vessel useless. Others broke the opposing line by sailing through it, at the same time discharging arrows and javelins; and the small boats picked up those who fell overboard. There was a struggle of soldiers while the sailors put forth their strength and the pilots their skill and their lung-power. The generals cheered their men, and all the machines were brought into requisition. The harpago achieved the greatest success. Thrown from a long distance upon the ships, as it could be by reason of its lightness, it clutched them, especially when the ropes pulled on it from behind. On account of the iron bands it could not be easily cut by the men whom it attacked, and those who tried to cut the ropes were prevented from reaching them by its length. As this apparatus had never been known before, the enemy had not provided themselves with scythe-mounted poles. One thing seemed advisable in this unexpected emergency, and that was, to back water and draw the ship away; but as the enemy did the same the force exerted by the men was equal on both sides, and the harpago did its work.
Accordingly, when the ships were drawn together, there was every kind of fighting, the men leaping upon each other’s decks. It was no longer easy to distinguish an enemy from a friend, as they used the same weapons for the most part, and nearly all spoke the Latin tongue, and the watchwords of each side were divulged to the other while they were mingled together. Hence arose many and divers frauds and lack of confidence on both sides on the part of those using the same watchword. They failed to recognize each other completely, and meanwhile the fighting and the sea were a confused medley of corpses, clashing arms, and crashing ships. They left nothing untried except fire. This they abstained from, after their first onset, because they were locked together. The foot-soldiers of each army on the land beheld this sea-fight with apprehension and eagerness, believing that their own hope of safety was bound up in it. They could not distinguish anything, however sharply they might look, but merely a long-drawn-out line of 600 ships, and an alternation of cries and groans now on one side and now on the other.
Judging from the colors of the towers, which constituted the only difference between them, Agrippa with difficulty made out that Pompeius’ ships had sustained the greater loss, and he cheered on those who were close to him as though they were already victors. Then he drove at the enemy and pressed upon them without ceasing, until he overpowered those nearest him. They then lowered their towers and turned their ships in flight toward the straits. Seventeen of them, which were in advance, made their escape thither. The rest were cut off by Agrippa and some were pursued and driven aground. The pursuers ran aground with them in the rush, and either pulled off those that had come to a standstill or set fire to them. When the Pompeian ships that were still fighting saw what had befallen these, they surrendered to their enemies. Then the soldiers of Octavius who were in the ships raised a shout of victory and those on the land gave an answering shout. Those of Pompeius groaned. Pompeius himself, darting away from Naulochi, hastened to Messana, giving no orders to his infantry in his panic. Accordingly Octavius received the surrender of Tisienus on terms agreed upon, and of the cavalry besides, who were surrendered by their officers. Three of Octavius’ ships were sunk in the fight. Pompeius lost twenty-eight in this way, and the remainder were burned, or captured, or run aground, and stove in pieces, except the seventeen that escaped.
Pompeius learned of the defection of his infantry while on the road, and changed his costume from that of a commander to that of a private citizen, and sent orders to Messana to put on shipboard everything possible. All preparations to this end had been made long before. He summoned Plennius from Lilybaeum in haste, with the eight legions he had, intending to take flight with them. Plennius hastened to comply with this order, but as other friends, garrisons, and soldiers were deserting, and the enemy’s fleet was moving into the straits, Pompeius did not wait for Plennius in his well-fortified city, but fled, with his seventeen ships, from Messana to Antony, whose mother he had saved in similar circumstances. After his departure Plennius arrived at Messana and occupied the place. Octavius himself remained in the camp at Naulochi, but he ordered Agrippa to lay siege to Messana, which the latter did, in conjunction with Lepidus. Plennius sent envoys to treat for peace. Agrippa wanted to wait till morning for the arrival of Octavius, but Lepidus granted terms, and, in order to conciliate the soldiers of Plennius to himself, allowed them to join the rest of the army in plundering the city. They had asked for nothing but safety, and now, finding unexpected gain in addition, they plundered Messana the whole night, in conjunction with the soldiers of Lepidus, and then ranged themselves under his standards.
Including this new accession, Lepidus now had twenty-two legions of infantry and a large body of cavalry. He was elated, and thought to make himself master of Sicily, using the pretext that he was the first to invade the island and that he had induced many cities to join the triumvirs. He sent word to the garrisons of these places that they should not admit the emissaries of Octavius, and he seized all the defiles. Octavius arrived on the following day, and reproached Lepidus through friends, who reminded him that he had come into Sicily as an ally of Octavius, not to acquire it for himself. Lepidus replied that he had been despoiled of his former allotment, which was now in the exclusive possession of Octavius, and that, if the latter pleased, he would now exchange Africa and Sicily for that former allotment. Octavius was exasperated. He came to Lepidus in anger and heaped reproaches on him for ingratitude. They separated, indulging in mutual threats. They forthwith surrounded themselves with guards, and the ships of Octavius were anchored away from the shore, as it was said that Lepidus intended to set fire to them.
The soldiers were angry at the thought of engaging in another civil war, and that there was never to be an end of sedition. They did not, however, seek to compare Octavius and Lepidus; not even the army of Lepidus did that. They admired the energy of Octavius, and.they were aware of the indolence of Lepidus. They also blamed him for admitting the defeated enemy to an equal share of the plunder. When Octavius learned their state of mind, he sent emissaries among them to advise them secretly of their individual interests. Many of them he tampered with, especially those who had served under Pompeius, who feared lest the terms of their capitulation should not be valid if Octavius did not ratify them. While Lepidus, by reason of his ineptitude, remained ignorant of these things Octavius came to his camp with a large body of horse, whom he left at the entrance, and himself went in with a few. Coming forward, he declared to those whom he met that he was drawn into war unwillingly. Those who saw him saluted him as imperator. First of all the Pompeians, who had been tampered with, collected together and asked his forgiveness. He said that he was astonished that persons asking forgiveness should not do what their own interests demanded. They understood his meaning, and forthwith seized their standards and went over to him, while others began to take down their tents.
When Lepidus became aware of this tumult he sprang from his tent to arms. Blows were exchanged and one of Octavius’ armor-bearers was killed. Octavius himself was struck by a weapon on his breastplate, but it did not penetrate the flesh, and he ran and took refuge with his horsemen. A detachment of guards belonging to Lepidus jeered at him as he ran. Octavius was so angry that he could not restrain himself from dashing upon them with his horsemenπρὶν ἐξελεῖν αὐτὸ σὺν τοῖς ἱππεῦσι. Nauck suggests ἐπελθεῖν for ἐξελειν. The latter word is meaningless here. and destroying them. The officers of the other guards transferred their allegiance from Lepidus to Octavius, some immediately, others during the night; some without solicitation, others pretending to be coerced more or less by the cavalry. There were some who still resisted the assault and beat off the assailants, for Lepidus sent reenforcements in all directions; but when these very reënforcements went over, the remainder of his army, even those who were yet well disposed toward him, changed their opinion. Again the first to move were those Pompeians who still remained with him. They transferred themselves by detachments, one after another. Lepidus armed others to prevent them from going, but the very ones who were armed for this purpose seized their standards and went over to Octavius with the rest. Lepidus threatened and besought them as they took their departure. He held fast to the standards, and said he would not give them up, until one of the standard-bearers said to him, Let go, or you are a dead man. Then he was afraid and let go.
The last to come over were the cavalry. They sent a messenger to Octavius to ask if they should kill Lepidus, who was no longer a commander. He replied in the negative. Thus was Lepidus deserted by all and bereft, in a moment of time, of so exalted a station and so great an army. He changed his costume and hastened to Octavius, all the spectators running with him to enjoy the spectacle. Octavius started up as he approached, and prevented him from throwing himself at his feet, and sent him to Rome in the garb of a private citizen, which he was wearing, deprived of his command, but not of the priesthood, which he held. And so this man, who had often been a commander and once a triumvir, who had appointed magistrates and had proscribed so many men of his own rank, passed his life as a private citizen, asking favors of some of the proscribed, who were magistrates at a later period.See iv. 50 supra.
Octavius neither pursued Pompeius nor allowed others to do so; either because he refrained from encroaching on Antony’s dominions, or because he preferred to wait and see what Antony would do to Pompeius and make that a pretext for a quarrel if he should do wrong (for they had long entertained the suspicion that ambition would bring them into mutual conflict when other rivals were out of the way), or, as Octavius said later, because Pompeius was not one of his father’s murderers. He now brought his forces together, and they amounted to forty-five legions of infantry, 25,000 horse, and some 40,000 light-armed troops. He also had 600 war-ships and an immense number of merchant vessels, which he sent back to their owners. To the soldiers he awarded the prizes of victory, paying a part down and promising the rest later. He distributed crowns and other honors to all, and granted pardon to the Pompeian leaders.
Fortune became jealous of his great prosperity.Ζήλου δὲ αὐτῷ γέμοντι ἐπὶ τούτοις, τὸ δαιμόνιον ἐνεμέσησε τοῦ ζήλου. Mendelssohn thinks that the words τοῦ ζήλου should be expunged. His army revolted, especially his own troops. They demanded to be discharged from the service and that rewards should be given them equal to those given to the men who fought at Philippi. Octavius knew that the present war had not been of the same grade as that one. He promised nevertheless to pay what their services were worth, and to include the soldiers serving under Antony when the latter should return. As to their breach of discipline, he reminded them, in a threatening tone, of the laws of their ancestors, of their oaths and of the punishments. As they gave little heed to what he said, he abandoned his threatening tone lest the spirit of mutiny should extend to his newly acquired troops, and said that he would discharge them at the proper time in conjunction with Antony. He said, also, that he would not engage them in any more civil wars, which had fortunately come to an end, but in war against the Illyrians and other barbarous tribes, who were disturbing the peace which had been gained with so much difficulty; from which war the soldiers would acquire great riches. They said that they would not go to war again until they had received the prizes and honors of the previous wars. He said that he would not postpone the honors. So he distributed many prizes, and gave to the legions additional crowns, and to the centurions and tribunes purple-bordered garments and the dignity of chief councillors in their native towns. While he was distributing other awards of this kind, the tribune Ofilius exclaimed that crowns and purple garments were playthings for boys, that the rewards for soldiers were lands and money. The multitude cried out, Well said; whereupon Octavius descended from the platform in anger. The soldiers gathered around the tribune, praising him and railing at those who did not join with them. Ofilius said that he alone would suffice to defend so just a cause, but after saying this he disappeared the following day, and it was never known what became of him.
The soldiers no longer dared to give utterance to their complaints singly, but they joined together in groups and called for their discharge in common. Octavius conciliated their leaders in various ways. He released those who had served at Philippi and Mutina, and who wished to be discharged, as their time had expired. These, to the number of 20,000, he dismissed and sent out of the island at once, lest they should seduce the others. To those only AUGUSTUS In the Braccio Nuovo, Vatican Museum, Rome
who had served at Mutina he added, that, although they were discharged in this way, he would fulfil the promises made to them at that time. He came before the rest of the army and called upon them to bear witness to the perjury of the revolters, who had been dismissed contrary to the wish of their military commander. He praised those who remained with him, and encouraged them to expect a speedy release, saying that nobody would be sorry, and that they would be discharged rich, and that he would give them 500 drachmas per man now. Having thus spoken, he exacted tribute from Sicily to the amount of 1600 talents, appointed propraetors for Africa and Sicily, and assigned a division of the army to each of these provinces. He sent back Antony’s ships to Tarentum. A part of the army he sent in advance of himself to Italy in ships, and took the remainder with him when he departed from the island.
When he arrived at Rome the Senate voted him unbounded honors, giving him the privilege of accepting all, or such as he chose. They and the people went out a long distance to meet him, wearing garlands on their heads, and escorted him, when he arrived, first to the temples, and then from the temples to his house. The next day he made speeches to the Senate and to the people, recounting his exploits and his policy from the beginning to the present time. These speeches he wrote down and distributed in pamphlet form. He proclaimed peace and good-will, said that the civil wars were ended, remitted the unpaid taxes, and released the farmers of the revenue and the holders of public leases from what they owed. Of the honors voted to him, he accepted an ovationπομπὴν; a procession inferior in splendor and magnitude to a triumph, the latter being awarded only for victories over foreign enemies. This ceremony was concluded with the sacrifice of a sheep (ovis), from which the word ovation is supposed to be derived. and annual solemnities on the days of his victories, and a golden image to be erected in the forum, with the garb he wore when he entered the city, to stand on a column surrounded by the beaks of captured ships. There the image was placed bearing the inscription: PEACE, LONG DISTURBED, HE REËSTABLISHED ON LAND AND SEA.
When the people desired to transfer from Lepidus to himself the office of pontifex maximus, which the law bestowed upon one person for life, he would not accept it, and when they prayed that Lepidus might be put to death as a public enemy he would not allow it. He sent sealed letters to all the armies, with instructions to open them all on a designated day and to execute the orders contained therein. These orders related to the slaves who had run away during the civil dissensions and joined the armies, for whom Pompeius had asked freedom, which the Senate and the treaty had granted. These were all arrested on the same day and brought to Rome, and Octavius returned them to their Roman or Italian masters, or to the heirs of the same. He also gave back those belonging to Sicilian masters. Those whom nobody claimed he caused to be put to death in the cities from which they had absconded.
This seemed to be the end of the civil dissensions. Octavius was now twenty-eight years of age. Cities joined in placing him among their tutelary gods. At this time Italy and Rome itself were openly infested with bands of robbers, whose doings were more like barefaced plunder than secret theft. Sabinus was chosen by Octavius to correct this disorder. He executed many of the captured brigands, and within one year brought about a condition of absolute security. At that time, they say, originated the custom and system of cohorts of night watchmen still in force. Octavius excited astonishment by having put an end to this evil with such unexampled rapidity. He allowed the yearly magistrates to administer public affairs, in many particulars, according to the customs of the fathers. He burned the writings which contained evidence concerning the civil strife, and said that he would abdicate entirely when Antony should return from the Parthian war, for he was persuaded that Antony, too, would be willing to lay down the government, the civil wars being at an end. Thereupon he was chosen tribune for life by acclamation, the people urging him, by the offer of this perpetual magistracy, to give up his former one.The true date of his election to the tribuneship, deduced from the testament of Augustus inscribed on the wall of the Augusteum at Ancyra, was B.C. 25, i.e., eleven years later than Appian makes it. This he accepted, and at the same time he wrote privately to Antony in reference to their government. Antony gave instructions to Bibulus, who was going away from him, to confer with Octavius. He sent governors to take charge of his provinces in like manner as Octavius had done, and he had thoughts of joining the latter in his expedition against the Illyrians.
Pompeius, fleeing from Sicily to Antony, stopped at the Lacinian promontory and robbed the rich temple of Juno of its gifts. He landed at Mitylene and spent some time at that place, where his father, when at war with Caesar, had bestowed him with his mother, when he was still a boy, and where his father had recovered him after his defeat. As Antony was now waging war in Media against the Medes and the Parthians, Pompeius decided to intrust himself to Antony on his return. When he heard that Antony had been worsted, and this result was confirmed by the reports, his hopes once more revived, and he fancied that he might succeed Antony if the latter were dead, or share his power if he returned. He was continually thinking of Labienus, who had overrun Asia not long before. While he was in this frame of mind the news reached him that Antony had returned to Alexandria. Scheming with both projects, he sent ambassadors to Antony ostensibly to place himself at the latter’s disposal and to offer himself as a friend and ally, but really to get accurate information about Antony’s affairs. At the same time he sent others secretly to the princes of Thrace and Pontus, intending, if he should not obtain what he desired from Antony, to take flight through Pontus to Armenia. He sent also to the Parthians, hoping that, for the remainder of their war against Antony, they would be eager to receive him as a general, because he was a Roman, and especially because he was the son of Pompey the Great. He refitted his ships and drilled the soldiers he had brought in them, pretending at one time that he was in fear of Octavius, and at another that he was getting ready to assist Antony.
As soon as Antony heard of the coming of Pompeius he designated Titius to take the field against him. He ordered the latter to take ships and soldiers from Syria and to wage war vigorously against Pompeius if he showed himself hostile, but to treat him with honor if he submitted himself to Antony. Then he gave audience to the ambassadors who had arrived, and who addressed him as follows: Pompeius has sent us to you, not because he was without a place of refuge (if he were minded to continue the war) in Spain, a country friendly to him on his father’s account and which espoused his own cause when he was younger, and even now calls upon him for that purpose, but because he prefers to enjoy peace with you, or, if need be, to fight under your orders. He makes these advances now not for the first time, but did so while he was master of Sicily and was ravaging Italy, and when he rescued your mother and sent her to you. If you had accepted these advances, Pompeius would not have been driven out of Sicily (for you would not have provided Octavius with ships against him), nor would you have been defeated in Parthia, in consequence of Octavius, not sending you the soldiers he agreed to send. In fact, you would now be in possession of Italy in addition to your other dominions. As you did not accept the offer at the time when it would have been most advantageous to you, he repeats it now in order that you may not be so often ensnared by Octavius’ words and by the marriage relationship existing between you; for you will remember that, although he is connected by marriage with Pompeius, he declared war against the latter after the treaty had been made, and without excuse. He also deprived Lepidus, his partner in the government, of his share, and divided no part of it with you.
You are now the only remaining one who stands between him and the monarchy that he longs for. He would already have been at blows with you, had not Pompeius stood in the way. Although you ought to have foreseen these things for yourself, Pompeius calls your attention to them out of good-will, because he prefers a candid and magnanimous man to a deceitful, treacherous, and artful one. He does not blame you for the gift of ships which you made to Octavius against him as a matter of necessity, in order to procure soldiers for the Parthian war in exchange, but he reminds you that those soldiers were not sent. In short, Pompeius delivers himself to you with the ships which he still has and his most faithful soldiers, who have not abandoned him even in his flight. If peace is maintained, it will be a great glory to you to have saved the son of Pompey the Great. In case of war, he will be a considerable help to your party in the conflict which is coming, unless, to be sure, it has already come.
When the ambassadors had thus spoken, Antony showed them the orders he had sent to Titius, and said that if Pompeius was truly in this frame of mind he should come in person under the escort of Titius. In the meantime, the messengers who had been sent by Pompeius to the Parthians were captured by Antony’s generals and brought to Alexandria. After Antony had examined each of them he summoned the ambassadors of Pompeius and showed the captives to them. They made excuses for Pompeius even then as a young man in a desperate plight, fearful lest Antony should not treat him kindly, and driven by necessity to make trial even of the bitterest enemies of Rome. They said that he would show his true disposition as soon as he should learn Antony’s, and would then need no other attempt or devices. Antony believed them, being in other respects and at all times of a frank, magnanimous, and unsuspecting nature. Y.R> 719
In the meantime Furnius, who was governing the province of Asia for Antony, had received Pompeius when he arrived, as he was behaving quietly; since Furnius had not sufficient force to prevent him and did not yet know Antony’s mind. Seeing Pompeius drilling his troops, he B.C. 35 mustered a force from the provincials and hastily summoned Ahenobarbus, who had command of an army in the vicinity, and also Amyntas from the other side. They responded promptly, and Pompeius complained against Furnius for regarding him in the light of an enemy when he had sent ambassadors to Antony and was waiting for an answer from him. While he was saying this he was meditating the project of seizing Ahenobarbus, with the connivance of Curius, one of Ahenobarbus’ officers, intending to hold that general as a valuable hostage to exchange for himself in case of need. The treachery was discovered and Curius was convicted before the Romans present and put to death. Pompeius put to death his freedman Theodorus, the only person who was privy to the plan, believing that he had divulged it. As he no longer expected to conceal his projects from Furnius, he possessed himself of Lampsacus by treachery, a city which contained many Italians, colonized there by Gaius Caesar. These Italians he induced to enter his military service by large bounties. Having now 200 horse and three legions of infantry, he attacked Cyzicus by land and sea. He was repulsed on both sides, because there was a force, although not a large one, in Cyzicus, that was guarding some gladiators whom Antony supported there. So Pompeius retired to the harbor of the Achaeans and collected provisions.
Furnius did not begin hostilities, but he continually camped alongside of Pompeius with a large body of horse and prevented his foe from foraging or winning the cities to his side. As Pompeius had no cavalry, he assaulted the camp of Furnius in front and, at the same time, sent a force secretly around to his rear. Furnius accordingly directed his forces against Pompeius’ front attack, but he was driven out of his camp by the force in his rear. Pompeius pursued his men and killed many as they fled over the Scamandrian plain, which was saturated with recent rains. Those who were saved withdrew to a place of safety, as they were not fit for battle. While they were waiting for assistance from Mysia, the Propontis, and elsewhere, the inhabitants, who were distressed by continual exactions, enlisted gladly under Pompeius, especially on account of the reputation he had gained by his victory at the harbor of the Achaeans. While Pompeius was deficient in cavalry, and was thus crippled in procuring supplies, he learned that a troop of Italian horse was coming to Antony, sent by Octavia, who was passing the winter in Athens. So he sent emissaries with gold to corrupt this troop, but Antony’s governor of Macedonia caught these men and distributed their gold to the cavalry.
Pompeius took Nicaea and Nicomedia, from which he obtained large supplies of money, and his strength was augmented in all respects with a rapidity that exceeded his expectations. But Furnius, who was camping not far away from him, was reënforced, at the beginning of spring, first with seventy ships that had come from Sicily, which had been saved from those that Antony had lent to Octavius against Pompeius; for after the close of the war in Sicily Octavius had dismissed them. Then Titius arrived from Syria with 120 additional ships and a large army; and all these had landed at Proconnesus. Pompeius became alarmed and burned his own ships and armed his oarsmen, believing that he could fight to better advantage with all of his forces combined on land. Cassius of Parma, Nasidius, Saturninus, Thermus, Antistius, and the other distinguished men of his party who were still with him as friends, and Fannius, who held the highest rank of all, and Pompeius’ father-in-law, Libo, when they saw that he did not desist from war against superior forces even after Titius, to whom Antony had given entire charge, had arrived, despaired of him, and, having made terms for themselves, went over to Antony.
Pompeius, now deserted by his friends, withdrew to the interior of Bithynia, being reported as making his way to Armenia. One night as he marched out of his camp quietly, Furnius and Titius followed him, and Amyntas joined in the pursuit. After a hot chase they came up with him toward evening, and each encamped by himself around a certain hill without ditch or palisade, as it was late and they were tired. While they were in this state, Pompeius made a night attack with 300 light troops and killed many who were still asleep or springing out of bed. The rest took to disgraceful flight in a state of nudity. It is evident that if Pompeius had made this night attack with his entire army, or if he had followed up energetically the victory he did win, he would have overcome them completely. But, misled by a god, he gave no heed to these opportunities, and he gained no other advantage from the affair than to penetrate farther into the interior of the country. His enemies, having formed a junction, followed him and cut off his supplies, until he was in danger from want. Then he sought an interview with Furnius, who had been a friend of Pompey the Great, and who was of higher rank and of a more trustworthy character than the others.
Taking a position where a river flowed between them, Pompeius said that he had sent ambassadors to Antony, and he added that, being in need of provisions meanwhile, and nobody supplying him, he had done what he had done. If you have fought against me, he continued, by Antony’s direction, Antony has misconceived his own interests in not foreseeing the coming war. If you are anticipating Antony’s intentions, I protest and implore you to wait for the embassy that I sent to Antony or to take and bring me to him now. I will surrender myself to you alone, Furnius, asking merely your pledge that you will conduct me to him in safety. He spoke thus because he had confidence in Antony as a man of generous nature, and he apprehended merely that something might happen to him on the journey. Furnius replied to him as follows: If you wished to surrender yourself to Antony you ought to have done so in the beginning, or else have waited quietly at Mitylene for his answer. But if you desired the war you should have done as you have done. Why is it necessary to recount your deeds to one who knows them? If now you repent, do not bring us, generals, into collision with each other, but surrender yourself to Titius, to whom these matters have been intrusted by Antony. The pledge which you ask from me you can ask from him. He has been ordered by Antony to put you to death if you wage war, but, if you surrender yourself, to send you to him in an honorable manner.
Pompeius was angry with Titius as an ingrate, in that he undertook to wage this war against him, for he had once been taken prisoner and spared by Pompeius. Besides being angry he considered it beneath his dignity to be in the power of Titius, who was not of noble birth. Moreover he suspected Titius, either because he was acquainted with his character and did not consider him trustworthy, or because he was conscious of some old injury done to him previous to the benefaction above mentioned. Again he offered to surrender himself to Furnius, and begged that he would receive him. When the latter refused he said that he would surrender to Amyntas. Furnius said that Amyntas would not receive him, because that would be an insult to the one whom Antony had intrusted with this whole business; and so the interview ended. The opinion prevailed in the camp of Furnius that, for want of other resources, Pompeius would deliver himself up to Titius on the following day. When night came Pompeius left the customary fires burning, and the trumpets giving the usual signal at intervals through the night, while he quietly withdrew from the camp with a well-prepared band, who had not been previously advised whither they were to go. He intended to go to the sea-shore and burn Titius’ fleet, and perhaps would have done so had not Scaurus deserted from him and communicated the fact of his departure and the road he had taken, although ignorant of his design. Amyntas, with 1500 horse, pursued Pompeius, who had no cavalry. When Amyntas drew near, Pompeius’ men passed over to him, some privately, others openly. Pompeius, being almost entirely deserted and afraid of his own men, surrendered himself to Amyntas without conditions, although he had scorned to surrender to Titius with conditions.
Thus was Sextus Pompeius captured. He was the last remaining son of Pompey the Great, and had been deprived of his father when very young and of his brother while still a stripling. After their death he concealed himself for a long time and practised robbery secretly in Spain until he had collected a large following, because he made himself known as Pompey’s son. Then he practised more open robbery. After the death of Gaius Caesar he carried on war vigorously and collected a large army, together with ships and money, took islands, became master of the western sea, brought famine upon Italy, and compelled his enemies to make peace on such terms as he chose. Of most importance was the aid that he rendered to the proscribed in Rome exposed to utter destruction, rescuing many of the nobility who were, at this later time, safe at home by means of him. But stricken with mental aberration, he never pursued an aggressive policy against his foes, although fortune offered him many opportunities; he only defended himself. After such a career Pompeius was taken prisoner.
Titius brought Pompeius’ soldiers into Antony’s service and put Pompeius himself to death at Miletus in the fortieth year of his age. This he did either on his own account, angry at some former insult, and ungrateful for the subsequent kindness, or in pursuance of Antony’s order. Some say that Plancus, not Antony, gave this order. They think that Plancus, while governing Syria, was authorized by letters to sign Antony’s name in cases of urgency and to use his seal. Others think that it was written by Plancus with Antony’s knowledge, but that the latter was ashamed to write it on account of the name Pompeius, and because Cleopatra was favorable to him on account of Pompey the Great. Still others think that Plancus, being cognizant of these facts, took it upon himself to give the order as a matter of precaution, lest Pompeius, with the coöperation of Cleopatra, should breed dissension between Antony and Octavius.φυλαξάμενον μὴ τὴν αἰτίαν Ἀντωνίου καὶ Καίσαρος ἐς ἀλλήλους διδῷ Πομπήϊος, καὶ Κλεοπάτρα Πομπηΐω συνεργοῦσα, ἀναθρέψαιεν. This sentence has given much trouble to commentators. Schweighäuser rejected the word διδῷ altogether.
After the death of Pompeius Antony made a new expedition to Armenia, and Octavius made one against the Illyrians, who were plundering Italy, some of whom had never been subject to the Romans, while others had revolted during the civil wars. Since these Illyrian affairs are not very well known to me, and are not of sufficient length to make a book by themselves, and have no suitable place to be treated elsewhere, I have recorded them above (beginning with the time when Illyria was acquired by the Romans and bringing them down to the end), and added them to the history of the neighboring Macedonia.