Biographies & Memoirs

IX

RUBICON

When I look at Caesar with his carefully combed hair and watch him casually scratching his head with a single finger, I can’t imagine this man would ever do something as monstrous as destroying the Republic.

—CICERO

After eight long years, the war in Gaul was finally over. But as the ancient historian Tacitus was later to say, it was as if the Romans had created a desert and called it peace. Hundreds of towns had been destroyed, fields and forests were laid waste throughout the land, and hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children had been torn from their homes and sold into slavery throughout Rome’s vast empire. The number of Gaulish dead is hard to estimate, though Caesar’s own figure of over one million souls may not be far off the mark.

Caesar’s defense of his devastating actions was simple—instability in Gaul was a threat to Rome. The only way to guarantee security for the civilized people of the Mediterranean was to bring Gaul under complete Roman control and fortify the Rhine as a barrier against the Germanic tribes to the east. This argument, it must be noted, was supported by almost every Roman. People throughout the towns and farms of Italy were thrilled to live free from the danger of invasion by northern barbarians and shed no tears for Gauls or Germans. Even the optimates of the Senate, who deeply resented Caesar’s conquests in Gaul, did so only because of the power and riches they brought him personally. None of them ever suggested giving the land back to the Celts.

Justified or not, the Gallic war had enormous benefits both for the Roman state and for Caesar himself. Rome now controlled all the lands from the Rhine to the Atlantic—a rich new province over 3,000 miles in circumference. Even depleted and devastated, Gaul paid 10 million denarii in taxes each year into the treasury, a denarius being the average daily wage for a Roman worker. In time the province could pay much more.

Caesar’s personal wealth from the conquest of Gaul was so immense that he endowed magnificent temples from Spain to Asia, sent slaves and soldiers by the thousands to provincial kings throughout the Mediterranean, and loaned vast amounts of money to needy senators. He gathered so much Gaulish gold in tribute and booty that he sold it in Italy for half the usual price. But even more than treasure, Caesar’s most valuable asset from his campaign in Gaul was the army that now followed him. Caesar had never been able to win the hearts of the nobility. His power base was firmly set among the common people he had served as a magistrate and the soldiers he had recruited and fought along side in battles across Gaul. It was Caesar’s army—made up of no-nonsense, dependable, and absolutely loyal men he raised from the farms and small towns of Italy and the Province—that would determine his future.

The experience of leading an army in a distant war for eight years also shaped Caesar into someone very different from the senators of Rome. Almost all the leading men in Rome had served in the army at some point and many had led soldiers into battle, but none, with the possible exception of Pompey, had achieved the autonomy that Caesar gained in Gaul. Beyond the Alps he was a virtual king, unhampered by factions, politics, and courts. Caesar faced no tiresome checks and balances as a general in Gaul—his word was law. But now that the Gallic war was over Caesar was expected to reenter the contentious world of the Senate and play by the arcane rules of the Republic. With good cause many in Rome worried that civil war was fast approaching.

The chief predicament Caesar faced was that as soon as he lay down his military command and governorship he would lose immunity from prosecution guaranteed by his imperium and face endless lawsuits that would undoubtedly destroy his political career. Cato had, in fact, long been threatening, under oath, that Caesar would face prosecution in a court full of armed guards the moment he disbanded his army. Caesar thought he had solved the problem by a popular decree two years earlier, allowing him to retain control of his provinces until he was—he hoped—elected consul for 48 B.C. Such a seamless transition would maintain his immunity until he could gain the consulship and face down his optimate opponents from a position of power in Rome. But new legislation was threatening to strip him of his governorship and troops at an earlier date, while barring him from seeking the consulship in an absentee campaign. If this plan was carried out according to the optimates’ design, he would be buried under lawsuits the moment he crossed under the city walls to run for consul, making him ineligible to campaign for office. Cato and his supporters had devised the perfect trap for Caesar—if only they could make it work.

Unfortunately for the optimates, they had plenty of ill will toward Caesar but no military muscle to back it up. It was useless for them to fume and fuss against a man with an army at his back unless they had an even bigger force. This meant they had to deal with Pompey. With an ongoing governorship in Spain and plenty of troops available in Italy as well, Pompey’s army was the only force available that could stand up to Caesar. Although the optimates hated Pompey only slightly less than they hated Caesar, they were convinced the older general could be manipulated into opposing his younger rival to serve their own purposes. Once Caesar had been stripped of his troops and was facing criminal prosecution, they believed Pompey could be disposed of as well and the Republic returned to their capable hands.

Caesar spent the remainder of 51 B.C. in Gaul rewarding his faithful supporters and organizing the country as a proper Roman province. Those Gauls who had served him well were granted large estates of confiscated land and rich shares of the spoils of war. Some were even marked for eventual membership in the Roman Senate. Trustworthy Gaulish nobles from every town and tribe were given limited local authority and privileges to bind them to Rome. Soon, of their own free will, the nobles of Gaul were adopting Roman customs and employing Latin tutors for their children. The Romans could not countenance human sacrifice by the druids, but as in other provinces the locals were otherwise left alone to follow their ancestral religion as long as they paid their taxes and caused no trouble. Gaulish troops spread throughout the Mediterranean as a mainstay of the legions, just as Romans moved north into Gaul as merchants, landowners, and government administrators. Gauls who had thought of themselves only as Aedui, Helvetii, or Veneti kept their tribal affiliation for centuries to come, but in time came to see themselves first and foremost as Romans.

With Gaul settled, Caesar could now give Roman politics his full attention. Cato had tried and failed to gain the consulship for the next year, but the equally belligerent and capable optimate Marcus Marcellus was selected. He dedicated himself enthusiastically to Caesar’s downfall. Marcellus’s opposition should not have been surprising: Caesar had earlier tried to steal Marcellus’s wife—Caesar’s own grandniece Octavia—and present her as a bribe to Pompey after Julia’s death. Caesar, however, struck first with a surprisingly modern propaganda tool aimed at the Roman public. He had previously forwarded to the Senate annual reports of his Gaulish campaigns, as was customary, but now he quickly edited these dispatches into a an exciting memoir. The publication of hisGallic War made a huge splash on the Roman literary and political scene as no one had ever read such a compelling story written in clear and simple language. Thrilling battles against brave but inferior barbarians, exotic lands and gods, the triumph of the Roman spirit—it was a book guaranteed to excite the minds of Roman voters. The tone was seemingly objective, yet it was clear that the hero of the tale was Caesar, who had courageously saved Rome from the savage Gauls and Germans. The Roman populace loved it, while even Cicero praised the work as a masterpiece of lucid history.

Although the optimates could not produce exciting accounts of their glorious deeds to influence the Roman electorate, they had powerful weapons of their own. Marcellus cleverly countered that since Caesar had won such a magnificent and complete victory against the Gauls, it was no longer necessary for him to maintain his army. Caesar’s forces should be disbanded, he declared, and a new governor appointed so that Caesar could return home and campaign for consul as a private citizen. Marcellus also attacked Caesar’s power base in Italian Gaul by declaring that the residents of Caesar’s colony at Comum (modern Como) north of the Po were ineligible for Roman citizenship. He personally beat with rods a new senator from Comum who was present in Rome, telling the man that he should return home and show the marks to Caesar.

As the optimates well understood, granting citizenship to the inhabitants of Italy north of the Po was central to Caesar’s vision for the future of Rome. To Caesar it was a question of expanding the benefits of full membership in the Roman state to new territories that had proven their loyalty and worth. To be sure, it didn’t hurt that these new citizens were his clients and supporters, but to see his actions merely as short-term political gain belies his proven commitment to ending the cycle of senatorial exploitation of provincials.

Caesar managed to block the legislation of Marcellus by using well-paid tribunes to veto his proposals, but it was now clear to him that the optimates were declaring war not just on his actions but on his very dignity. For a man who had risen from the slums of the Subura to the heights of Roman power, it was more than his pride could stand. Caesar rightly or wrongly believed that his conquest of Gaul had earned him the rank of first man in Rome and so was not about to meekly submit to the Senate as Pompey had done when returning from his eastern campaign. More than once in these troubled months Caesar was heard to say:

Now that I am the greatest man in Rome, it will be more difficult to push me down to second place than it would be to push a second-rank man to the bottom.

Still, Caesar would not be provoked into open rebellion against the Senate.

The optimates continued to pressure Pompey to declare his opposition to Caesar, but the veteran general would not make a firm commitment to their cause. Yet he made clear that he would soon request the return of the legion he had loaned Caesar two years earlier and voiced his opinion that the Senate must be obeyed in all matters. The optimates, meanwhile, worked to portion out the provinces in the coming year so that Caesar would be deprived of his governorship and army before he could seek election as consul. When Pompey was asked what he would do if Caesar tried to keep his legions, he snapped back: “What do you think I would do if my son tried to beat me with a stick?” It was a reply that brought joy to the hearts of the optimates who believed Pompey was moving still closer to their side.

The Senate, however, was not simply divided into optimates and supporters of Caesar. Many, if not most, senators sought a middle ground that would avoid civil war. These moderates admired Caesar’s military accomplishments but remembered how he had overturned cherished traditions during his consularship. Now they feared that with more power than ever, he might shatter the very foundations of the Republic. On the other hand, they saw the optimates as reactionaries whose unreasonable devotion to the status quo was pushing Caesar and the populist movement into open rebellion. Might it be possible, the moderates wondered, to buy off either Pompey or Caesar with the promise of a new campaign against the Parthian Empire? Feelers went out to both sides, with Pompey taking a particular interest, but in the end the proposal only fanned the flames of dissension as neither camp was willing to allow the other such glory.

It was becoming clear to Caesar that his contest with the optimates might have to be settled with arms rather than diplomacy. It was a clash he earnestly wished to avoid, not just because he wanted peace, but because he would have few supporters among the Senate and would be greatly outnumbered by Pompey’s forces on the battlefield. However, if the rulers of Rome were determined to crush him he would fight back. In preparation for any military conflict he transferred thousands of soldiers from Gaul to northern Italy under the dubious rationale of protecting the Province from raids by Illyrian brigands. He dismissed no troops, but instead doubled their pay, made sure they were well fed, and gave each soldier a Gaulish slave. More ominously, he continued to stockpile weapons and recruit additional soldiers in spite of the war’s end.

Caesar continued his maneuvering on the political front by attempting to place his supporters among the Roman magistrates to serve the following year, in 50 B.C. He was successful in winning the tepid backing of the optimate consul-elect Lucius Aemilius Paullus with an enormous bribe of 9 million denarii. An old foe of Cataline, Paullus was desperately in need of funds to complete a showcase basilica in the Forum. But the other entering consul, Gaius Marcellus, a cousin of the previous year’s consul, would not be moved.

But by far the most important magistrate Caesar was able to buy that year was Gaius Scribonius Curio, one of the new plebeian tribunes. Curio moved in the same raucous and irreverent circle as Clodius, even marrying Clodius’s widow, Fulvia, after her husband was murdered. Recently, however, Curio had settled down to become a firm opponent of Caesar and the populists, like his father before him. But the young man had run up enormous debts with his prodigal lifestyle and by financing elaborate funeral games for his father, which included a two-stage wooden theater that could be converted into an amphitheater. Caesar now offered to cover his debts completely if Curio would change sides. The new tribune was only too happy to agree, soon revealing by his tenacity and political acumen that Caesar had made a very wise investment.

The spring of 50 B.C. began with bad news from the east. Caesar’s lifelong adversary, Bibulus, now serving as governor of Syria, was having difficulties holding back the Parthians from the Roman frontier. He asked the Senate for two additional legions, which they promptly granted, but the problem was where to find the troops on such short notice. Pompey magnanimously offered to send one of his own legions to Syria as long as Caesar did the same. This seemed perfectly fair, except that the legion Pompey designated to send was the one he had previously loaned to Caesar. This would mean a net loss of two legions for Caesar and none for Pompey. To the surprise of many, Caesar agreed to these terms even though the new deployments left him significantly weaker. This more than anything he had done so far impressed the moderates in the Senate that he was a reasonable man who wanted to avoid military conflict with Pompey. But to hedge his bets among soldiers he might have to face on the battlefield in the future, Caesar gave each departing legionary a substantial gift of money. As it turned out, the situation in Syria soon calmed down so that no additional troops were needed—but instead of returning one or both of the legions to Caesar, Gaius Marcellus insisted they remain in Italy under Pompey’s command. Caesar shrugged off the loss and quietly recruited new troops.

Throughout this period Caesar never neglected the personal side of politics in his effort to build support among the moderate senators. One example is his continued wooing of Cicero, who had been serving as governor in Cilicia in eastern Asia Minor. Cicero was not a military man by any stretch of the imagination, but during his time in the province he had managed several minor victories in skirmishes with Parthian cavalry scouts and troublesome mountain tribes. He was immensely proud of his achievements on the battlefield and asked the Senate if he might be granted a small triumph on his return to Rome. Many of the senators, including Cato, felt Cicero’s action did not merit a public parade, but Caesar ordered his supporters to push the bill through. After the petition was approved, Caesar wrote to Cicero congratulating him and pointing out that he, not Cato, had supported Cicero from the beginning.

Caesar was going to need every ally he could find in the political battle that began that March and raged for two months. Gaius Marcellus and the optimates now advocated sending new governors to replace Caesar immediately so that he would lose both his immunity from prosecution and his army. Caesar had been ready for this strike and had instructed his paid tribune, Curio, on the proper response. Curio rose from his bench in the Senate chamber and surprised everyone present by agreeing with the proposal of Marcellus—but then added that he would support the legislation only if Pompey also gave up his provinces and troops on the same day. The tribune argued that as undesirable as it was to have two well-armed generals threatening the land with civil war, it was worse to have only one. If Caesar surrendered his army, Pompey would be the only man in Italy with thousands of troops at his disposal. It would then be an exceedingly short step, he declared, for Pompey to turn from protector of the Republic to tyrant of Rome. The optimates objected, but the moderates among the senators saw good sense in Curio’s suggestion and applauded him warmly. Mutual disarmament was a risky strategy for Caesar as he would completely lose the military might he had so carefully built over the years, but he was betting that he could beat the optimates on a level playing field.

Debate raged week after week, but every time Gaius Marcellus proposed his bill anew Curio interposed his veto. On the other hand, whenever Curio put forward his compromise, the optimates blocked voting on the measure. Marcellus and his party next suggested a compromise—let Caesar keep his provinces and armies until November of that year. But Caesar knew this was meaningless since he would still be open to prosecution for over a year until he could take office as consul. Curio therefore rejected the offer outright and debate continued. Finally in May, Marcellus realized he lacked enough support among the moderates to push through his proposal and so he backed down. By willingness to compromise and stubborn determination, Caesar and Curio had won their battle with the optimates, at least for the moment.

Caesar turned fifty years old that July, but his vigor and drive were undiminished. He sponsored Mark Antony for the priestly office of augur, then maneuvered the election of Antony as a tribune of the plebs to succeed Curio as his spokesman in Rome. Caesar also returned to northern Italy that same summer to stage a whirlwind tour of the province, drumming up support for any coming conflict with the Senate. He knew that if he was to have any chance against Pompey and the optimates, he needed the full support and abundant manpower of the lands along the Po. This was Caesar’s first visit to Italy since the conclusion of the war in Gaul and he could not have been more pleased at his reception. The province Caesar had worked so hard to make equal with the rest of Italy spared no expense in welcoming the conquering hero. City gates and country roads were decorated with flowers as he rode by, children ran to greet him in every town square, and tables in the local marketplaces were overflowing with the best food for public banquets in his honor. Then after a warm handshake and kind word for all, Caesar quickly returned to his army in Gaul to make final preparations for the war he feared was coming.

Rumors flew throughout the autumn that Caesar and Pompey would soon drag all of Italy into a bloody struggle. Cicero, writing to his friend Atticus from Athens in October, reports that even there stories were spreading that Caesar was on the march from Gaul with four battle-hardened legions. At the same time, Pompey’s supporters spread stories that morale in Caesar’s legions was wretched and his soldiers yearned to be free of their rebellious master. Of course, neither report was true. Caesar was still in Gaul with his army, most of whom were quite ready to follow him through the gates of Hades if he gave the word.

But Pompey had plenty of reasons to take heart. He had just recovered from a serious illness in Naples and was heading back to Rome at last. The reception he received along the way rivaled that of Caesar’s recent welcome in northern Italy. Villagers feasted him every night and threw flowers along his way as they marched beside him. Pompey had always assumed that the common people supported him, but this popular outpouring during his journey convinced him that he was unbeatable. He now believed that recruiting soldiers to fight Caesar would be simple: “All I have to do is stamp my foot anywhere in Italy for infantry and cavalry to rise up from the ground.”

The clouds of war gathered rapidly as the winter of 50 B.C. drew nearer. Caesar continued to prepare his army to fight even as he worked furiously to avoid a conflict. Pompey and the optimates, however, were in no mood for concessions, especially after they scored a major coup against Caesar. Labienus, who had been Caesar’s most trusted and competent general throughout the long years of war in Gaul, now defected to the side of the optimates. Labienus believed Caesar didn’t stand a chance against Pompey, but Caesar’s cold response to the haughty pride of Labienus also played its part in his change of allegiance. Caesar had made Labienus a rich and famous man, so much so that Labienus soon came to believe that victory in Gaul was as much his doing as it was Caesar’s. The common origins of Labienus and Pompey in the rugged Italian region of Picentum together with careful cultivation by the optimates were enough to cinch the deal by December. Whatever the motives of Labienus, Pompey had now gained a lieutenant of tremendous military skill who was intimately familiar with Caesar’s strategy and tactics. For his part, Caesar accepted the loss graciously and forwarded to Labienus all the money and baggage he had left behind.

Cicero hurried back from Greece to Rome in a frantic effort to find a peaceful resolution to the conflict. He expressed the sentiments of most moderate politicians and almost all the Roman public when he wrote to Atticus in mid-December:

The current state of affairs terrifies me. Almost everyone I know prefers to give Caesar what he wants rather than plunge the state into civil war. Caesar is certainly impudent, but he’s really not asking for much.

Even though Cicero personally favored peace at any price, he believed his political future and the safety of the Republic would force him to support Pompey in the end. It was a position more of the moderates were taking as the crisis came to a head. They would still jump at any chance for a peaceful resolution between Caesar and Pompey, but if they were forced to take sides, they had to back law and order rather than revolution. For all they knew, Caesar would stage another populist bloodbath against the Senate as Cinna and Marius had done almost forty years earlier. If war came, most Romans with money or political power would reluctantly support the optimates against Caesar.

A chance at compromise came that December just before the new tribunes were to take office. With considerable skill, Curio finally succeeded in forcing the Senate to vote on his proposal that Caesar and Pompey dismiss their armies simultaneously. Gaius Marcellus and the optimates railed against this plan that would end their dreams of crushing Caesar once and for all, but in the end the senators overwhelmingly supported the measure with 370 votes in favor and only 22 against.

It seemed at the last moment that civil war had been averted by the overwhelming desire of the Senate for peace. But if the optimates couldn’t win fairly, they were quite willing to play dirty. After warning the senators that Caesar was on his way over the Alps with ten legions in spite of their foolish goodwill, Gaius Marcellus marched across the Forum to Pompey with optimate supporters trailing behind. When he met the general he granted him authority to defend the state and defeat Caesar by any means necessary. He was given command of the two legions originally meant for the war on Parthia with the promise of even more troops. That all this was totally illegal and contrary to the express will of the Senate did not stop Pompey from accepting.

Caesar had in fact returned to northern Italy from Gaul with only one legion and heard of the latest events in Rome almost as soon as they happened. He hoped to avoid conflict, but he was preparing to fight if necessary. All the pieces were in place for war by late December, when Caesar moved to Ravenna near the Rubicon, together with several thousand of his troops. He also secretly ordered two legions to begin marching from Gaul to Italy and for another three legions to stand ready in southern Gaul. Caesar believed he no longer had anything to lose since the Senate seemed dominated by the optimates and afraid to stand up to the newly empowered Pompey. In early January of 49 B.C., Caesar laid out his ultimatum to the Senate in a letter. He began by calmly explaining all that he had done for the Republic since he began his career many years before. He then repeated his offer to lay down his command at the same time as Pompey exactly as the Senate had previously voted. But, he warned, if his demands to keep his army until he could become consul were not met, he would uphold his personal honor by any means necessary.

Even moderate senators were shocked at the impudence of Caesar and considered his letter a declaration of war. Few believed he posed much of a military threat, but they were outraged at his disrespect for the Senate. After several days of heated debate, they declared Caesar an enemy of Rome. The spurious mandate Gaius Marcellus had given to Pompey just days before was now legally confirmed. The consuls then ordered Caesar’s supporters, including Mark Antony, to be removed from the Senate, but Antony jumped from his chair screaming that they were violating the ancient sanctity of a tribune. He called on the gods as witnesses to this indignity, predicting war, murder, and a dozen other calamities as they dragged him from the chamber. He then immediately left Rome with Curio to join Caesar at Ravenna.

In spite of the furor, Cicero labored over the next few days to calm tempers and negotiate some compromise before it was too late. The orator shuttled back and forth between the optimates and Caesar’s men seeking a formula that would satisfy all parties. Would Caesar consider dismissing some of his troops and leaving his provinces? Yes, they responded, as long as he could keep two legions he would at least withdraw from Gaul. Pompey rejected this proposal, but hesitated when Caesar’s representatives countered that their leader would be willing to keep just one legion and pull back to Illyricum. It seemed for a moment that an agreement could be reached, but Cato cried out that Pompey was a blundering fool if he accepted Caesar’s trickery. The talks collapsed and with them the last chance for peace.

On January 10, the news from Rome reached Caesar at Ravenna. He had hoped Cicero might be successful in changing Pompey’s mind, but had rightly feared that Cato and the optimates would never allow a compromise. Caesar realized that Pompey and the Senate would now gather their forces and march on him in northern Italy. It would take them time to organize their enormous army from across the Mediterranean world, but when they did it would be almost impossible to beat them. Caesar therefore chose to risk everything on what the optimates were least expecting—an invasion of Italy with his single legion. It was, as any Roman commander would have agreed, a hopelessly foolish move. But Caesar was gambling that the element of surprise, coupled with his legendary speed, would throw the Senate forces off balance and push Pompey to withdraw from Rome.

That same evening Caesar rode to the banks of the Rubicon River. He had deliberately spent the day going about his usual activities in Ravenna and dining with friends so that senatorial spies would have nothing unusual to report. He hesitated at the bank of the swollen stream, knowing there would be no turning back once he crossed the boundary of his province, but at last he plunged forward into civil war.

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