The states of Europe at this time were as follows. The
Roman empire comprised, besides Italy, Provence and
part of Dauphiné, the whole of Languedoc with Thoulouse,
and Spain with the exception of Biscay and Asturias,
although the more distant peoples there were
less under its sway. The war against Sertorius had
thus far completed the subjection of Spain: beyond
were the free Cantabrians, a numerous nation composed
of tribes which were quite independent of each other.
In Gaul, the Æduans had the ascendancy; yet most of
the peoples were without any bond of union, utterly
weak, and already overwhelmed by the German tribes.
Dalmatia and Illyria were subject to Rome; but her rule
did not reach far into the interior, and in the Bosnian
mountains the natives still kept their freedom. Macedon,
of which the extent was the same as it had been
under its last kings, and Greece were Roman provinces.
The inhabitants of Thrace, and the tribes north of
mounts Scodrus and Scardus, were free.
In Asia, the Bithynian monarchy had been broken
up, the last king, Nicomedes, having left his realms by
will to the Romans. Mithridates had in Western Asia,
Pontus and part of Cappadocia; and on the shores of
the Black Sea, his dominions were still wider: the north
2of Armenia, the country north of Erzerum, Georgia
(Iberia), Imeritia (Colchis), Daghestan, and also the
peoples south of the Cuban were tributary to him; the
Bosporus and the Greek towns in the Crimea were to
all intents and purposes provinces of his empire; his
influence was even felt as far as the Dniester, on the
banks of which his supremacy was acknowledged, and
his connexions moreover reached beyond the Danube
into Thrace, even to the Roman frontier. The kingdom
of the Seleucidæ had quite fallen to pieces, the disputes
about the succession, after the death of Demetrius, having
split the country into a number of small principalities
which carried on feuds against each other with great
fury: at last, Antiochus, a petty prince on the coast who
could hardly keep his ground, applies in vain for help to
the Romans. The other districts, longing for peace, are
glad to acknowledge Tigranes as their king, who rules
from the frontier of Erzerum as far as Cœle-Syria, over
Great Armenia, Mesopotamia, Northern Syria, Hyrcania,
Kurdistan, and part of Cilicia: his empire yielded
him very rich revenues. In the East, it bordered on the
Parthians, who possessed nearly the whole of modern Persia
and Babylonia; in Eastern Persia and part of Khorassan,
the kings of Bactria may at that time have been
still in existence, unless the Scythians had already conquered
these countries. Media also did not perhaps belong
to the Parthians even quite down to the breaking
out of Pompey’s war. Indeed their empire was very
loosely connected; the Parthian sovereigns were in the
full meaning of the word kings of kings, the provinces
being ruled by their once tributary kings. The towns
on the coasts of Phœnicia, and in Cœle-Syria and Judæa,
were free: the princes (tetrarchs) of Jerusalem,
of the race of the Maccabees, were independent, and
even bore the title of kings. In Cœle-Syria, numbers
of such tetrarchies had been formed.
Egypt under the Ptolemies was confined to its narrowest
bounds, from the river of Egypt to Elephantine;
3yet it was very rich. Its kings had still a yearly revenue
of 12,500 talents, as they were the sole owners
of the land. But the state was exceedingly weak and
disorganised, being under the most wretched and contemptible
government. In Asia Minor, the Romans
had of latter years acquired through P. Servilius Isauricus
Pisidia, Lycia, and Pamphylia: these countries
had until then been free; the first, since the war with
Antiochus; the two last, since the settlement of the
Rhodian affairs. Part of Cilicia was yet independent,
each place by itself: here were the real nests of pirates.
Cyprus was a dependency of the Ptolemies, but under
kings of its own.
In Africa, after the death of Jugurtha, there was
another king of the house of Masinissa on the throne
of Numidia. His name, however, is unknown: for the
inscription in Reinesius, which is said to have been in
existence in the sixteenth century, and in which Gauda
is mentioned, has not as yet been found again, and is
therefore very doubtful. In Sylla’s time, a Hiempsal
was lord of Numidia. The country was certainly confined
within much narrower limits than it had been
under Micipsa, and before the war with Jugurtha; but,
it was still a kingdom. The province of Africa was
governed by Roman proconsuls.
The Scordiscans and Tauriscans, those Gallic races
which had formerly been so harassed by those who had
sprung from the same stock with themselves, were
dwelling on the banks of the Danube; higher up were
the Boians, who were independent, and also the people
of Noricum which was already subject to the supremacy
of Rome. The German tribes can at that time
have scarcely dwelt farther south than the Mayne;
there was probably a line from that river and the
Neckar through the Odenwald and the Spessart towards
Thuringia. The boundary of the German nation in the
east cut deep into Poland.
Although the institutions of Sylla could not be overthrown
4by Lepidus, yet there were many of them, particularly
the transfer of the administration of justice to
the senate, so hateful from the shameful manner in
which they were worked, that even many of the well-meaning
among the ruling party abhorred them, and
openly declared themselves against them. The venality
of the courts of justice was quite glaring: we may learn
what their condition was from Cicero’s orations; it
was such that honest men were ashamed of the vile
abuse. To make the judges independent, was therefore
the great question of the day. But while it was wished
to wrest the jurisdiction from the grasp of the senate,
there was also, on the other hand, some reason to
beware of the knights; and therefore an expedient was
sought for, to keep that immense privilege from falling
entirely into their hands. In such times, the line of
demarcation between the different ranks is formed
only by landed or by moneyed property; as soon as
people want to generalize, there is no other standard
but this, although it is a thoroughly false one. Such a
classification then becomes unavoidable: Rome was on
this wrong road, as France is now. There was in that
age, and very likely there had been even as early as the
war of Hannibal, a census fixed for the senators; either
of 800,000 or 1,000,000 sesterces, being at any rate
more considerable than the minimum of the census
equestris. Now the Lex Judiciaria of Lucius Aurelius
Cotta (682) enacted that a number of senators, knights,
and tribuni ærarii, chosen it would seem by the tribes
from people of a lower census than that of the equestrian
order, should in about equal proportions constitute
the courts as a very numerous jury (Asconius on
Cicero).[1] This was a great improvement; the judges
indeed were still bad enough; yet they were after all
infinitely better than those taken from the senate.
Moreover Pompey during his consulship, with the
5acquiescence of Crassus, made another great change.
He restored the tribuneship to what it had been, so
that the tribunes might even again propose laws, it being
reserved to the augurs alone to interpose; besides
which, the tribunes were to be again allowed to get
curule offices when they had served their time, as had
been the custom before the days of Sylla. Pompey saw
that Sylla had made a blunder, and he wished to root
out the evil at once, without being aware that it was
only by going too far that the mischief had been done:
for it is ever the fault of men of moderate abilities when
in power, that they are always for running into extremes,
and keeping no bounds. But any essential reform
was in fact impossible, the tribuneship being a
monstrous nuisance which it was necessary to abate.
This happened during the consulship of Pompey in
the year 682; the further changes down to Cicero’s
consulship (689), I leave until then.
The war with Mithridates broke out almost instantly
after the death of Nicomedes, many provocations
having been given on the side of the Romans: its immediate
cause was the alliance of Mithridates with Sertorius.
He was completely armed for war, as far as
could be done by dint of money and great exertions.
The rock on which his enterprise was to split, was his
having Asiatics under him, he himself also being one;
for Mithridates has been overrated in history. Whatever
gold in masses could accomplish, he achieved; but
it was to little purpose that he was ever sending new
armies into the field, a thing which he was enabled to
do by spending vast sums: he knew neither how to
conduct a campaign nor to fight a battle. He overran
Paphlagonia, and burst into Bithynia and Cappadocia,
advancing as far as Chalcedon in Bithynia, into which
he drove the Roman consul Cotta. His fleet had decided
success; for he chased the Roman ships into the
harbour, and took them, The Romans had still (it was
then the year 678) the old soldiers of Valerius Flaccus,
6who had now been there for about thirteen years: these
men were quite demoralized, their ranks were thinned
by death, and their tempers soured by their having been
kept as it were in banishment. Mithridates therefore,
after taking Chalcedon and Heraclea, had the way before
him open to the most wealthy and powerful town
of Cyzicus, a place which maintained its fidelity to the
Romans with the same determination which it had already
displayed in former campaigns. He had posted
his troops on the island upon which part of the city is
built, being connected with the mainland only by a
dyke: from this island and from the sea, he battered the
town with all his engines. The people of Cyzicus, alone,
and without any help from the Romans, beat off all the
attacks of the enemy. In the meanwhile, Lucullus
came to Asia. He was a staunch partisan of Sylla, and
of melancholy importance in Roman history: more than
any other Roman, he transplanted the luxury of Asia
to Rome. He was distinguished as a general, and as
Cicero thinks so highly of him, he must certainly have
had some estimable qualities; but he cannot have gotten
his great wealth by fair means. Whilst Mithridates
was besieging Cyzicus, Lucullus took a very advantageous
position in Phrygia, on the Æsepus; and there,
by cutting off his supplies, he put Mithridates to such
straits that he was forced to raise the siege, after which
he was no longer able to keep his ground any where.
Mithridates indeed carried on the siege of Cyzicus too
long; yet he ought not to be blamed too harshly for it,
since the same thing has happened with generals of
higher name. All great generals have made blunders
in their turn, with perhaps the solitary exception of
the Duke of Wellington. But the king now at once
retreats, vanishes entirely from our sight, and is in the
heart of Pontus whither Lucullus follows him. Here
also Mithridates does not know how to defend himself
at all, or to make any sort of stand; nor even how to
impede the enemy when it was besieging the towns
7which, like Amisus, Sinope, and others, bravely held
out; nor yet how to relieve a place; but he lets himself
be driven out of his country, and throws him self into the
arms of Tigranes with whom he was allied by marriage.
All his great armaments, his hundreds of thousands of
hoplites were dispersed; all the most important towns
of Western Pontus, the truly favoured part of the land,
were conquered. Lucullus now followed him across the
mountains into Armenia, and besieged Tigranocerta
in the Arzanene, in the district of Erzerum. The Armenian
army was in the first battle scattered like chaff
before the wind, and Tigranocerta also was taken after
a somewhat better conducted siege, which, however,
did not last long. Tigranes fell back before Lucullus.
Gibbon very justly remarks, that under circumstances
which seem unfavourable, the character of a people will
sometimes strikingly change; but that sometimes it
will only change in some of its features, and not in
others. The Armenians behaved on this occasion, just
as cowardly as the troops of Xerxes had done against
the Greeks, and they had shown themselves the same
at the retreat of the ten thousand; but they afterwards
improved so much, that in the times of the Eastern Roman
Empire, until late in the middle ages, the Armenian
soldiers were among the very bravest, and formed
the flower of the Byzantine army. Armenia is a very
cold country, so that we can still less account for the
former cowardice of the nation, as Gibbon likewise remarks:
the Highlands of Armenia are much colder than
Germany; in the neighbourhood of Erzerum snow often
falls as early as towards the end of September, and quite
commonly in October. Yet it seems that other causes
exercised their influence. In after days, the Armenians,
since the spread of the Christian religion among them,
became very important allies to the Christian Emperors
against the Magians of Persia; and still later they distinguished
themselves by their enthusiasm for the Paulician
tenets. Lucullus went on as far as Mesopotamia,
8and took up his head-quarters at Nisibis, the Zobah of
the 2d book of Samuel[2] (in the Vulgate, the 2d book
of Kings), the seat of the Syrian kings in that country;
which from the times of Diocletian became the border
fortress of the Romans against Persia. Here Lucullus
seems chiefly to have employed his power as proconsul
for the purpose of enriching himself. At Nisibis, a mutiny
broke out among his soldiers, headed by his brother-in-law,
P. Clodius: (Lucullus had married one of his sisters.)
This outbreak originated with the Valerian
soldiers, who had obtained a promise at Rome, that
those who had served twenty years should have their
discharge. The actual period of service was in those
days more and more prolonged, whilst in the times of
the younger Scipio not more than six years of uninterrupted
military service were exacted: the Valerians
therefore had a very good right to demand their discharge.
Yet Lucullus would not part with them; perhaps
because he had not received the necessary reinforcements,
and was not able to let them go. Clodius
on this occasion played the mutineer, as he did during
the whole of his life. Lucullus, thus checked in his progress,
was obliged to retreat to Cappadocia: thither
Mithridates again broke in, and he routed C. Valerius
Triarius, and reconquered the greater part of Pontus.
An outcry had already been raised against Lucullus,
that he wanted to protract the war for the sake of enriching
himself; and now that the campaign was unfavourable,
he was compelled to yield the command to
Pompey.
Pompey, in the meanwhile, after the conclusion of
the war against Sertorius, had conducted that against
the pirates. These must have been a nuisance of long
standing; for the rough inhabitants of the coasts of
Cilicia had been sea-rovers for ages: even as early as
the Macedonian time, they are mentioned as such; so
9that they must already have had their strongholds
there. The coast of Cilicia was also very well suited
for this; for although there were some important and
thriving towns, like Tarsus, there, the people mostly
dwelt in small fortified places as at Maina. Formerly
this coast land had been subject to the Syrian rule; but
when the power of the Seleucidæ was broken up in the
year 630, Cilicia became independent, and many robbers
by land and by sea settled there, especially in Κιλικία
τραχεῖα. In the war of Mithridates, they were encouraged
by the latter to make prizes, and their daring was
beyond belief: Cicero in his oration de imperio Cn. Pompeii
(thus, and not de lege Manilia it is called in all the
MSS,) gives an idea of the extent of this pest. From
the coast of Syria to the pillars of Hercules, no man was
safe anywhere; all the seas were swarming with the
ships of the pirates. Those whom they took prisoners
they dragged into their fastnesses, obliging them to
ransom themselves; or else they sold them, or tortured
them to death and threw them into the sea. In Italy
itself, they sacked and conquered towns: they once even
landed at Ostia whence they carried off Romans of rank
who were walking about the shore, even prætors with
all the state attached to their office. Rome depended on
supplies from Sicily and other agricultural countries, and
as these were very often intercepted, the city was in constant
dread of a famine. Allied with the pirates were
the Cretans, who had, at all times, been robbers like them
by sea and land. The naval force of the Romans had
much decayed; whereas the pirates had a countless
number of boats, which, though small, were too strong
for a merchantman. Pompey now received the command
against this enemy, and this is the most brilliant
period of his life. The fame which he acquired on this
occasion is well earned: his plan of operations is quite
excellent. He surrounded them as with a net in a battue,
and hunted them out of the most distant spots;
then, more and more closely contracting his own fleet
10until he drove them to Cilicia, he overpowered them in
a battle, took their ships, and reduced their towns,
transferring the inhabitants to other places; partly into
larger Cilician towns and fruitful districts, where they
might gain their livelihood, and at the same time be
well watched; partly also into Greece, especially into
the neighbourhood of Dyme, into Achaia and the wasted
countries of the Peloponnesus.
This was a benefit to the world itself: for this Pompey
deserved the everlasting thanks of all who dwelt on
the coasts of the Mediterranean. Standing higher than
ever in public opinion, he was in consequence of this
popularity intrusted with the war against Mithridates.
Nor had the Romans ever reason to rue this decision,
though indeed they made victory much more easy for
him than it had been for Lucullus, as he received considerable
reinforcements. Mithridates lost in one battle
all that he had regained, without the Roman arms
having any great honour from it: he fled to Colchis,
and from thence along the roots of mount Caucasus to
the Bosporus. Pompey followed close at his heels, by
what is now Erzerum, as far as Georgia and the neighbourhood
of Tiflis, and the princes of that country did
homage to Rome: one of the sons of Mithridates, named
Machares, who held the kingdom of Bosporus as a
fief, made a separate peace with the Romans; but when
he heard that his father was approaching, he laid hands
on his own life. Mithridates, who in his misfortunes,
with eastern fury, freely vented his passions upon those
around him, now became an object of hatred; his servants
and children (of whom he had very many) trembled
before him. Moreover, he had formed boundless
plans: having still a great deal of money, he now conceived
the vast design of going to Italy; and he wanted
to stir up the Bastarnæ and other peoples on the banks
of the Danube, to league themselves with him. When
his soldiers heard of this, they could not but remark,
that as yet none of his undertakings had been successful;
11and so they broke out into a mutiny at Panticapæum,
being joined by Pharnaces the king’s son. The
outbreak displayed all the dreadful features of an eastern
insurrection; and therefore Mithridates put an end to
his own life, thinking perhaps that his son would not
rest until he knew his father to be dead. Pharnaces
now made peace with Pompey, and he was not ashamed
to send him his father’s body: Pompey, however, had
it buried with kingly pomp. Pharnaces got the kingdom
of the Bosporus and the neighbouring lands, as
well as the country of the Cubanians; and this he kept
until the later times of Cæsar: when, however, he ventured
to mix himself up with the civil wars (se inserere
armis Romanis as Tacitus expresses it), he met with
his ruin. Pompey now turned his arms against Tigranes,
who was glad to obtain a shameful peace by paying
a large sum of money, and by giving up all his possessions
with the exception of Armenia: even of this he
had to yield a part to a rebellious son, but it soon came
back to him. Syria he had to renounce altogether: it
was reduced in formam provinciæ Romanæ. Pompey
went as far as Egypt, and made himself master of Syria
and Phœnicia: one of his generals even reached the
country of the Nabathæan Arabs, where he received the
homage of the Arab king Haret. In Judæa, Hyrcanus
and Aristobulus were contending for the throne: Pompey
declared for the former. Aristobulus was made prisoner,
and led a captive in his triumph; the town of
Jerusalem fell into the power of the Romans; the temple
was held against them for nearly three months, and
then it was taken and pillaged, but not destroyed.
The death of Mithridates happened in the year of
Cicero’s consulship, the conquest of Syria in the following
one: it is not certain whether Pompey’s triumph
was at the end of the year 690, or in the beginning of
691. Pompey’s behaviour after the conclusion of the
war was praiseworthy. He showed an animus civilis,
and dismissed the whole of his army: he might have
12tried to do just what Sylla did, and made himself the
tyrant of the republic. Of the extravagantly flattering
honours bestowed upon him, he only once took advantage,
and that was at the Circensian games. Thus far
he behaved sensibly enough; but in other respects, his
conduct in peace was soon such as to belie the name of
Magnus, which had been conferred upon him by Sylla
in war. His triumph was magnificent: among the trophies,
there was a list of the tributes which the commonwealth
had gained from the conquered countries.
The numbers of these, however, as given in Plutarch,
seem to me rather too small than too great: if we bear
in mind the immense land-taxes which in the time of
the Maccabees came in from Judæa and other districts
in Syria, we cannot believe that these numbers can have
been correct. It is true that the amount of the new
revenue was larger than the sum total of all that had
been levied until then; but it is also to be taken into
account, that Syria was one of the finest and richest
countries in the world.
CATILINE; CICERO.
We now come to Catiline, who, as an English writer
says of Cromwell, is “damned to everlasting fame;” a
saying which is far more applicable to him, as even
Cromwell was an angel when compared with Catiline.
In Italian tales (in Malespini, for instance), he is so
much the hero of crime, and become such a popular
character, that the vulgar corruption of his name, which
indeed is but a slight one (Catellina), has found its way
into the Latin manuscripts. I refer you for his history
to Sallust, who has written it with great truthfulness,
giving every one his due, and doing full justice even to
Cicero, without heeding the silly gossip of the people.
He was himself, at that time, already a young man and
13capable of observation; and he also became very soon
afterwards acquainted with the first men, such as Cæsar
and Crassus.
Catiline, according to Cicero and Sallust, was indeed
an extraordinary being, endowed with all the qualities of
a great man in such times: he was of unequalled bravery
and daring, and of giant strength of body and mind; yet
so thoroughly Satanic a creature, that his like is hardly
to be found in history, even though his oath, in taking
which he drank the blood of a child mixed with wine,
and caused his conspirators to do the same, may be but
an idle tale. He had been a soldier of Sylla, and had
greatly distinguished himself in his days: he therefore
found himself in the same condition as the Terroristes
and the Septembriseurs were under the consulship, after
the eighteenth of Brumaire. After terrible civil wars,
there remains for many persons who have allowed themselves
the greatest excesses, nothing but to return to
bloodshed, even though they have nothing particular to
gain by it. It is altogether a doubtful question, and
one concerning which I have not been able to form any
positive opinion, what Catiline had in view. If we suppose
that he had a definite purpose, to attain which his
crimes were only as means, his object cannot be made
out; but if crime itself was his object, then we may
understand his character. We have only to represent
to ourselves clearly the utter demoralization of that
age: the anarchy of Athens which is so much spoken
of, was nothing in comparison to that of Rome; it had
settled down into forms of its own, and Athens was but
a small state. But in Rome there were some hundreds,
or at most some thousands of men, who were the masters
of the world: these were divided among themselves,
recognising no law, no order, and striving by hook or
by crook to get their own ends, whilst the republic was
a mere name and no one paid any regard to the existing
laws. There were, for instance, heavy penalties denounced
against bribery at elections, which moreover
14had often been re-enacted and increased; and yet every
body knew that, except in extraordinary cases, as in
that of Cicero, no one could be consul at Rome unless
he spent huge sums. The Romani rustici had no weight
whatever: besides the men of rank, the rabble alone
had still some importance left; and it was employed by
the leading citizens to fight their battles against each
other. In such times, even a man like Catiline might
in the eyes of very ambitious people seem to be a useful
tool; and the accusation against Crassus, a man of
most middling abilities, that he wanted to use him for
his own ends, is to me not at all unlikely, although
Catiline, had he been successful, would have certainly
trampled him under his feet. If Catiline had any object
at all, it was perhaps to become a second Sylla, a
perpetual dictator with absolute power; and then he
would not have troubled himself for anything more.
Two years before Cicero’s consulship, he had already intended
to murder those who were consuls at that time,
and to make himself master of the republic. We know
him in his most brilliant light from Cicero himself, the
very man whom he hated above all others: for he says
of him, that he had a magic power by which he fascinated
and enslaved all who came near him; that it
was not uncommon for young people, having been attracted
by his gigantic qualities, to attach themselves
to him; and that whoever had once been within his
reach, had never been able to get out of his clutches.
Cicero himself had defended Catiline before a court of
justice. Catiline had been an officer of high rank under
Sylla, and afterwards prætor, and an action (repetundarum)
was brought against him from which he had a
very narrow escape: it may have been on this occasion
that Cicero was his advocate. On the whole, people
had their eyes upon him, and his designs were dreaded,
though no one had the courage to face him: it was believed
that he would burn and pillage, if he once got
into power. The most opposite characters, even many
15of Sylla’s partisans, were convinced that they, just as
well as any one else, would fall his victims.
Cicero now stood for the consulship. Yet though his
integrity and his transcendent talents commanded general
esteem, his prospects were but poor. With the
people indeed, he was a great favourite; but the men of
rank opposed him as a homo novus; prætor he had been
already. The well-grounded news, however, that Catiline
and the conspirators meant to murder the candidates
for the consulship, and the belief that there was
no preventing the election of C. Antonius, an uncle of the
triumvir, who was greatly suspected of a connexion
with Catiline, induced the nobles to declare for Cicero.
Thus he became consul in the year 698.
Cicero was born on the 3rd of January, in the year
647 according to Cato (649, according to Varro, which
is easier to remember, as it reminds one of the year of
Goethe’s birth);[3] he was a native of the municipal
town of Arpinum, from which Marius also had come.
Arpinum was by no means a small place; on the contrary,
for a provincial town in the interior of the country,
it was very large and important, and it was also
one of those which are called the Cyclopian towns: now
indeed it is only a poor place. All the men of Arpinum
undoubtedly were proud of Marius, an impression which
Cicero had shared from a youth, especially as there was
some kind of relationship between his family and that
of Marius. His own family was very respectable; in a
petty feud in his town, his grandfather was on the side
of the optimates. His father and grandfather were acquainted
with the first families in Rome, and indeed
with the enemies of Marius, with Scævola and others of
the aristocratical party; so that the discord which runs
through the whole life of Cicero, takes its beginning
even then. To Marius Gratidianus he was also akin.
Of Cicero’s youth, we only know that he very early
16showed activity of: intellect, and soon began to write.
His first tastes were poetical, the first things he wrote
being poems in the old Roman form: (his “Pontius
Glaucus” was written versibus longis.) In his poetry,
he had all his life long the old Roman tinge, whereas his
prose was altogether ahead of that of his age. What
the first teaching then given in the schools was, one
cannot quite tell: thus much only is certain, that instruction
in the Greek literature and language was one
of the earliest subjects in which youthful minds were
trained; just as in Germany, in my time, children had first
to learn French. Cicero came to Rome shortly before
the outbreak of the Italian war, in his fourteenth or
fifteenth year; the reason why his father sent him to
Rome, was perhaps because Arpinum lay on the borders
of the Italians. At Rome, he was much with Greek
philosophers and rhetoricians, and with the most distinguished
men of the republic: he was like one of the
family in the house of both the Scævolas, and was connected
with Crassus and others. He came in a time of
the greatest excitement, which is one of the lucky circumstances
of his life. It is very doubtful whether he was
what we would call aide de camp to Sylla: he does not
mention the fact himself; at any rate, it can only have
been for a short time, and this military career of his had
no influence upon the rest of his life, as his was anything
but a warlike mind. He also studied civil law
with the great lawyer Scævola: young men would get
leave to be present in the Atrium of a jurisconsult, to
listen to the legal decisions and advice which he gave
there; just as in England one still learns the law to
this day, and as was formerly done in France, a way of
studying which is of infinite advantage for able minds.
Although Cicero has been reproached with not having
a systematic knowledge of the law, it was not an empty
word of his when he said, “If I wished to get up the
law, it would cost me only a few months;” for he knew
an endless number of cases in point.
17If we compare Cicero’s veneration for his high born
patrons, with his affection for P. Sulpicius, whose political
views were diametrically opposed to those of his
older friends, we are somewhat startled; but he follows
up the truth wherever he finds it, and we may recognise
in this the inward struggle of his mind. Those old
gentlemen were very respectable; but they had not
highly intellectual minds: P. Sulpicius was full of intellect,
and as he was a partisan of Marius, there was a
closer bond between him and Cicero, who felt a patriotic
enthusiasm for Marius, and, when a youth, even sang
of him in a poem. When the revolutions began, he was
in no danger from either of the parties, as he was true-hearted
and friendly to both; that of Marius protected
him with good will, and that of Sylla was not fierce
against him: he was grieved to see that the wrong was
on both sides. Thus, although the distracted state of
his country well nigh broke his heart, he worked by
himself, making shift with a sort of neutrality. When
the time of Sylla’s rule began, he was in his twenty-seventh
year, and had already pleaded several causæ
privatæ. The earliest of his orations is the one pro Roscio
comœdo, which is much older than is generally
thought, being several years earlier than the oration pro
Quinctio, as Garatoni has proved. The oration pro
Quinctio seems first to have drawn much attention to
him, owing to the boldness with which he defended his
persecuted client: still more did he gain the high
esteem of the public by the oration pro Sexto Roscio
Amerino, whom Chrysogonus, a freedman of Sylla,
wanted to send out of the world. It needed a truly
heroic courage for a young man not to be afraid of this
dangerous favourite of Sylla, especially for one who was
himself connected with the Marian party. He carried
his point; but his friends advised him to leave Rome,
that Chrysogonus might forget him. Thus he went to
Rhodes and Asia, and completed his study of Greek.
What he was deficient in, was the knowledge of mathematics,
18of which he had very little, whereas the Greeks
at that time regularly made them a part of their education.
Moreover, he never systematically studied Roman
history, and its writers were not to his taste. He
was fond of poetry, yet only in a limited style: his
chief favourites in literature were the Greek historians
Herodotus and Thucydides; he was also well read in
Theopompus, Timæus, and the rest of these: he enthusiastically
admired the Athenian orators, in reading
whom he felt called upon to vie with them. He had
the greatest facility for work, an excellent memory,
readiness and richness of expression, all the talents of a
speaker. The predominant faculty of his mind was
wit, in which he was not equalled by any man of ancient
times: it was striking, easy, lively and inexhaustible,
what we should perhaps call the French manner.
As to his personal connexions, he seems in his youth
to have been without any bosom friend: it was only
in his later years that there sprang up that pure fine
friendship with Atticus which was a true and sincere
union. His brother, for whom he had indeed much brotherly
affection and love, was a worthless man, and in
no way whatever to be compared with him. Nor was
he happy in his married life, having allied himself,
chiefly at the instigation of his friends, to Terentia, a
domineering disagreeable woman, who exercised an
influence over him which strangely contrasts with the
fact of his never having really loved her; for on the
whole, owing to his affectionate nature, he was easily
led by those around him. She egged him on to the most
dangerous enmities, as for instance, that of Clodius.
The men of the oldest standing all looked upon him
with great esteem, but none of them had any hearty
love for him.
On his return from Asia, Sylla was dead, the troubles
caused by Lepidus were over, and a reaction against the
tyranny of the oligarchs had begun. Such a reaction
has in its outset a peculiarly refreshing and conciliatory
19influence; the most different persons agree, and become
friends. An example of this was seen in France, from
the year 1795 to 1797, when men of the most opposite
kind united in their endeavours; and also in Germany,
at the time when the people rose against French tyranny:
of ten who had then been sworn allies, there are
now perhaps not two together. The general feeling at
Rome was against Sylla, although his party had still the
ascendency. This shows how they lost their power:
they resigned it themselves, being tired of it; just as
the national convention did, after the death of Robespierre.
Very likely, people at Rome felt at that time
much more comfortable than they had any reason for
being: the danger without from Spartacus was so great,
that it was necessary to keep close together.
Although Cicero was a homo novus, and had not distinguished
himself in war, he yet resolved to obtain the
highest offices. One step after another was given him
with the greatest goodwill of the people; and he acquitted
himself in the most creditable manner, not for the
sake of mere show, but from the bent of his noble disposition.
He was thoroughly a man of honour, far above
even the thought of anything like meanness: to put
forth all his powers, and to display them most brilliantly,
was his generous ambition. The necessity of making
himself conspicuous in order to rise, was the source
of that boastfulness with which he has been so often reproached,
and which perhaps he would not have had
under other circumstances. He distinguished himself by
his accusation of Verres, but yet more by his defences;
whereas the other great orators were always engaged
as accusers. It is quite striking, how many he undertook
to defend; but he also pleaded for people for whom
I could not have said one word, but rather would have
accused them. This was in many cases to be accounted
for by his kindliness of soul; as for instance, there was
in the defence of M. Æmilius Scaurus, the son, an apostrophe
to the father, that deep hypocrite, who, in his
20later years, it is true, was really the worthy man that
he had wished to seem in his earlier ones. Cicero had
personally much admiration for him, having been kindly
received by him when a youth; and it might perhaps
have immensely flattered him to be noticed by such a
man. Scaurus was a grand seigneur, the first man of
the republic as princeps senatus and censor, and Cicero
did not know him from history as we do. Thus I confess
that a certain great statesman, in whose house I
almost lived in my youth, appears to me in quite a different
light from what he would if I had not personally
known him. Cicero may after all have been chiefly led
by the feeling, that he was sparing the manes of a man,
who as it were had inaugurated him for life, the grief of
having his son condemned. Vatinius he also defended,
after having once pleaded against him. Vatinius, however,
was not that bad man which he would seem from
Cicero’s passionate speech; the latter had dealt his
blows too hard. Cicero had forgiven him, as he could
not but pity him when he was in such distress; and his
gratitude to Cicero, as expressed in his letters, shows
him to have been no villain. Cicero thought it a dispensation
of providence, that he had power to take his
part: the consciousness of being able to give protection
by his talent, was the highest delight of his life. For
having pleaded for Gabinius, he is indeed to be blamed;
but this was a sacrifice which he made to the republic
in order to gain Pompey over to the good cause, and it
was very hard for him to do. For it was the misfortune
of that age, that to do good, one had to be friendly to
very bad people. It is a sad pity that this defence has
been lost; but the oration pro Rabirio Postumo being a
close continuation of the same arguments, we may form
some notion of that pro Gabinio; he surely did not
make out Gabinius to be innocent. The courts indeed
at that time were not juries, whose business is only to
find out whether the defendant is guilty or not guilty,
and where a higher authority may step in and grant a
21pardon or commute the punishment; but the quæstiones
perpetuæ had come into the place of the former popular
tribunals, and combined both of these functions: they
gave a verdict as to innocence or guilt, and also had the
right of pardoning. This latter power must not be
wanting in any state, summum jus being only too often
summa injuria: as no one else had it in Rome, the
courts of justice themselves had to be invested with it.
This is the point of view from which we are to judge
the tribunals and advocates of that time. When Kant
in his Kritik der Urtheilskraft (Critical Enquiry into the
Faculty of Judgment) assails the eloquence and the profession
of advocate, he is in some measure in contradiction
with himself; for even on this occasion, he has
written with the greatest eloquence when inveighing
against political, and still more against forensic eloquence.
Before our (German) tribunals, eloquence indeed
is not allowable: the question in our mode of administering
justice being “guilty or not guilty,” the
Judge has to throw aside anything that might beguile
or mislead him. If, as has been often proposed, but
cannot be carried out, there were a board which had to
inquire whether there be room for pardon, a generous
orator pleading for mercy would be very much in his
place.[4]
Cicero having thus passed through the quæstorship,
ædileship, and prætorship, was now, in his forty-third
year, unanimously chosen consul. It cannot be denied
that, at the end of his consulship, he became giddy; but
he entered upon it with cheerful confidence, and the
circumstances in which he was placed were exceedingly
difficult. The tribunes everywhere abused their recovered
power. The speeches against Rullus are some
22of the most brilliant examples of eloquence, when he
demanded a small sacrifice from the people, and induced
them not to accept the bounty which was proffered
them in the scheme for the division of the lands. Moreover,
when the sons of the proscribed (some of whom
were of the first families, and had become impoverished,
inasmuch as Sylia had deprived them of all prospect
of office), had by the motion of a tribune been
given to hope that they might recover their honours,
he persuaded them concordiæ causa to renounce them.
The person who from the very first withstood him, was
Catiline. How Cicero was to be murdered; how he discovered
those plots; how he saw into the secrets of the
conspirators, without being seen himself; you may read
in his own writings, and in Sallust. Matters came to
such a pass, that Cicero found it necessary to attack
Catiline in the senate; whereupon the latter left Rome,
which was considered a great advantage. He betook
himself to Tuscany where one of his partisans had gathered
together some thousands of armed men, a number
of vagabonds and outcasts, part of them Etruscans
driven from their homes, others military colonists and
such like. The accomplices, however, who had remained
behind in Rome were men of the highest standing:
among others was the prætor Lentulus, who had already
been consul, but had been struck off from the list
of the senate ambitus causa; so that he had once more
to pass through all the offices, beginning at the lowest,
to be able again to come into the senate. As to him,
Cicero knew of his guilt for certain; in other cases, the
connexion was very probable, though it was never
proved; in that of M. Crassus, it was very likely. Julius
Cæsar was also mentioned; yet Cicero believed him
innocent: it is my conviction, that he could not have
engaged in anything of the kind, the conspiracy being
such, that this is not to be thought of. To get such
evidence that the crime might, according to the Roman
law, be delictum manifestum, Cicero made use of a stratagem.
23The envoys of the Allobroges, who since Pompey’s
return from the war with Sertorius, were Roman
citizens, and just then were present at Rome to negotiate
a loan, and to obtain relief, he persuaded to disclose
to him the offers made them by the conspirators:
they were also to get the letters of these to Catiline,
and then to give them up to him. The envoys being
thereupon arrested, for the sake of appearance, by the
prætor Valerius Flaccus, those letters were found
among their papers. The punishment to be inflicted,
was the question now mooted in the senate. According
to the Roman law, there was no doubt but that, the
identity of the signatures being proved, the culprits
might be condemned to death, and this was moved by
Dec. Silanus: but Cæsar argued that this would be a
highly dangerous step; that great odium would be incurred
by it, as one would have to return to the former
mode of wholesale executions; that one should rather
disperse the men, and keep them imprisoned for life in
different places. I believe that, if in later years the
question had been put to Cicero, what would have been
best for the republic, he himself would have wished that
Cato had not spoken, however honest a man Cato was:
it was a misfortune for the republic that those men
were executed. That the events are here very much
crowded, must not surprise us; for the greatest things
may happen within a few weeks. On the other hand,
it startles us when Cicero in the oration for Sextius says,
“what would have happened, if the conspiracy had been
discovered later, if Catiline had had time during the
winter, and thrown himself into the mountains?” This
seems enigmatical; for those familiar with Cicero’s
writings, are aware that he designates his triumph as
Nonæ illæ Decembres, and in Tuscany it is certainly winter
in December. Yet this comes from the derangement
of the calendar; just as Cæsar also once betakes
himself into winter-quarters in February.
Catiline had joined C. Manlius in Etruria. Cicero
24adopted the most excellent arrangement. Q. Metellus
Celer, who was posted with an army in the ager Gallicus
Picenus, marched to the northern slope of the Apennines,
to cut off the passes which lead from Fæsulæ to
Rome. C. Antonius, whom Cicero with wonderful
cleverness had detached from the conspirators, and had
quite neutralized by giving up all sorts of advantages
to him, had likewise the command of an army; but
whilst he was ill, Petreius, his lieutenant, led the troops
into action. Catiline, as all retreat from Etruria to
Gaul was cut off from him, was obliged to accept the
battle. He died as he had lived, like a valiant soldier:
the whole band fought like lions; they fell like the
soldiers of Spartacus.
For this consulship, Cicero indeed got thanks for the
moment; but instead of gaining for him lasting gratitude,
it only brought upon him enmity and detraction.
This is one of the saddest lessons taught us by the observation
of human affairs. It is quite natural for a
distinguished man to put forth his claims to acknowledgment;
just as the striving after truth is a deep-rooted
impulse of our nature:—a true saint, like Vincent
de Paul, could alone have raised himself above
such a weakness. Plato justly says, “the last garment
which the pure man doffs, is the love of fame;” and
when he does cast it off, he generally stands on most
dangerous ground. When I bethink myself of the crying
evil of our age, then I see with pain that there are
so few who are bent upon seeking deathless fame: this
wretched unsatisfying life, which is all for the present
moment, leads to no good. He who yearns after glory
from posterity, is sure to be a good man; and even his
own age also must acknowledge, and must honour him.
The only poetical genius among the Germans now living,
Count Platen, has a painful longing after renown,
and often speaks of his not being appreciated by the
men of his day. Cicero was of a morbid sensibility: if it
is in the power of a great man always to command and
25to act, he cares less whether he is honoured or not; but
if he is only able to command the souls of men, and not
their bodies, he is much more susceptible with regard
to such matters. Cicero was keenly, and even morbidly
alive to anything like a slight; any injury, or ill-will,
any kind of envy upset him. Unhappily, he tried to
overcome this by putting himself forward to show to
the people what he was, sometimes chiding, and at other
times remonstrating with them. They were certainly
the vainest of all men, who in the most highly edifying
language forsooth! have written on Cicero’s vanity: I
am grieved at it, as I love Cicero as if I had known
him, and also feel hurt by the scoffs which even the ancients
already uttered against him. A source of great
heart-burning to him, was the mortification which he
suffered from Pompey’s indifference. He must have
known very little of the latter before he went to Asia,
and they can only have met during Pompey’s first consulship;
on what terms of friendliness they were, cannot
be known: at that time, Cicero was ædile. Afterwards,
Pompey was for the most part absent, whereas
Cicero was always at Rome. Pompey, full of his victories
over Mithridates, thought of no one in all the republic
but himself; and when Cicero wrote an unfortunate
letter to him in Asia, in which he told him of
the events in Rome, to make him aware of what he
himself had done for the good of the country, he answered
coldly: he took it as an offence, that Cicero
should have presumed, in the face of his own achievements,
to speak of what he too had done for his country.
Another motive were the aristocratical airs which
Pompey was pleased to give himself towards a homo
novus like Cicero, although his own ancestor was but a
low musician.
Hardly was Cicero’s consulship at an end, when he
met with enmity. The whole college of tribunes in the
following year, with the exception of Cato, was seditious:
party names had no longer any meaning, and Metellus
26and Bestia, who belonged to the plebeian nobility, were
playing the part of demagogues, and attacking him with
the greatest impudence. His oration for Murena
breathes the inward quiet joyfulness, which, just after
his victory, made him happy for some time: it is by no
means appreciated as it ought to be, and least of all by
those jurists who have taken up the gauntlet as knights
errant for the great lawyer Servius Sulpicius. People
never bethink themselves of the state of mind in which
the speaker is, but they are offended by trifling expressions;
a thing which has often been the case with myself.
This went on for centuries; no one understood how innocently
Cicero here laughs at the Stoic philosophy as well
as at the lawyers.
In his later years, Cicero displayed much kindliness
towards younger men, whom he took by the hand and
attached to himself; which was quite different from
what most of his contemporaries did, Hortensius especially.
Thus he behaved to Brutus, thus also to Cælius
Rufus, a very opposite character; Catullus he likewise
knew, and was most kind to; nor did he repel young
men whom he found astray in evil paths, and whom he
mourned over: such was the highly gifted Curio, a man
whom he tried by every means to lead to better ways.
In the epistles of M. Aurelius to Fronto, the Emperor
says, “We have no word for φιλοστοργία, nor have we
the thing itself.” This tenderness of heart which very
few Romans had, this fatherly and friendly affection
Cicero possessed, and therefore he was ridiculed as unmanly
and soft: his mourning for the death of his
daughter, arose from this inward depth of feeling. He
was not a weak character; on the contrary, he showed
in great emergencies a very decided strength of will:
but he was a most impressible being, and easily upset;
he needed “a nice and subtle happiness,” as Milton
calls it, and thus the indignum utterly overpowered
him. Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi was reproached with
vanity, irritability, and weakness; he was just such a
27character, and in him Cicero often becomes clear to
me.
The event soon happened which gave rise to the misfortunes
of his whole life. The root of the conspiracy
was torn up; but many fibres of it had still remained in
the ground, and grew up again. P. Clodius was descended
in the direct line from old Appius Claudius, being
the youngest of the three sons of one Appius Claudius.
The eldest of these, who bore the hereditary name of
Appius, was a good-natured man, very superstitious,
narrow-minded, and commonplace, though on account
of his high rank he was raised to the first dignities.
There were also two sisters, one of whom was married
to Lucullus. Thus Clodius belonged to the very noblest
aristocracy: but mere nobility was no longer thought
of, and power was all that men cared for. In that profligate
age, P. Clodius was among the most abandoned:
he is one of those persons who have had most to do with
the ruin of Rome. At the festival of the Bona Dea,
which, like the Thesmophoriæ, was celebrated only by
women in the house of the pontifex maximus, he
smuggled himself in, in disguise, that he might meet
with Pompeia, the wife of Julius Cæsar; but he was
discovered, and tried for it. According to the true
Roman law, the trial ought to have been before the
spiritual court of the pontiffs, where he would undoubtedly
have been condemned: but we see from this
instance that the real jurisdiction, except in cases which
were strictly ceremonial, must have been taken away
from them. Clodius wanted to prove an alibi, and had
the impudence to call in Cicero as a witness. The latter
is said till then not to have had any quarrel with
him, and the fellow was so dangerous that he ought to
have contented himself with declining to give evidence;
but Cicero, as we are told, to clear himself with his
domineering wife of all connection with that family,
not only bore true witness, but also gave free vent to
his wit: he said things of Clodius in open court which
28put him in a ridiculous light, and could not but have
caused his conviction. But Clodius had bought himself
off from the condemnation of the Judges; he had actually
lodged the money for his acquittal. For this
day’s work, Clodius never forgave Cicero, and he thirsted
for revenge.
Pompey now came back to Rome, where he renewed
his former behaviour to Cicero, treating him not only
with indifference but with scorn; and he encouraged
Clodius to undertake something against him. Clodius,
having now got a plebeian to make a show of adopting
him, stood for the tribuneship, and was returned. Such
transitiones ad plebem were quite lawful: even in former
times, no adoption would have been needed at all; for
one had only to go over to the plebs, as many patricians
did, when all that was required was that the censor
admitted them. But people had now no longer any
clear notions in these things, and Cicero himself impugns
the validity of that tribuneship.
One of the atrocities of the age was now perpetrated.
Ptolemy Auletes, who on account of his utter worthlessness
had been driven from Alexandria, came to
Rome; and there he bargained with those who were in
power about the price of his restoration. The people
of Alexandria sent a counter embassy with the most
bitter complaints, to prove his guilt; but Ptolemy was
powerful enough, with the connivance of the leading
men at Rome, to have those who were of highest rank
in that Alexandrine embassy assassinated: Clodius had
a hand in all this. His tribunate took place in the year
after Cæsar’s consulship.
C. JULIUS CÆSAR.
Cæsar’s consulship (693) is to be looked upon as the
true beginning of the civil wars; its date is four years
29after that of Cicero. He had not been much talked of
until then, although he enjoyed extraordinary favour
with the people; as yet Pompey and Crassus alone were
powerful.—The two biographies of Cæsar by Suetonius
and Plutarch, are, strange to say, both of them
ἀκέφαλοι.[5] In the former, there is wanting besides
the real beginning, the dedication to the then præfectus
prætorio, a fact which we have known since the
year 1812. With regard to the latter, as far as I am
aware, this has not been noticed before; but Plutarch
could not have altogether passed over his ancestors, the
whole of his genealogy, and the history of his boyhood
and youth, so as to begin with Sylla’s attempt to have
him divorced from his second wife. For this reason,
we know hardly anything of his origin. The Julii were
an Alban clan, and therefore in the earliest times of
Rome belonged to the gentes minores: in the first ages
of the republic they are often to be met with in curule
dignities; but from the fourth to the seventh century,
the gens is no where to be found. Notwithstanding
their being patricians, they sided with the popular party.
The sister of his father having been married to Marius,
Cæsar clung from a youth to Marius and his memory;
just as Plato did to the uncle of his mother. He was
married to Cornelia, the daughter of Cinna, a union
which Sylla wanted to break; but Cæsar, in an age
when all men trembled, showed already the greatness
of his soul, disdaining, as he did, to stoop and to forsake
the wife of his love. Her dowry was taken from him,
as the property of her father had been confiscated; and
he had to put up with it: he had also to hide himself;
and though he was not on the proscription lists, he was
closely hunted, with Sylla’s knowledge, by what were
called the Cornelians, and he had to buy his life. He
was at that time still very young, having, according to
the custom of the high born families, been married very
30early; yet there was something so extraordinary about
him, that even the wild myrmidons of Sylla, and his
most eager partisans, could not bear the thought of sacrificing
such a fine young man. It was only, however,
with great reluctance, that Sylla consented to his being
saved from persecution. Cæsar now returned to Rome;
but with all his boldness and determination, he was exceedingly
guarded: it would have been happy for Cicero,
if he had had Cæsar’s circumspection. As long as
Sylla was alive, Cæsar, like an industrious youth who
was going through his studies, had his attention wholly
given to literature; and the greatest general of his age
showed no military inclinations whatever. Nor did he
serve any military apprenticeship: when he went out
as quæstor to Spain, he at once took the command of
troops; just as if among us, one who had never learned
the drill, were to lead a brigade. So likewise did General
Moreau, in his very first campaign, act at once as a
general of division; Frederic II. also had never been in
any school of war. After his quæstorship, Julius Cæsar
became ædile, when he greatly distinguished himself
by the pomp which he displayed, although he was
by no means wealthy. But in these matters, he was
very careless: to those who lent to him, he gave a pledge
in his heart, to repay the debt tenfold, when once he
should have come into power.
The opposite party were already losing ground in
public opinion. He now boldly set himself up as the
head of the remnant of Marius’ party: thus he made
over his aunt Julia, the widow of Marius, a brilliant
funeral oration, the first which was ever spoken for a
woman. And as the conquering faction had unseemingly
destroyed all the monuments and statues of Marius,
Cæsar one night secretly caused the statue of Marius
to be raised again in the Capitol, together with a
Minerva which crowned it, and an inscription in which
all his titles were recounted. This awakened such affright,
that old Catulus was foolish enough to try and
31stir up the senate to take steps against him; but he
did it in vain, as Cæsar was already too high up in
public estimation. He then got the prætorship, and in
693, the consulate.
If we place Cæsar before our minds with all his qualities,
we find in his character a great deal of openness
and friendliness. He was a very kindhearted man,
though not affectionate like Cicero; he wanted to have
many friends, and there he was quite different from
Cicero, who was very exclusive: he was indulgent, and
formed friendships with many who were diametrically
opposite to himself, and whose acquaintance was even
hurtful to his good name. He was free of all envy and
jealousy of Pompey, though he could not endure the assumed
superiority of people who were infinitely below
himself. Pompey could not bear that Cæsar should stand
side by side with him, nor Cæsar on the other hand,
that Pompey should set himself above him:
His genius was most versatile: he possessed an unexampled
facility and power in all that could be done by
intellect; he had an excellent memory, together with
presence of mind, and the firmest reliance on himself
and his good fortune, being confident that he must succeed
in everything. Owing to this great facility, most
of his acquirements were not the fruits of the toilsome
drudgery of the school, but of the cultivation and exercise
of his great talents: thus it was with his eloquence
and his style. In the very fact that he owed nothing
to art, and everything to himself, lay the chief secret
of his wonderful power. He had made himself master
of many branches of knowledge; for while they interested
him, he devoted to them all his energy and attention.
He was particularly remarkable for his acuteness
32and keen observation; and it is certainly no small
honour for grammar that Cæsar was so fond of it: his
work on analogy would very likely be as much superior
to all the grammars of that time, as his history was to
all other works of the same kind which are founded on
personal observation. The same originality is also
manifest in his strategical talents: his sound, strong
intellect clearly marks its aim, and then finds out for
itself the means of attaining it. He was no intriguer;
of all those plots which were then so general, he knew
nothing: on the contrary, he was the frankest person in
the world, which was the very reason why he was often
so little on his guard. Not a few of the arbitrary acts of
which he was guilty, were merely the consequences of
a former want of caution, of frankness and openness.
His kindliness of soul, his mildness and humanity, he
showed after his victory in a manner which could never
have been expected from him; nor was there anything
artificial in it. Augustus was an actor in all he did;
but Cæsar was always true and open-hearted. Had he
lived in times when the machine of the state was
smoothly going on, and was not yet rusty and disorganised,
when it was still possible to govern the republic
with a strong, sound hand,—as for instance, in the days
of Scipio; or, had he been born on the throne, he would
calmly have gone through his career, and without destroying
anything, have most brilliantly reached the
goal. But he was thrown upon a time, when as Göthe
says, “one must needs be either anvil or hammer;” and
of course the choice was not difficult. Cato might dream
as long as he liked, that there was still hope with the
fæx plebis, and that the age of Curius and Fabricius
were not yet over; Cicero might trim and tack about
in this republic, if he chose; but Cæsar could not do
otherwise than rule the circumstances in which he
found himself, and he had unremittingly, untiringly to
advance towards the mark which he had in view. That
he was unscrupulous in his wars, cannot be denied: his
33Gallic wars are for the most part downright crimes;
his conduct towards the Usipetes and Tenchteri was
shocking, and towards Vercingetorix deplorable, it was
dictated by an unhallowed ambition; yet he never did
anything of the kind against his fellow-citizens. His
behaviour to the Gauls may indeed be accounted for by
what we know of the manners of the times. The ruling
party at Rome behaved towards Cæsar, not only
foolishly, but with utter injustice: they ought never to
have hindered his offering himself from Gaul as a candidate
for the consular dignity. If they had allowed
him quietly to get it, matters would not only have gone
on better than in Pompey’s second and third consulships,
but all would very likely have passed off peaceably,
and even perhaps beneficially for the republic.
Had it in any way been possible to find a remedy for
the disorders of the state, Cæsar was the only man to
devise it, and to carry it out.
In his behaviour to Cicero, who during his consulship
had offended him, he shows himself to be a very
different person from Pompey, though Pompey’s vanity
only had been wounded, whereas Cicero had everywhere
leagued himself with the enemies of Cæsar. Yet the
latter did not bear him the least grudge; but would
gladly have taken him with him to Gaul, and there
protected him.
As to Cæesar’s style, everybody knows that there is
no greater master among prose writers in the γένος
ἀφελές. The highest acknowledgment is what Cicero says
of his eloquence: it is sermoni proprior, the most finished
conversation of a highly educated man. Posterity
has indeed been more just to Cæsar’s genius, than his
contemporaries have been; Tacitus, however, discerned
it.[7]
Cæsar was as a man possessed by fate, who rushed on
34with a headlong impulse of passions, though always benevolent
and amiable: he thus got entangled in most unfortunate
embarrassments. To this feature in his character
belongs his extravagant prodigality; not for his
own pleasures, but for the people, which made him dependent
upon the rich, especially upon Crassus, who
advanced him immense sums. If during Cæsar’s consulship,
there had been a party which had wished honestly
to attach itself to him, and to rid itself of Pompey’s
influence, his year of office would have passed
without a stain. It was in fact rather a loss of time
for him; as his real object was the province, which, according
to the custom of those times, he could only obtain
at the end of the year. Vatinius, who was then
tribunus plebis, with a violation of the laws which was
become common in those days, caused Cisalpine Gaul
and Illyricum to be given for five years as a province
to Cæsar; and to this was afterwards added Transalpine
Gaul, which at that time was not yet a province. Pompey
until now had had his province only for an indefinite
period.
Cæsar enacted several popular laws. He founded a
colony in Capua which, since its conquest in the Second
Punic War, had always been in a strange position: the
buildings there, and the ground, were the property of the
Roman republic; the houses might be held on lease, and
the land was cultivated by hereditary tenants who had
to pay the tenth of the produce. The state, however,
might resume these grants at pleasure, and attempts
had twice before been made to change the system: the
former of these was in Cinna’s consulship, on the motion
of M. Brutus; and the latter in that of Cicero,
when Servilius Rullus brought it forward. Against this
colony, Cicero had already spoken on that occasion; and
when Cæsar now returned to the plan, he refused being
one of the commissioners for founding it: Cæsar resented
this as a very bitter personal affront, and the two
were for some time estranged. Yet for all that, they
35would have been friends again, had Cicero chosen to go
with Cæsar to Gaul. Cicero’s brother Quintus was with
him there, and was treated by him with the greatest
distinction. Cæsar afterwards tried in every possible
way to show his good feeling towards Cicero; but the
latter was induced by his evil star to remain at Rome.
Cicero had a great deal of trouble with Cæsar’s colleague,
a narrow-minded and obstinate, but honest man.
The next consuls, L. Calpurnius Piso and A. Gabinius,
were ἄνθρωποι ἀλιτήριοι: all the evil that Cicero says of
them is quite true. They bought of Clodius, by letting
him carry without hindrance his detestable rogations
which were to revenge himself on Cicero, the provinces
of Syria and Macedonia: the former of these
was for Gabinius, who wanted to restore Ptolemy Auletes;
the latter for Piso. Clodius now impeached Cicero
for having put Roman citizens to death without
trial; and yet, as we have already remarked, it was a
case of delictum manifestum, in which, by the lex Porcia,
no further judicial proceedings were requisite.
There were three leges Porciæ, the last of which had
probably been brought in by L. Porcius during the Social
War. In former times, any one could evade the
popular tribunals by going into a municipium; but
after the citizenship had been granted to the Italians,
the state of things was necessarily altered. The question
must now have been, whether men who were full
Roman citizens were at all liable to capital punishment
for any crime; and public opinion indeed seems to have
answered it in the negative. By the lex Porcia therefore,
either a Roman citizen could not be put to death
at all; or if it must be, it was to be done on the spot.
According to this, Cicero could only be proceeded against
quod civem Romanum necasset, but not quod indemnatum
Romanum civem necasset.
All kept aloof: Pompey went into the country, and
would not see Cicero or his friends; Cæsar was in Gaul;
Crassus had a bitter spite against Cicero for having
36been mentioned in Catiline’s conspiracy,—as was generally
believed, with justice, but yet without Cicero’s
having anything to do with it, as this was said by one
of the witnesses. With the son of Crassus, however,
P. Crassus, who was a very distinguished man, Cicero
was very intimate; and he loved him notwithstanding
all his father’s enmity. Cicero could not abide the day
of his trial, or he would have been lost: the concilia
were now in truth little better than the rakings together
of the dregs of the Roman market and streets, and
such meetings allowed themselves to be guided by a
leader in any way he liked. Cicero had therefore to
leave the city to save his life. The senate, bad as that
body was, mutually encouraged each other, showing
great sympathy for Cicero. Clodius, however, followed
up his victory, as he saw that the government was quite
cowed. He pulled down Cicero’s houses; he destroyed
his villa; he put up his property for sale, though not a
soul would buy it; and on the ground where his house
had stood, he built a small temple to Freedom. The
place on the Palatine where it stood, I made out within
about fifty paces, and I was there often: in the reign
of the emperor Claudius, the house was rebuilt; but it
was burnt down again in Nero’s fire. Not only was
Cicero himself outlawed, but likewise all those who
should give him shelter or abet him. Thus he was not
able to go at all to Sicily, the prætor there, with whom
in former times he had been on friendly terms, having
allowed himself to be intimidated: he therefore went
to Macedon, where he lived with the quæstor Plancius,
who behaved to him like a brother. Clodius now kept
his word to the consuls. Gabinius and Piso got the provinces
which he had promised them, whilst he himself
with the greatest shamelessness laid hands on whatever
he listed. This went on as long as his year of office
lasted. In the following year, public opinion declared
so loudly for Cicero, petitions pouring in from all sides,
that he was regularly recalled, and received with a
37triumphant welcome which consoled him for the moment;—nay,
he deemed himself happier than ever.
Yet for all that, his misfortune had made a deep impression
upon him: the speeches which he made just before
the year of that calamity, especially that for Flaccus
his assistant in the affair of Catiline, are clouded with
anxiety, and with bitter grief at the reward which he
received from his country, a sorrow which even endangered
his life; and this imparts to them a peculiar interest.
The very next year, that happiness was already
at an end. The internal condition of Rome became
worse and worse. Pompey fell out with Clodius, and
showed himself friendly to Cicero. Pompey and Crassus
now wanted to be consuls, against the wishes of all
viri boni; and they carried their point, as Saturninus
and Glaucia once did. To intimidate Domitius, Cato’s
brother-in-law, who likewise stood for the consulship,
they had him waylaid early in the morning, as he was
going home, and his servant, who went before him with
a torch, stabbed before his eyes; thus showing him
what he was threatened with, and warning him to withdraw
from his competition: he was forced to give way.
Now that these two pillars of the aristocracy had
thus become consuls, they managed, by means of a
Lex Trebonia, to have provinces granted them. From
this time, the gentes of the Italians are met with
more and more in the Fasti. Trebonius is a Lucanian
name: to the same class belong men like Asinius Pollio,
Munatius Plancus, and others, who likewise came
from Italian towns. The Trebonian law gave Spain
with the legions quartered there, to Pompey for five
years; and to Crassus, the war against the Parthians.
This time, sin was its own punishment: for Crassus
found his death in that war, and Pompey also was
brought by this illegal measure to his fall. To gain the
consent of Cæsar, the possession of his own province
was prolonged to him likewise for five years. It is a
melancholy fact, that Cicero felt obliged from his experience
38to speak in favour of this assignment, thus making
a painful sacrifice to necessity.
The anarchy and confusion daily increased. In the
year 701, the elections were stopped, and what had
never been done before, Pompey was elected sole consul.
While in this capacity, he brought in several
laws, especially concerning the res judiciaria, the details
of which, however, cannot be made out: thus
much is known, that the number of the knights from
which the jury was taken was considerably increased,
and the pleadings extended. There was also a law
passed against ambitus, which indeed is a ridiculous
one; but it was only intended to check those cases which
were too gross.
It was shortly before this consulship of Pompey, that
Annius Milo, who was of an old Roman Syllanian[8] family,
and the deadly enemy of Clodius met the latter on the
road from Rome to what is now Albano. Each of them,
as was then the custom of men of rank, was accompanied
by a great retinue; and in the scuffle which then arose,
Clodius was mortally wounded. On this, a dreadful tumult
broke out, and Milo was arraigned as a murderer.
Pompey was against Milo, whose consulship he wished
to prevent; he therefore sided with the party of Clodius,
and took such measures, that Cicero, when pleading
for Milo, for the first and only time, lost his presence
of mind. Milo had to go as an exile to Marseilles: he
returned from thence during Cæsar’s war, and perished,
having engaged in an insurrection against the latter.
Thus far goes on the history to the tenth year of Cæsar’s
proconsulship: he now stood for the consulship,
and was thwarted in this by all sorts of sophisms and
cabals. During the last years, Cicero had been forced
39against his will to accept the proconsulship of Cilicia.
It was a very dangerous position: on the one hand, he
was afraid of the country being overrun by the Parthians,
who since the death of Crassus had been let
loose; and on the other, he could not bear to live in an
out-of-the-way corner, where even the rudiments of
Greek learning were hardly to be met with, and the
gentry themselves had only a short time before been
captains of pirates. The overthrow of Crassus happened
in the fifth year of Cæsar’s proconsulship.
The peace between Pompey and Cæsar, which lasted
during the absence of the latter, was made in a congress
at Lucca between Cæsar, Pompey, and Crassus, all
three of whom came thither with a strong body of followers,
and settled about the fate of the commonwealth.
If may be imagined what must have been the condition
of a state in which such things could have happened.
Pompey then married Cæsar’s daughter Julia,
who, however, died not long afterwards in child-bed:
her infant daughter soon followed her. This broke
again the connexion: had it lasted, Cæsar would certainly
not have undertaken any war. He was a man
of so much heart, that he would no doubt have rather
borne with anything, if by the war his daughter and
grand-daughter were at all likely to be injured.
THE GALLIC WARS.
Cæsar’s Commentaries and Hirtius’ supplements are
written with such conciseness and terseness, that to
abridge them still more would leave nothing but a reduced
miniature outline; and therefore I refer you to
the work itself. The oftener one reads them, the more
one recognises the hand of a great master. There remains,
however, much to be done for him: a critical
edition is much wanted. With regard to the Gallic
40war much good is to be expected; not only from the
manuscripts already collated, of which there are many,
but also from those not yet collated, the number of
which is still greater. The Italian ones, especially those
at Florence and in the Vatican, are some of them very
old, and have for the most part not yet been made use
of; the English ones, the majority of which have been
collated, are of very inferior value. The manuscripts
of the books De Bello Gallico are not to be traced to one
single family, as is the case with those De Bello Civili:
in these little is to be gathered from the collations; the
same gaps are found in all of them, and they are likewise
ἀκέφαλοι, the first words being patched in, in the
later times of the middle ages, to hide the defect a little.
Davis and Oudendorp were very well aware of this. As
for the other books, I put them up some time ago as
the subject for a prize essay, but without success: I
will tell you my opinion about them. The appended
book on the Alexandrine war, and the last on the Gallic
war, in their style and manner evidently betray the
same author, that is, A. Hirtius, a most accomplished
man, to whom we may certainly give the credit of
something so sterling. To think of Pansa is quite
preposterous. It is one of the most excellent works
which we have in the range of Latin literature; the
language is most highly classical, being the Latin then
spoken by the first men of the day. Very different is
the book De Bello Africano, which I unhesitatingly
ascribe to C. Oppius. It is indeed clever, written by
a very good officer, and thoroughly trustworthy; but
the style is much less elegant. Oppius was the companion
of Cæsar in all his wars, and one of his dearest
friends. Once, while on a journey, they both put up
for the night at the same cottage, when, Oppius being
ill, Cæsar gave up to him the only disposable room in
the house, and he himself slept in the passage. Such
traits are quite unstudied, showing us Cæsar as he
really was. Who wrote the book De Bello Hispaniensi,
41heaven knows; certainly a man who did not belong to
good society, its language being the genuine vulgar
idiom of the common Roman soldier: it is an extract
from the diaries which a dull fellow kept during the
war, and it is a curious and odd performance of its
kind.
When Cæsar came to Gaul, the country was in great
commotion. Languedoc, Provence, and only since a
short time, Dauphiné also and Savoy, were subject to
the Roman sway; the Allobroges called for Cæsar’s
protection against the inroads of the Helvetians. This
is one of the strangest events in the whole of antiquity.
A man of high rank prevails upon the whole of the nation
to break up, and to conquer new abodes in the then
distracted land of Gaul, promising to lead them into
fine countries where they might live like gentlemen,
whilst the conquered people were to till the fields. He
might perhaps have felt some dread at the spread of the
Sueves in the Alps, as they would have been obliged to
defend themselves against them at a disadvantage, or
have to place themselves under the protection of Rome.
Such a thought as this conceived by an individual is not
a thing quite so unheard of; but that he could have made
the whole nation destroy its towns and villages, and
that after his death, they still followed up his plan, is
certainly surprising. Yet they did it, and marched
with the Tigurini into Southern Gaul. How Cæsar
now negotiated with the Helvetians; how he blocked
up their road to the Roman province, and having beaten
them in two battles, obliged them, after a terrible slaughter
in which the Romans revenged themselves on the
Tigurini for the Cimbric devastations, to capitulate to
him; is not only generally known, but also told very
circumstantially in the first book of the Commentaries.
The power of the Helvetians having been broken, the
remnant returned to their home: it was an awful end
of a fantastic scheme. What may be said to explain
and excuse it, is the then situation of Gaul, which, quite
42different from the present compact country of France,
was parcelled out among a great number of distinct
tribes. One must distinguish the Aquitanians, who
were Iberians, in Guienne; the mingled Iberians and
Celts, in Languedoc; the mixture of Celts and Ligurians
on the Rhone; the Ligurians on the coast of Provence;
and further in the interior of France, the Celts or
Gauls. Yet all the people between the Garonne in the
south, and the Seine and the Marne in the north, were
not Celts: there certainly were Cymri or Belgians already
in Basse Bretagne. Their alleged emigration
from Britain in the fifth century is fabulous. These
Cymri were strangers to the true Gael or Celts. It is
not surprising that they kept their ground in Brittany;
for originally they had their abodes all along the north
of the Seine and the Marne, but were afterwards severed
from each other by the Celts, who pushed on from
the south to the north.
In the remaining parts of free Gaul, the Arvernians
were of old the ruling people; all the rest were dependent
upon them, even as the nations of the Peloponnesus
were on Sparta. And just as afterwards in Greece,
Athens put up for the hegemony; so likewise the
Æduans rose by the side of the Arvernians, being encouraged
by the Romans, who were true to their policy
of dividing: they sided with the Romans in the war
which, in the year 631, the Allobroges and the Arvernians
waged so disastrously against Rome. It was then
that the Æduans got the name of brothers and friends
of the Roman people, and they grew powerful at the
expense of the Arvernians. They were now great for
some time; but at length the Sequani rose in Franche
Comté, and on this occasion a German tribe, the Sueves,
burst into Gaul: the Arvernians never raised their heads
again. Gaul was an exhausted wretched country. Owing
to the many emigrations which there had been, its
population may have dwindled; although, on the whole,
emigrations, if they be not too extensive, will not weaken
43a country, even if they have drained it of two-thirds of
its inhabitants, as the loss will be made up in about
seventy to eighty years. What may have then induced
the German tribes to cross the Rhine, is buried from us
in the night of oblivion. Very likely, even before the
Gallic conquest, they had once their dwellings as far as
the Alps: in the Valais, according to Livy, ere yet the
Gauls had settled there, there were Germans who must
have been overpowered by the Celts: as conquerors, the
Germans never came thither. Ariovistus, who was in
the country of the Sequani, took for his Sueves part of
the arable land, some of which they tilled themselves,
and the rest they made the conquered inhabitants farm
for them: this policy was afterwards always followed
by the Germans. Against him, the Æduans and the
Sequani called upon the aid of the Romans, and it was
the very difficulty of the enterprise which emboldened
Cæsar to engage in it. Situated as he was, he ought
not to have done it; for the year before his consulship,
Ariovistus had actually been acknowledged by the Roman
people as a sovereign king. Cæsar marched against
him notwithstanding, and won a decisive victory near
Besançon: most of the Sueves were destroyed, and the
remnant again crossed the Rhine, whither Cæsar at that
time was too wise to follow them. There was now, not
only the whole country of the Gauls beyond the Alps
under his rule, but also Cisalpine Gaul, down to the
frontier of the Romagna; Illyricum, as far as Macedon;
and on the side of the Barbarians, quite boundless
tracts. Here he had seven legions, and all the auxiliaries
he could get from the allies. We of course hear no
more of real socii, but merely of auxilia, which were
quite a different thing: the socii were armed in the
Roman manner, and were true legions; whilst the
auxilia were formed into cohorts, and for the most part
retained their national weapons.
There must now have been something which led the
Belgians to dread that Cæsar would attack them: from
44his Commentaries, it appears as if the Gallic peoples had
always been mistrustful and ill-disposed, without any
reason at all. All the Belgians between the Seine, the
Marne, and the Rhine, with the exception of the Remi—who
were the most distinguished among them—were
arrayed in arms against the Romans. I suppose that
the Remi intrigued with these last, that they might
thus get the other Belgian tribes under their clientship.
The weakness of the Gallic and Belgian nations lay in
their not having a free population: they had only priests
(Druids), knights, and serfs. These last on many occasions
could not forget that they were fighting only for
their masters, and not for their country, although they
often indeed behaved bravely;—sometimes they even
fought with the courage of lions, but there was no steadfastness
in it. Of a people like the Nervians, one might
almost surmise that they had no serfs. This Belgian
war Cæsar decided in two battles, on the Aisne and on
the Sombre; whereupon he invaded Brabant, then the
country of the Nervians. They stood their ground
most nobly, but yet they were almost entirely exterminated.
The Æduans and the Arvernians now silently acknowledged
the supremacy of the Romans; and most of the
peoples of Gaul, as far as the Ocean, were completely
subdued. Cæsar was already spreading his troops in
extensive winter-quarters among the Belgians, from
whom he expected to meet with a stouter resistance.
Thus he got into collision with the Germans, the Usipetes
and the Tenchteri, having crossed the Rhine, and
made war against the Belgians on the Meuse. Ever ready
to take advantage of such an opportunity, he fell upon
them; and here he committed the worst act of his life.
Having entered into negotiations with these tribes, he
got their chiefs to come to him, threw them into prison,
and then attacked the host which he had thus deprived
of its leaders—a base deed which he tries in
vain to justify. This business was brought before the
45senate. Cato was for having Cæsar given up to the
Germans as one who had broken the law of nations, a
motion which of course came to nothing.
He also turned himself against the Veneti in Brittany,
a seafaring people at the mouth of the Loire: on
this river, he built a fleet with which he overpowered
them. The whole of this campaign was conducted by
him with remarkable skill; yet here also, as in the
whole of the Gallic war, he behaved with great cruelty.
Soon afterwards, he went on his first expedition to Britain,
where the tin mines of Cornwall had already been
known for ages. Tin is even now chiefly brought from
England and the East Indies (from the peninsula of
Malacca and the island of Banca); a little only is found
in the Hartz and the Erzgebirge. The Phœnicians did
not fetch it from India. An immense quantity of tin
was used in ancient times, as it was by an alloy with it
that copper was made fusible. Brass was only of late
invention, considerably later than bronze, for the founding
of which, however, tin is required. Bronze is very
old indeed, being met with in the temple of Solomon,
and even in the tabernacle of Moses already. The trade
in tin was carried on through a twofold channel; either
by Cadiz, which was by sea the whole way, or else by
land, through Narbonne and Nantes. About the rest
of Britain nobody cared. The country at that time was
thought at Rome to be quite inaccessible, and Cæsar
became smitten with the fancy of conquering these
untrodden lands. Booty there was little to be gained
in that undertaking, as he did not go near the tin districts,
and Kent and Sussex, which he invaded, were very
poor: the Romans are said to have found there neither
gold nor silver, whereas in Gaul there was a good deal
of money in circulation. He nearly lost his ships,
which, being badly built, could hardly make their way
in these foreign seas: the ebb and flow of the tides,
especially the strong tides of the Channel, was what the
Romans knew nothing about. After having defeated
46the half-naked and badly-armed barbarians, he made
their seeming submission a pretext for going away
again. A second expedition was as unsuccessful: yet
he penetrated beyond the Thames, above London, very
likely to the neighbourhood of Windsor, got some hostages,
and returned. Scarcely, however, had he left the
island, when that show of obedience ceased.
Twice also did Cæsar cross the Rhine, and that in
our own neighbourhood, against the Sigambri and the
Sueves; both times, however, without obtaining any advantage.
Yet that it was possible to advance so far
into those wild forests, is much to be wondered at: as
the Westerwald is in fact the western part of that immense
tract of forests, which reached to the heart of Poland,
and for some time formed the southern border of
the Germans against the Celts. Ambition only could
have led Cæsar to seek for conquests in those countries.
While Cæsar was in Britain, the oppression of the
Romans, and the lawlessness of the soldiers, caused the
grand rising of the Eburones under Ambiorix: this was
the most propitious undertaking which this people could
have attempted. A whole legion under L. Titurius was
annihilated, and another under Q. Cicero nearly so. Had
not Cæsar given up his somewhat Quixotic expedition
to Britain, Q. Cicero would even have been utterly lost;
luckily, however, he returned. On the other hand, the
Aquitanians were conquered by Crassus; and thus Cæsar,
in the beginning of the seventh year of his proconsulship,
was master of the whole of Gaul. An insurrection
then broke out which had been long brewing, that of
Vercingetorix, and among those tribes which until then
had always been faithful to the Romans. This war, from
its vastness, from the rage and dogged determination of
the Gauls, and also on account of Cæsar’s great generalship
in it, highly deserves indeed to be read. Cæsar
here overcame, by sheer superiority of talent, armies
which far outnumbered his own. Headed by the Æduans
and Arvernians, who, before that had always been jealous
47of each other,—the Æduans, however, rose somewhat
later,—the peoples from the Saone to the Ocean,
and from the Loire to the Cevennes, were in open revolt:
the Arvernian Vercingetorix showed himself
worthy of the choice which his nation had made of him.
The outbreak of the war was attended with barbarity
and cruelty: in Genabum, the present Orleans, all the
Romans who happened to be there, were massacred.
Cæsar was then in the north of Gaul; but he instantly
started for the south, the Belgians in his rear remaining
perfectly still. He reduced Orleans and avenged
the murder of the Romans, and he also took Bourges,
after a long siege and a very brave defence: then
he penetrated into what is now Auvergne. Near Gergovia,
above Clermont, the war was for some time at a
stand. Cæsar himself suffered a defeat, in which he lost
a legion, and found himself obliged to raise the siege.
The Æduans also having now risen, the seat of war was
transferred to Alesia, between Autun and Langres, in
their country. This town, into which many thousand
Gauls had thrown themselves, Cæsar besieged with the
utmost skill: on the other hand, he was pressed upon
by the great Vercingetorix with a powerful army. In
one of those skirmishes which took place in many points
with varying success, Cæsar was once made prisoner
by the Gauls; but good luck, or rather providence,
which had destined him to great things, enabled him to
escape owing to the folly of a Gaul. This was the account
which Cæsar himself gave of this matter.[9] But
it is much more likely, that just as Napoleon, in May
1800, bribed an Austrian patrol into the hands of which
he had fallen when reconnoitring, Cæsar also got off by
offering money to a Gallic soldier. If he told the man
that he would give him a million, the fellow would be
sure to let him go free, as Vercingetorix would at
most have given him a dram. When, however at last
48the war was protracted, and the famine in Alesia had
risen to the highest, so that the troops of the Gauls became
discontented and deserted; Vercingetorix had the
nobleness of mind to stand forth in the city, and say,
“that they should yield him up on condition that their
lives were spared.” This stamps him as one of the greatest
men of antiquity. He went and gave himself up to
Cæsar, who again behaved vilely. Though Cæsar ought
to have been more than a common Roman, and to have
treated him generously, sending him to a libera custodia;
he bound him in chains, kept him for his triumph,
and then had him put to death. This is one of those
stains from which indeed Cæsar is not free.
After this, there were still some smaller insurrections.
There was a rising of the Belgians, but the time for it
was past; and moreover there was one of the Bellovaci,
in the neighbourhood of Beauvais and Chartres: yet it
was now very easy for Cæsar to conquer them. We see
clearly that it was the will of Providence to make the
Roman Empire great, and to gather all the nations then
known under its sway. Had Vercingetorix, who could
not have been unacquainted with the state of affairs at
Rome, kept back the outbreak in Gaul for a couple of
years, until the heartburnings between Cæsar and Pompey
had brought on the civil war, Gaul might perhaps
have recovered her freedom.
CIVIL WAR BETWEEN CÆSAR AND POMPEY.
The way in which Cæsar was situated with regard to
the republic at the end of his time in Gaul, was indeed
so unhappy, that it was not in the power of man to bring
matters to a good and joyful issue. If it was difficult
even for Scipio, after his victory, to live as a citizen,
and he did not quite know how to conduct himself;
how much more for a man who, for nearly ten years,
49had been used to rule over vast tracts of country with
the absolute power of a prince. Such a habit is hard
to get rid of, as we may perceive in the less important
things of our every-day life, wherein the change from
one situation to another is often fraught with endless
difficulties. All that Cæsar could have got lawfully,
was a second consulship: this, however, as affairs then
stood, was nothing but an empty honour; for what
could he have done with himself and with the republic?
He could indeed have only employed his great intellectual
faculties by devoting himself in utter retirement
to study. He had not been in Rome for ten years; and
all that he heard from thence from those who came to
him, was hateful to him, and showed him the government
in a contemptible light. To live on a footing of equality
with inferior, and some of them bad men, was what he
could not think of without disgust. Matters therefore
were in such confusion, that they could not possibly
have righted. His opponents, instead of taking steps
towards reconciliation, showed, on the contrary, symptoms
which must have vexed him to the utmost. M.
Marcellus, the consul of the year 701, let slip no
occasion of annoying Cæsar: for instance, he had caused
a man from Como, to whom Cæsar, by virtue of the
full powers given him, had granted the citizenship,
to be flogged like a common criminal, merely to
insult and mock at Cæsar. In the following year,
C. Marcellus, a cousin of the former, was consul
with L. Æmilius Paullus, C. Scribonius Curio, being
also tribune at the same time. Of him we have still
some letters among those of Cicero: he was a young
man of great talent, but of the most consummate profligacy.
At first, owing to his family connexions, he
belonged to Pompey’s party; and he was then considered
as even a decided and very bitter enemy of Cæsar.
But Cæsar knew that Curio was over head and ears
in debt,—as much as two million dollars, we are told,
which may give us some measure of the magnitude
50of the Roman fortunes, as well as of the vice and prodigality
of the times,—and he is said to have gained
him over by paying his debts. He likewise bought
over the consul Æmilius Paullus with an immense sum:
from this we may see what a mockery of a government
the system of provincial administration was. The accounts
were only given in after the triumph had been
celebrated: this had been the case since the earliest times,
and it still remained so, even now that the imperia were
held for such long periods. What the proconsul had
gotten for himself, was not thought worth looking into:
he had merely to show that he owed nothing to the
army, and to account for what the senate had placed
at his disposal from the ærarium. Æmilius Paullus
built with those millions the Basilica Æmilia in the
Forum, an edifice to which those noble pillars undoubtedly
belonged, which, as Nibby supposes, stood in
the Church of St. Paul until the calamitous fire in the
year 1823.[10] Curio was uncommonly clever and adroit,
and he put on an air of perfect impartiality: at first, he
even sided against Cæsar; then, against both Cæsar and
Pompey; at last, he flung off the mask, and declared
for Cæsar.
With the next year, Cæsar’s proconsulship was to expire.
He now, after a lapse of ten years, stood for a
second consulship, and asked for a triumph beforehand;
so that he might keep his army together, and disband
it when that was over, as Pompey had done after the
war with Mithridates. He wanted to be allowed to become
a candidate at the consular election while still in
his province,—an irregularity which had crept in during
the seventh century,—and then to lead his army
to Rome, and triumph. To prevent such a thing, it
had been the rule, we do not know for how long, that
no one who had an army should stand for the consulship.
His opponents therefore demanded that he should
51lay down the imperium; disband his troops, that is to
say, give up his triumph; and stand for the consulship
as a private person. Had he thus delivered himself into
the hands of his enemies, he was convinced that he
would have lost his life. Curio now moved that
Cæsar and Pompey should both disband their troops,
and come to Rome as private persons; which was the
fairest proposal. But the friends of Pompey maintained
that, as the term of his imperium was not yet come to
an end, he ought not to be placed on an equal footing
with Cæsar. It was the misfortune of Italy that Pompey,
who was dangerously ill, did not then die: he was
indeed so popular, or so dreaded, that all Italy prayed
for his recovery. Pompey seemingly was ready to submit
to the humiliation, though indeed he complained
bitterly of the slight put upon him. Curio’s motion was
carried by a majority of three hundred against about
twenty;[11] but the consul Marcellus cancelled the decree.
The aristocrats of that day professed to uphold
the decrees of the senate, whereas in reality they wanted
to rule the senate with a rod of iron; and so they
did not even scorn the help of the rabble, being in every
sense of the word populaciers, if it suited their ends:
they would raise an outcry against rebellion, and yet
they were the rankest revolutionists, if matters did not
go on quite as they wished. Thus the party of Lamennais,
as soon as the government does anything that they
dislike, at once begin to preach regicide and revolution.
I have heard men of the extreme right in France talking
like Jacobins, uttering it as their opinion that the
people of the very lowest class were gifted with an immense
deal of sense, and that they showed the highest
interest in the welfare of the country. Curio also did
not make his proposal from any good motive: this he
cannot have credit for, being one of those to whom the
worst confusion is the most welcome state of things.
52The next year, the tribunes were all of them the
hireling creatures of Cæsar; and among these was he
who was afterwards the frightful triumvir Antony.
Pompey had received the command of Italy, and been
authorized by the senate to raise an army for its safety,
which, however, he was too indolent to do. On the first
of January, in the year 703, the distribution of the provinces
was again discussed in the senate; and as Pompey
had troops in the city, it was decreed under his influence,
that Cæsar should lay down his imperium. The
tribunes protested; but so far was their protest from
being heeded, that they were even threatened with personal
violence by the consuls: having perhaps magnified
the danger, they fled to Cæsar at Ravenna, on the frontier
of the province of Gaul. Cispadane Gaul had, at
that time already got the Roman franchise; but it
belonged notwithstanding to Cæsar’s province. At
Rome, Pompey and his friends swallowed the most absurd
reports. It was said that Cæsar’s army was most
highly disaffected, that it wanted to be disbanded; that
it was weak in numbers; that it was worn out by wars:—in
short they believed whatever they wished. Cæsar
had in those parts not more than five thousand men
with him, partly in order not to alarm the province,
partly because he did not wish to strip Gaul of troops;
now, at length, he gave orders that every one should
march. What is indeed most inconceivable, is that the
Gauls were now quite still, and did not move, whereas
they had revolted when they had ten legions to keep
them down: they very likely thought that the Romans
would themselves destroy each other. Cæsar had before
that already given up two legions, which were to go to
Syria. Even at the end of the year, he was still negociating:
he had offered to retain the command of Illyricum
and Gallia Cispadana only, with two legions, or
even one alone, on the sole condition that Pompey
should likewise resign his imperium. All was, however,
rejected: Pompey was to be left entirely out of the question,
53and the letter of the law was to be carried out.
Now that the tribunes had arrived at Ravenna, the
senatus consultum was brought, in which Cæsar was ordered
to come to Rome, and to give up his army to
Domitius Ahenobarbus: this made him afraid of being
prosecuted as soon as ever he came to Rome by himself.
Passion then got the better of him, and he resolved upon
starting for Ariminum. It is probably on the other side
of Ariminum, in the neighbourhood of Cesena, that the
bridge over the Rubicon was: the people about these
places disagree as to which of the small rivers was the
Rubicon. He was still wavering, not knowing whether
he should sacrifice himself, or violate the law and save
his life; for even then he seems to have thought much
more of his safety than of dominion. There he stood in
deep emotion, until he made up his mind to cross the
river. Thus he arrived at Ariminum, which had opened
its gates to him. In all that part of the country, nothing
was prepared against him: people fancied that
the times had not changed; and that the troops would
abandon Cæsar, and go over to Pompey, because the
latter had formerly been so popular with them. But
Pompey had had his day; Cæsar’s soldiers even shared
the emulation of their general, and were proud of their
victories. There is not a more remarkable contrast
than that which thirty years had brought about. Sylla’s
war had lasted even to the third year, and throughout
Italy the two parties were struggling most fiercely
against each other; but now, there was not a man who
cared so much as to raise his hand. Cæsar’s small army
overran the whole of Italy, without meeting with any
resistance, as would also happen in these days: the
habits of the municipal towns were at that time quite
as unwarlike as those of modern Italy. It may have
had something to do with it, that Sylla’s legions in the
military colonies were no longer inclined to such a civil
war: from party motives, they ought in fact to have
sided with Pompey; but it was perhaps the great general
54whom they liked best. What, however, turned the
scale, was the utter want of any thing like public feeling:
people no longer felt any interest either for one
party or the other, as they were perfectly aware that
there was now no regard for law, and that matters could
not become much worse; and to lose life and limb for
Pompey’s sake alone, was what they were by no means
willing to do. Pompey had hoped to make an effect
upon the people by high sounding words, and to pass off
shadows for realities: no soldier’s heart could have beaten
for him, as it might indeed for Cæsar. He had given
himself airs as if he could have raised legions by stamping
on the ground; but when he heard that Cæsar was already
marching on the Via Flaminia, he as well as the
senators had no other thought but that of flight. They
had only a small army under the command of Domitius
Ahenobarbus, the one who was to have taken Cæsar’s
province. The latter now reached Rome without any
further check. A short time before, Cicero had returned
from Cilicia, and he was now the mediator of a peace;
but although his counsels were the very justest and
wisest, no one would listen to him. Pompey’s party
took it into their heads, that at present it was much
better not to defend themselves at Rome; that they
ought by all means to let Cæsar make himself hateful
in Italy; and that Pompey, whose lieutenants, M. Petreius
and Afranius, were in possession of Spain, should
draw all his forces (seven legions) thence, and concentrate
them in Greece, and call to his aid all the
moneyed resources of the east: Spain and Africa were
theirs; Gaul would likewise declare against Cæsar;
and the reaction could not fail to come. Thus they
calculated very nicely, how they were to crush Cæsar
in Italy. Pompey now went to Brundusium, and with
him all the troops which had not fallen off. L. Domitius
was besieged by Cæsar in Corfinium, on which
his men made a capitulation for themselves. Cæsar
gladly took most of them into his own army, and allowed
55the rest to go whithersoever they liked; thus leaving
every one the choice of rising for him or keeping quiet.
Domitius was completely deserted. At Rome, Cæsar
was waited for with fear and trembling. Pompey had
declared that whosoever was not with him, was against
him; and every one who wished to stay in Rome, was
threatened by his partisans with prosecution and proscription
after the victory. From Cicero’s letters, one
may see the monstrous way in which the Pompeians
wanted to tyrannize over the opinions of the people.
Cæsar went from Corfinium to Brundusium. Pompey
had wanted to keep this town, that he might have
an arsenal, and a landing-place in Italy; and he hoped
that his rival would not venture upon besieging it.
Cæsar had hardly a ship, while Pompey, who was master
of the east, had at his command the whole of the
seafaring part of the world then known. The latter
had collected his fleet in the harbour of Brundusium,
where Cæsar attacked him with such resolution, that,
having the open sea behind him, and ships at hand, he
was obliged to withdraw from the place, and to betake
himself to Illyricum. This was of great importance to
Cæsar, as Brundusium was faithful to the Syllanian interest,
which Pompey represented. Cæsar now had the
treasury at Rome forced open, as the keys had been put
out of the way: he took out the money, nominated magistrates,
and dealt as an absolute monarch with the
opposition of those who, like the tribune Metellus,
wanted to play the farce of liberty. The people of the
capital now expected scenes like those which had been
witnessed in the time of his uncle Marius; but whoever
chose to trust him was quite safe: he did not even utter
a bitter word against any one. But it was not the same
in Italy, whenever he could not be present; for his
soldiers, and not a few of his officers, committed a great
number of outrages, owing to which the feelings of
many were turned against him. With his wonted great
activity, after having arranged at Rome all that was to
56be settled, he went through the south of Gaul to Spain,
where the generals did not even march to meet him, or
block up the way over the Pyrenees. His army was far
less than that of his opponents, which consisted of seven
legions; and he even left part of it behind for the siege
of Marseilles, that city having wanted to keep neutral.
He may have had some particular reason to be hard
upon it, and perhaps he still bore it an old grudge: he
now called upon it to declare for him, and on its refusal,
he detached two legates to attack the place. The description
of this siege in the second book of the Bellum
Civile is very interesting, as it shows us the system then
in use, which was very different from the Greek one.
After a long siege, and not till Cæsar’s return from
Spain, the Massilians were forced to surrender. Cæsar
did not destroy the town, nor was he guilty of any outrage
against it; but the inhabitants had to give up
their arms, and had long to suffer the loss of their freedom.
The triumph over the Massilians is one of the
most shameful things ever done, as they had always been
the staunch allies of the Romans.
Afranius and Petreius made a stand against Cæsar
near Lerida in Catalonia, and he had to employ the whole
of his art, the victory which he gained being properly
speaking, a moral one: he caused such a desertion in
their army, that they were obliged to treat. Afranius,
a commonplace man, was for coming to terms, but Petreius
spurned the very thought: he even inflicted heavy
punishments on the soldiers who wanted to place themselves
in communication with Cæsar. This was, however,
of no avail: he saw that the legions would desert
him altogether. The two leaders therefore made a capitulation
for themselves, and for M. Varro, by which
they agreed to evacuate the whole of Spain; and they
were allowed to go free with those who did not wish to
serve under Cæsar, which, however, most of the men did.
Thus Cæsar became master of the whole of Spain.
Cato had left Sicily, of which he had had the government
57as prætor, and Curio had taken the command
there. The latter went from thence to Africa, where
he was opposed by the Pompeian general Varus, and by
Juba king of Mauritania, a client of Pompey. This expedition
of Curio’s came to a sad end, partly owing to
the desertion which broke out among his legions, partly
owing to his unskilful generalship, and to various disasters.
Curio at last was killed in a battle with Juba,
and most of his soldiers were scattered and cut to
pieces: some of them made their escape to Sicily.
Cæsar had nominated himself dictator; in what form,
cannot be made out with certainty, there being much
discrepancy in the accounts which we have. He did
everything as expeditiously as possible, and he passed
several welcome and just laws. Among others was one
concerning debts; a thing which is always necessary
whenever there is an extraordinary fall in the value of
every kind of property, so that a debt in money ceases
to be what its nominal value expresses. A commission
was appointed, before which all who had land in Italy
might have it estimated, and thus made available to
pay off their debts. This was often done under such
circumstances; and no doubt the statement is also true
that the interest was deducted. A number of other
enactments were also made to meet the wants of the
moment. And now that he had brought his army back
to Italy, and considerably strengthened it by forming
the troops which had gone over to him into legions, he
marched forthwith to Brundusium. It was already
about a year since Pompey had left Rome, and had gathered
around him all the Romans whom he had been
able to gain over: he had moreover an immense host of
auxiliaries, and a fleet with which, as Cæsar had nothing
to oppose to it, he might have been master of the
sea, had not his lieutenants been so wretched. He
wintered in Thessalonica, and his army in Macedon:
his chief strength lay in his fleet, as the people of
Rhodes and other places, and also many of the subject
58Greek towns still kept up their ships:—even the whole
naval power of Egypt was at his disposal. Having collected
all this force, he placed it under the command of
Bibulus, Cæsar’s colleague in the consulship; and thus
he hoped to make the passage by sea impracticable for
Cæsar, so that he would have to go by land through
Dalmatia, where he would have had to encounter M.
Octavius, Pompey’s best general. But in this also, Cæsar
tried to strike awe into the enemy, and he succeeded:
to reach Illyricum, he was not afraid to use whatever
vessels he had, or anything that could only float
upon the sea. Bibulus was an able man, personally
very praiseworthy, who did not neglect his duty, but
he was deficient in that peculiar activity and watchfulness
which in such cases are indispensable. One of
the distinguishing features of Cæsar is that, whenever
the utmost speed was necessary, though his forces were
not quite complete, he would, without even a moment’s
loss of time, at once strike the blow with whatever he
chanced to have at hand; and he would try and gain a
firm footing until he had collected the whole of his
army. Thus he passed over to Illyricum; and thus he
afterwards made his appearance in Egypt without the
force which could support him, and later again in
Africa: this is one of the marks of a great general, who
calculates not only what he risks, but likewise what he
can effect by it. Quite unexpectedly, he appeared with
a small squadron at Oricum, a town on the farthest
borders of Illyricum and Epirus, behind the bay of
Acroceraunia; he landed, reduced the place, and immediately
set out to attack Apollonia, which opened its
gates to him. His name went before him, nor did any
one suppose that he had only a few thousand men with
him. Near Apollonia, he took up a position; but when
an attempt of his against Dyrrachium had failed, Pompey
tried to drive him back and to surround him. As
Cæsar’s orders to send the troops immediately after
him had not been fulfilled, he tried in this dilemma
59himself to cross, in a twelve-oared boat, over the dangerous,
stormy sea; but after having struggled for a
whole day against the currents and the waves, he was
at last obliged to yield to the storm. Although his
commands to follow him were most peremptory, his
lieutenant Gabinius, whose heart failed him, disregarded
them: he went round the gulf through Dalmatia, where
he was afterwards routed by Octavius, and slain. Mark
Antony, on the contrary, who ventured to pass over,
led the troops most successfully close by Pompey’s fleet;
for Bibulus had a short time before fallen ill, and he
was now on the point of death. Thus did Antony, with
the loss of only a few ships, make his passage to Illyricum.
But for all that, Cæsar’s force was far inferior to
that of Pompey, who was stationed near Dyrrachium;
and yet he advanced against him, and ventured to hem
him in by throwing up lines and bastions round Dyrrachium.
This was an undertaking which Pompey could
very easily let him go on with; for he got his supplies
by sea, while Cæsar had no other provisions but those
which he could collect by forays into the neighbouring
country. Here Cæsar tried to finish the war; but he
was unsuccessful, being repulsed with considerable loss
in a coup de main against Dyrrachium: Pompey showed
determination, and made himself master of part of
the lines, so that the blockade had to be given up. The
soldiers were so disheartened that day, that Cæsar despaired
of the issue: they were certainly in a wretched
plight, as they had to feed on grass and roots. Grass
means here as much as salad: the poor in the south
very often eat such herbs with vinegar and oil, which
indeed the soldiers had to do without. Cæsar afterwards
said, that he would have been routed on that day;
and that Pompey would have conquered, if he had known
how to make use of his victory. But Pompey had
grown sluggish, and he had lost the faculty of doing
anything to justify the pretensions which he put forth.
After this rebuff, Cæsar was unable to go on with the
60war there any more; and so he ventured upon an
expedition which, had it failed, would quite as much
have been classed among fool-hardy freaks as the march
of Charles XII. to Pultawa. Leaving Pompey in his
rear, he betook himself to a country where he had nothing
to rely upon, but every inch of ground to conquer:
he broke up from Dyrrachium. No doubt Pompey
expected that he would now turn towards Illyricum, and
there unite himself with the troops of his party: but far
from doing this, he went to the high mountain ranges
between Epirus and Thessaly, and without stopping, to
Gomphi, near the pass from Janina to Thessaly, and
took it by storm. By this means, he restored the confidence
of his soldiers, as they refreshed themselves with
the booty. The panic caused by the destruction of this
town, opened to him the whole of Thessaly. Pompey,
who had such a superior force of soldiers, ought now to
have gone to Italy; and the more so, as those legions
of Cæsar’s which had been formed of the troops which
had gone over to him in Spain, had partly become mutinous
again, while Cæsar, with the fleet which he had,
could never have reached Italy. But those who were
about Pompey, were now so full of joy at Cæsar’s having
got into a trap by going into countries from which
he had no way out, that they went after him. Terror,
however, paved the way for Cæsar: he was quite comfortably
off in luxurious Thessaly, and having everything
in plenty, he was enabled to recover himself. He
took up his position near the rich town of Pharsalus,
where for some days the two armies were facing each
other, and manœuvring: he again got into a very bad
plight, as he was in want of provisions, and Pompey’s
cavalry was much stronger than his own. Here again
it was now the opinion of the cautious, that Cæsar’s
army should be allowed to wear itself out more and
more by the distress in which it was; and this was the
opinion of Pompey himself. But his followers were so
childishly intoxicated with their hopes of victory, that
61they looked upon this judicious advice as disgraceful.
The senators, who knew nothing whatever of war, deliberated
with regard to the battle, how they would
after the victory divide the advantages among themselves;
and growing warm, they quarrelled together
about who was to have the pontificate and the other
offices of Cæsar, and also the estates of his partisans
about to be proscribed. Cæsar was very anxious for a
speedy decision, being most confident of victory; for he
despised Pompey, such as he was then, and all his officers,
They, on their side, deemed it a shame to delay
the battle; and they forced it on in such haste, that
Cæsar had hardly time to call back three legions which
he had sent out to forage.
Of this battle there are very different accounts, the
best of which of course is that of Cæsar himself; but
we may believe Asinius Pollio that the numbers which
he gives are exaggerated. We may take it for granted,
that Cæsar had no more than twenty-two thousand infantry
against forty thousand infantry of Pompey, who
had also an immense number of Greeks and Asiatics as
auxilia: these, however, were of no use whatever, being
somewhat ashamed to display their incapacity on a
field where Romans were arrayed against each other.
In cavalry also, Pompey was far superior to Cæsar in
numbers; but the latter had Gallic and German horse,
whilst Pompey had young Roman volunteers, who perhaps
faced an enemy for the first time, and were like
children against a host of veterans. The story of the
faciem feri, miles! is not to be taken literally. Cæsar
had also trained his infantry to stand the shock of the
cavalry, and the onset of the Pompeians was repulsed
by the cohorts; he then made the Gallic and German
cavalry charge the enemy, which decided the battle:
they broke Pompey’s left wing, so that his right, which
until then had fought with considerable success, was
likewise forced to retire. All fled into the camp, and
there these foolish men believed that the day was now
62over. But when they saw that the foe did not stop at
all to plunder, and that in close order they were attacking
the camp, the greatest confusion and rout ensued;
Pompey started up like a madman, and calling out,
“Not even here will they leave us quiet!” ran away.
All dispersed, no one thinking of rallying so much as
one cohort. The booty was immense, as the camp of
Pompey was found to be furnished with Asiatic luxury;
the tents were bowers, fitted up with carpets and costly
furniture. The Gauls and Germans gladly availed themselves
of the opportunity to revenge themselves on the
Romans: but Cæsar had already issued an order during
the battle, that no one should be hurt who did not flee
nor offer any resistance; and thus most of them threw
away their arms, and whole cohorts surrendered. It is
known from Foggini’s Kalendarium, that the battle was
fought on the tenth of August,[12] according to the calendar
of that time: this cannot indeed be the real day,
which at all events ought to be dated in June.
Pompey fled to Larissa, and having got on board a
ship, arrived at Mitylene, where his wife Cornelia was
staying: his intention was to go to Cilicia and Cyprus,
and from thence to the Parthians, a most shameful resolution!
This, however, was opposed by his friends,
and he saw no other plan, but to flee to Egypt. The
right thing would have been to have gone to his fleet
which was still untouched, and with it to maintain
Africa; but his spirit was quite broken, and he determined
to apply to the king of Egypt. Ptolemy Auletes,
whom Gabinius had restored with Pompey’s connivance,
was dead: as he was under obligations to Pompey, he
had sent him a fleet, which, however, had now returned
home after the battle. He had left two daughters,
Cleopatra and Arsinoë, and two sons, who were
63younger: one of these had somewhat passed boyhood,
while the other was still a child. The elder of the sons
was by his will, according to the custom of incest which
was rife among those Macedonian kings of Alexandria,
to marry his eldest sister Cleopatra, and to rule with
her in common; but being very imperious, and wanting
to have everything for himself, he expelled her, and war
broke out. She fled to Syria; and on the borders of
Syria and Egypt, near Mount Casius, Ptolemy also,
with his guardians Pothinus and Achillas was encamped.
Pompey’s unlucky star brought him to this very
coast. On this, L. Septimius, who had been left by
Gabinius as commander in Egypt, advised Ptolemy to
murder Pompey, and by this sacrifice to bribe Cæsar
to give him the crown of Egypt. Such advice was quite
to the taste of those Alexandrian rulers. L. Septimius
was sent with a boat to go out and receive Pompey.
Though all his companions had their suspicions roused,
and he himself felt uneasy, yet Pompey was so entirely
without a will of his own, and so stupified, that after all
he chose to go into the boat: there he was stabbed, and
his corpse was cast unburied on the strand.
Cæsar, continuing his pursuit without stopping, hastened
with a few followers to Egypt; another great piece
of daring! On his arrival, they brought him the head
and ring of Pompey: history has not forgotten his tears.
I will not deny that this death saved him from some
anxiety; for how could he have made peace with Pompey?—the
war could not end in any other way, but
with his destruction;—yet for all that, judging from
the disposition of Cæsar’s heart, I believe that his tears
were sincere. He buried Pompey: to have erected a
monument would have looked like a farce; but his
family raised a small, humble monument over him. The
name of the Pompeii still existed to the time of Tiberius;
then it disappears. The emperor Hadrian found
the statue taken away, and set up in a neighbouring
temple, the monument itself being nearly buried in the
64sand; and he had it restored. An epigram on the subject,
consisting of two distichs, is one of the most beautiful
left us from antiquity: it is certainly genuine, although
the second half has been called in question.
Cæsar now went to Alexandria whither his troops
were to follow him; but his orders could not be carried
across to Rhodes, as in the Mediterranean the Etesian
gales blow from the north-west for about fifty or sixty
days, until the dogdays, and the ships could not work
their way against the wind. In the meanwhile, Cæsar
had to stay in Alexandria among the most insolent
and licentious populace in the world, one in which the
vices of the east and the west were combined: the
Macedonian Greek population had been mostly exterminated
in the reign of Ptolemy Physcon, and the Alexandrine-Egyptians
only remained, who were a detestable
race. This rabble now became bold: as Cæsar had only
so few with him, the eunuch Pothinus, the regent at
that time, resolved to overpower him. Cæsar was in
possession of the royal palace, where he entrenched himself
as Ferdinand Cortez did in Mexico. An insurrection
broke out; and the palace was set fire to, on which
occasion the library of Ptolemy Philadelphus was burnt:
the struggle in the streets was terrific. The account of
how Cæsar then maintained himself,—making head
against the immense danger which assailed him; destroying
the entrance to the harbour to the dismay of
the Alexandrians; taking the island of Pharos, and holding
his ground there until he got reinforcements;—is
given by Hirtius in a most graphic and attractive style.
At last, Cæsar succeeded in making himself master of
Alexandria, and the elder Ptolemy was accidentally
65drowned in the Nile: in short, the Alexandrians surrendered,
and Cæsar, glad to have done with the war,
declared Cleopatra queen, by whose arts he had been
enslaved, and bestowed upon her the whole of the
country.
Having now learned that Pharnaces king of Bosporus
had invaded Pontus, and defeated Domitius,
one of his legates; he hastened thither, attacked the
enemy on the very day that he came up, without even
allowing his troops to rest, and the Asiatics were routed
and scattered. It was then that he wrote to Rome the
celebrated “Veni, vidi, vici.”
Cæsar now, for the first time since his departure from
Brundusium, returned to Rome; and there he set many
things to rights. He paid great regard to his adherents,
and also appointed a provisional government, which
was much wanted; for his party was a medley of all
sorts of people, who aimed at the most different ends
and objects, and during his absence had undertaken
the most contradictory things. In the meanwhile, the
insurrection of Milo, Cælius Rufus, and Dolabella, had
taken place, and been quickly put down: of this I shall
say more further on.
He did not wait long at Rome. Servility proffered
him the next extravagant honours; the whole power of
the state was given him. Yet it must be said that
men’s minds were very favourably disposed towards him
on account of his unexpected mildness, whereas Pompey,
had he been victorious, would undoubtedly have
shed seas of blood. As far as he possibly could, he protected
every one of the opposite party; and he also told
the chief men about him, that each of them had free
leave to rescue one of the proscribed, and all such were
reinstated in their honours: with respect to their property,
however, these had much to suffer, as it was not
in his power to put a stop to all the robberies of his
partisans. A great number indeed, still remained in
exile; yet by degrees he let them all return.—The
66honours granted him by the senate, were bestowed
three different times: I shall treat of them collectively
when we come to his last stay in Rome.
While he was still at Rome, he had to deal with a
most dangerous commotion among his troops, who were
eagerly waiting for their triumph. His favourite legion,
the tenth, which he had left behind in Italy that he might
take it with him to Africa, broke out in open mutiny;
and the veterans demanded, not only the payment of
their arrears, but also the money and allotments of land
which had been promised them. Sallust, whom Cæsar
had sent to them, was ill-treated, and some senators
were slain: the danger therefore was great. Cæsar had
then the courage to let them come to Rome: he ordered
them to lay aside their pila, but to keep their swords;
and now he fearlessly made his appearance in the midst
of them. When he harangued them in the Forum, his
intrepidity, and the confidence which he showed in them,
made such an impression on them, that they became
quite tame. He treated them with contempt, addressed
them as Quirites, and announced to them that he dismissed
them: he would, however, allow those who
wished to share the honour of the campaign to enlist.
Upon this, all those who before had been loudly clamouring
for their dismissal, almost with one voice entreated
him to let them continue in his service.
He again went with a small army to Africa, where
Cato and Q. Scipio, the father-in-law of Pompey, Afranius
and Petreius, stood forth as the leaders of the whole
party. Cato had not been present at the battle of Pharsalus:
he had gone from Dyrrachium to Corcyra, and
from thence to Cyrene. Here he got together a number
of scattered Romans; but his army was much more
distinguished for the rank, than for the bravery of its
soldiers. Cyrene had hardly the honour of being a Roman
province; there he was quite cut off from the rest
of the world: he therefore made one of the most dreadful
of forced marches, through the African desert all round
67the Syrtes, by Tripolis to the province of Africa. He was
offered the chief command of the army, which was a
respectable one; but he declined it, and only kept the
command of Utica. Allied with him was Juba of Numidia,
who ruled over the greater part of Jugurtha’s
empire: in Mauritania, Bogud was king. In the latter
country, there was also a Roman adventurer, P. Sitius
of Nuceria, a remarkable character, and a man of great
energy: he had formed a regiment of stray fugitives
and deserters, which had gotten king Bogud the victory
against Juba, and the ascendency in Africa. (I
have treated of this Sitius in my edition of Fronto.) He
attached himself to Cæsar, who promised to restore him
to his civil rights; and he made war upon Juba, while
Cæsar established himself in Tunis. The latter, having
gradually received the reinforcements for which he was
waiting, marched likewise against his foes. The campaign
lasted several months without being decided,
until Cæsar took his position near Thapsus, a peninsula
with a fortified town. The enemy under Petreius, Afranius,
Scipio, and Juba, occupied the isthmus, surrounding
him with overwhelming numbers, and thus
cutting him off from the mainland. But Cæsar broke
through, first defeated the Romans, and then Juba, on
the same day, and scattered their hosts. As soon as
the battle was won, the soldiers went over to him in
throngs: Juba was so utterly done for, that he fled
from his kingdom. All was lost: Juba and Petreius
took away each other’s life; Cato remained behind in
Utica with a Roman garrison.
If there be indeed a great man in Roman history who
deserves his fame, it is Cato. Cæsar has tried to disparage
his virtue; but this arose from a pardonable
feeling of irritation. After Cato’s death, Cicero wrote
his celebrated laudatio M. Catonis;—would to heaven
that we had it still! we should be able to discover from
it Cicero’s inmost soul. This work does great honour,
as well to Cicero, for having had the courage to write it,
68as to Cæsar for having borne with it: one sees how sincerely
people believed in Cæsar’s magnanimity. When
Cæsar says that Cato had harmed him by his death, as
he had thus robbed him of the pleasure of pardoning
him, not a word can be added: on the other hand, one
may easily believe that Cæsar still felt hurt by Cicero’s
eulogium. He therefore wrote the Anti-Cato, in which he
may have displayed a bitterness of passion which in real
life, he would certainly have as little shown to Cicero
as to Cato himself. There was nothing that he so much
wished for as Cato’s friendship, though indeed Cato
could not have given it him. The Stoic philosophy did
not raise up any heroes among the Greeks, except the
great founders Zeno and Cleanthes himself; but while
not one Greek statesman professed it, among the Romans,
all the great and virtuous public men were either
its disciples, or at least, like Cicero, its admirers. It
would be the most detestable misconstruing of human
virtue, to call Cato’s integrity in question; yet it is
quite another thing to say that Cato, with his principles
and his philosophy, did infinite harm to the commonwealth.
He wanted stoutly to uphold every existing
institution, and to allow of nothing that bordered upon
arbitrary power. It is well known that Cato estranged
the Roman knights from the senate, and made enemies
of them, thus tearing open the wound which Cicero with
very great difficulty had succeeded in closing: he refused
to grant the publicani a request which was not at
all an unfair one, merely because he deemed that this
would be favouring them. This caused a breach which
was never healed. On another occasion, Cato was for
voting the execution of Catiline and his accomplices;
which was quite in accordance with the laws, but a
most unhappy measure for the republic. He did not
pay the least regard to existing circumstances, and the
consequence was, that he made them much worse. But
his personal character was above all blame: profligates
69might rail at him; but no one dared to slander him,
and in this he stood above those times.
Cato had found little happiness in his party, even
when Pompey was alive; and now that he was dead,
his situation was quite wretched. They were going on
in Africa in the most savage manner, and it was with
very great trouble indeed that he saved Utica: they had
wanted to plunder it, on pretence of the inhabitants
being friendly to Cæsar, but in reality to preserve the
goodwill of the soldiers. For this, the inhabitants of
Utica considered Cato as their saviour, and the town
remained quiet, as he had pledged himself that it should.
When Cæsar appeared before Utica, Cato advised every
one not to prolong their resistance. The generals, and
those who were able to bear arms, had fled; so that the
garrison consisted mostly of old people and gentlemen
of rank: he therefore counselled them to throw themselves
on Cæsar’s mercy, bidding even his own son go
out and do it. Here he in a fine manner showed himself
inconsistent, the father getting the better of the
Stoic: he said that he could not indeed live now, he who
had seen the better days of the republic; but that his
son, who had never known the republic, might embark
in the new state of things. The night before the town
was to open its gates, he retired to his room and read
the Phædo, surely not to find in it the strengthening of
his belief in the immortality of the soul, and of his
hopes:—of this he had no need; for as a Stoic he believed
in immortality, and moreover the Phædo itself
does not give this faith to those who have it not:—but
as in terrible moments one must find breathing-room
for one’s feelings, so he sought for support in the example
of a great man, and he very likely was much
more taken up with that part of the work in which Socrates’
death is told. He took leave of the world, turning
his mind to the contemplation of the last hours of
one of the most virtuous men on earth.
He then gave himself the deadly wound. But he fell
70from the bed in the agonies of death; and when his son
and his friends tried to recover him, having pretended
to slumber, he tore the wound open, and let his bowels
gush out.—The reduction of the other towns was easy
enough.
The son of Juba surrendered to Cæsar, and afterwards
had such an excellent education bestowed upon him at
Rome, that he became one of the most learned men of
his time. As he undoubtedly was master of the Punic
language, the loss of his books on historical and geographical
topics, is very much to be regretted; for in the
historical ones, he must have given the substance of
what the Carthaginians have written.
At Rome, there was a quarrel between Antony and
Dolabella, the son-in-law of Cicero, to whom he caused
much grief: both of them were equally bad. Cæsar
therefore went thither, and quieted them. From thence
the successes of Cneius and Sextus, the sons of Pompey,
again called him away to Spain, whither these had betaken
themselves from Africa, that they might join a
newly formed legion of his which had revolted. Southern
Spain had taken up arms for the Pompeians; but not
with hearty agreement among themselves, as in the days
of Sertorius. This struggle was by far the hardest of
any which Cæsar had to go through; it is quite extraordinary,
how, when all was exhausted, the people now
fought with a rage which had not been seen until then.
The beginning of this war may be read in the barbarously
written Bellum Hispaniense. After Cæsar had
been obliged for several months to put forth all the resources
of his mind, to carry on the war within a very
limited area in Andalusia and Grenada: the seat of the
contest was chiefly in the exceedingly strong fastnesses
of the mountains north of Grenada. Cneius had the
chief command, and he showed himself here a far more
able general than his father had been. In the battle
near Munda, the anniversary of which was yesterday
(March 17), Cæsar’s fate hung upon a thread: his troops
71were breaking, and he was already giving up all for lost,
when in his despair he jumped from his horse, and
placed himself in the way of the fugitives, calling out
to them that if they wished to flee, they should cut him
down, and not oblige him to outlive such a day. Suwarow
behaved very much in the same way at the battle
of Kinburn, in the year 1787, when his soldiers refused
obedience in an undertaking which he had ordered,
because they thought themselves lost. As they now were
flying, he cried out to them, “Run, run, and leave your
general to the Turks, as a keepsake of your cowardice!”
With the greatest trouble, Cæsar stopped his soldiers;
but thus he only restored the battle, and he owed his
victory to the Mauritanian auxiliaries, who attacked
and plundered the Pompeian camp, which was hardly
guarded at all. For when Labienus marched with a
legion against them, to save the camp and drive them
off, the other troops, thinking this to be a retreat, fell
back, but did not run. Cæsar had, after the battle, to destroy
them one by one: Cneius was wounded and cut
down; Sextus remained with the Celtiberians, among
whom he hid himself until the death of Cæsar, some
time after which he once more played his part in public
life. It was several months before Cæsar had reduced
the whole of Spain.
On his return from Africa, Cæsar had already had a
triumph of four days: there was the Gallic triumph, the
Pontic, the Egyptian, and the African one over Juba,
in which no Roman general was mentioned. He had
now a Spanish triumph, in which the Spanish towns
were individually named. The former one had highly
pleased the Romans; but this one hurt their feelings,
notwithstanding all the presents given to the people and
the soldiers, as it was evidently a triumph over their
fellow-citizens, although none of them were named.
Velleius Paterculus states the amount of the treasures
which Cæsar had brought in triumph to Rome, to have
been sexies millies (six hundred million sesterces = twenty
72millions of Prussian dollars). This sum is not at all incredible:
even if Cæsar gave to every soldier twenty
thousand sesterces (nearly seven hundred dollars), and for
all these presents spent even as much as thirty or forty
million dollars, which are to be added to that sum, the
account is indeed by no means unlikely. But Appian
as he is generally understood, states a sum which is
quite enormous, even six and a half myriads of talents,
which would be a hundred million dollars. But here
we are not to think of Attic, but Egyptian, that is to
say, copper talents; and thus, though the whole amount
does not indeed quite agree with what Velleius tells us,
there is no longer any exaggeration. Justus Lipsius did
not know how to reconcile this discrepancy.
Cæsar returned in October 707. The last five months
of his life were spent partly in his preparations for a
Parthian war, and partly in making a number of arrangements
in civil affairs: even as early as his return
from Africa he had regulated the calendar, and thus
done away with a source of intolerable favouritism. In
the last times of the republic, it was quite a usual thing
to intercalate a month at pleasure by a mere ordinance.
Curio in fact had fallen out with the senate, because he
too wanted to have a month intercalated for himself,
and the pontiff refused.
It is one of the inestimable advantages of legitimate,
hereditary, time-honoured, and unquestioned government,
whatever may be its form, that it may sometimes
outwardly remain inactive when the state is concerned.
As in most cases it interferes only where it is absolutely
necessary, and it seems to let things take their own
course, it meddles very little with people’s affairs; and
thus it is also able to allow a much higher degree of individual
liberty. A government, on the other hand,
which is called a usurpation, and is but newly established,
has not only to try and hold its own, but also, in
all that it undertakes, it has to prove its inherent right
to govern, and to establish its reputation. Those who
73are placed in such a position, are forced to act from a
most grievous necessity; and if this was the case with
any one, it was with Cæsar. What could he have undertaken
in the centre of the empire? Modern governments
may do many things of which the ancients had
no notion; and indeed that much cried down, and in
many respects baneful system of centralization has still
this good effect, that it gives the activity of rulers
a wider range. There remained in truth no measures
to be carried out by Cæsar, either in Italy or in the provinces;
and as he had for fifteen years been accustomed
to the most prodigious exertions, he was now as it were
in a state of sloth, unless he could employ himself
abroad: he must undertake something which would
engage his whole soul; rest he no longer could. His
first thought was war, and that in countries where since
the time of Alexander, the most brilliant military glory
was to be earned,—where the unburied bones of the
legions of Crassus were still to be revenged,—against
the Parthians. The Getæ also had spread in Thrace,
and Cæsar wanted likewise to check them. But his
grand design was to destroy the empire of the Parthians,
and to extend that of the Romans as far as India;
and in this he would undoubtedly have not been
unsuccessful. He already felt so near the result, that
he began to think of what was to be done afterwards;
and therefore we may consider the statement as a very
likely one, that he then meant to march through the
defiles of the Caucasus and ancient Sythia into the land
of the Getæ, and to return through Germany and Gaul.
These plans of his had all of them a gigantic range: he
had other projects besides which were quite as grand.
The harbour of Ostia was bad, and large sea-going vessels
could not come up the river; he is therefore said to
have intended to cut a canal from the Tiber, above or
below the city, and through the Pontine marshes as far
as Terracina, which should be navigable for large ships
to sail up to Rome. He likewise undertook many things
74which were done at once; so much indeed, that we
hardly understand how he could have accomplished the
whole of it during the five months which he had still to
live. The veterans having now retired, he followed
Sylla’s unfortunate precedent, and founded a number
of colonies for them throughout Italy: the old soldiers of
Sylla, or their children, were many of them driven out,
thus reaping the reward of their own cruelty, or that of
their fathers, to the inhabitants of the municipia. In
Southern Gaul, Corinth, and Carthage, he likewise
established colonies again. Corinth, however, was a
colonia libertinorum, a thing which it is not easy to account
for: everything in the place remained a medley,
and it has never risen since to any real prosperity. He
also wanted to cut through the isthmus, a plan which I
cannot quite understand; owing to the state in which
hydraulic architecture was then. The work might indeed
have been executed by means of a succession of
locks. That these, however, were employed in great
canal works among the ancients, we have no proof; yet
they were known to them. They were brought to their
present perfection, as late as in the fifteenth century,
by the Netherlanders.
With regard to the state, he enacted several measures;
among others, that of restoring the jus honorum
to the children of those whom Sylla had proscribed. He
had received from the senate the dictatorship for life,
the consulship for ten years, and the right of filling up
at once half the offices which the centuries had to give,
and recommending for the other half those whom he
wished to be nominated; so that henceforth the election
was a mere sham. The tribes still had their elections
free. Moreover, he made several laws for the relief of
debtors, and such like purposes. He raised the number
of the prætors to ten, and afterwards to sixteen; that of
the quæstors to forty, which was now more than was
wanted for filling up the vacancies of the senate:
this he had also enlarged, though how much is uncertain.[14]75He gave the citizenship to whom he pleased, and
he chose into the senate whom he pleased; so that he
filled it with his partisans, which caused much dissatisfaction.
Yet it is a striking fact, that at the time of
his death, the majority of the senate did not consist of
Cæsarians. It is moreover very remarkable, that in all
his measures there is no trace to be found of his ever
having wanted to modify the constitution, and to put
an end to anarchy; for all his changes are in reality but
trifling. Sylla meant to do this: it is true that he did
not attain his end, and the way in which he set about
it was most stupid; but he at least felt the need of it.
Cæsar seems not even to have thought upon a remedy
for the evil: for his increasing by a special edict the
number of the patricians, and his adding new patrician
families to the old ones, is a case which has no connexion
whatever with the constitution. He did not admit a
whole gens into the patrician order, but individuals only
and their children; just as one is ennobled in our days.
This had no other object than to provide for the filling
up of the priestly offices: the new ædiles Cereales even
remained limited to the plebs. Had Cæsar died in
peace, the state would have been in the same disorganization,
as if he had never lived; perhaps it would have
been still worse off. His sound sense and his powerful
understanding told him, that the solution of the problem
was not so easy as Sylla had dreamed; that, on the contrary,
it was very difficult, the first condition being that
he should become a prince, a condition which of course
would seem quite intolerable even in the eyes of many
of his partisans, who were quite ready to go on with
him as fellow-rebels. And in Cicero’s books de Republica,
we may remark throughout his conviction that the
Rome of his day could not possibly remain any longer
as it was, and that it wanted a king; yet Cicero undoubtedly
76said to himself the whole time, that no one
would listen to his advice.
The title of king had a great charm for Cæsar, as it
has had indeed for many a practical man, Cromwell
among others. It was so managed that when Cæsar at
the Lupercalia had seated himself on the suggestum,
Antony offered him the diadem, to see how the people
would take it; but Cæsar made a show of declining it,
as the people were alarmed, and thereupon a general
shout of applause and praise burst forth, which now
made it impossible for him to do what he wished. Antony
then had the diadem put upon the statue of Cæsar; two
of the tribunes, however, Cæsetius Flavus and Epidius
Marullus, took it down. Cæsar’s real feelings now betrayed
themselves; for, he looked upon this as a personal
insult, and having lost all command of himself,
wanted to have them arrested: the least that he could
be prevailed upon to do, was to deprive them of their
office and banish them. This made an immense sensation.
On the other hand, he had himself committed a
fault, perhaps from absence of mind. When the senate
issued those extravagant decrees which conferred upon
him unlimited power, and a deputation from the whole
body now brought them to him, he neglected to rise
from the curule chair, and saluted them but very slightly.
This want of courtesy people did not forgive, who
had granted to Cæsar everything that he could have
wished, but still expected some sort of acknowledgment
in return. Cicero, who certainly was no democrat,
wrote soon afterwards, turpissimi consulares, turpis
senatus, populus fortis, infimus quisque honore fortissimus.
The first part of this is true, the latter part exaggerated.
During the last year of Cæsar’s life, Brutus and Cassius
were prætors, both of whom had formerly been
among the leaders of Pompey’s party. Brutus was a
nephew of Cato. Livia, the mother of the latter, had,
after the death of her first husband, married Servilius
77Cæpio; so that Servilia was Cato’s half-sister: Servilia
was a profligate woman, unworthy of her son and brother,
and she did not even care for the honour of her
own daughter. Brutus indeed had very few eminent
persons in his family after it had become plebeian. In
the first years after the Licinian law, some Junii are to
be found in the Fasti; but they are not above mediocrity:
at a later period, the family had become truly
contemptible. M. Brutus especially disgraced his house:
after having carried on the business of an informer
(accusationes factitabat), and acted a vile part in the time
of Marius, he was put to death by Pompey in Gaul.
Thus, although indeed no Roman family was so illustrious
as to its gens, Brutus was by no means one of
those who have been raised by great and fortunate circumstances.
The training of his youth had, however,
much effect upon him: his uncle Cato, whose daughter
Porcia he afterwards married,—it is uncertain whether
this was still in Cato’s lifetime,—had devoted him from
a child to the Stoic philosophy, as if it were a religion.
Besides this, he had qualities in which Cato was wanting,
who had a certain scrupulosity and puritanism
about him. Brutus was free from such qualms as these;
he had also a finer and more versatile mind, not only
endowed by nature with the happiest gifts, but likewise
highly cultivated. Cato was not one of the distinguished
orators, which Brutus certainly was; and had the latter
lived longer, he would undoubtedly have been one
of the first writers of Rome. Cicero had quite a fatherly
affection for him; he saw in him a man who, he
hoped, would one day become the head and heart of the
state.[15] Cæsar’s attention also had been drawn to Brutus
whom he had known and loved from a child: it is
indeed quite natural that he should have shown fondness
78for so extraordinary and so amiable a mind; for he had
as little of the feeling of envy as Cicero himself. The stories
which have gone about of a connexion of a different
kind, have been devised by some stupid fellow. Brutus
had fought on the side of Pompey at the battle of Pharsalus,
and Cæsar immediately afterwards inquired if
any one knew what was become of him; on this Brutus
wrote to Cæsar, who being quite rejoiced to see that
Brutus wished to live, fully trusted him, and gave him
the government of Cisalpine Gaul, where he greatly distinguished
himself.
Cassius was considerably older than Brutus, to whom
he was related. He was a good officer: he bore a very
high character in the army; and he had as quæstor,
after the death of Crassus, held Syria against the Parthians:
yet he was not better than the common run of
Cæsar’s officers. He too had been in the ranks of the
Pompeians, and when Cæsar, as he was pursuing Pompey,
passed over to Asia, he was lying with a squadron
of galleys in the Hellespont. Cæsar boldly went in a
boat into the midst of his fleet, and asked him to go
over to his side, which he did. Cæsar pardoned almost
all his enemies: even Marcellus, who had mortally
offended him, he forgave at the intercession of Cicero;
and as far as in him lay, he tried altogether to do away
with the consequences of the war. This year, Cæsar
had appointed both Brutus and Cassius to the prætorship,
which in fact was a troublesome office, affording
but little gratification: the only honourable and lucrative
prætorship was the prætura urbana which formerly
was given by lot.[16] This latter dignity both of them
now tried to get. Cæsar gave it to Brutus, and this
caused a quarrel between Brutus and Cassius.
A meeting of the senate having been appointed for
the fifteenth of March, there was a report that the motion
was then to be brought forward to give Cæsar the
79crown. Cassius who both hated Cæsar of old, and also
wished to revenge himself upon him for not having got
the prætura urbana, made the first advances to Brutus,
and sounded him as to whether he would conspire
against Cæsar: in the night, inscriptions were left on
Brutus’ tribunal and house, which bade him remember
that he was a Brutus. Brutus at once held out his
hand, and agreed to be reconciled. They enlisted several
others, Cæsarians as well as Pompeians, a complete
fusion of parties having taken place. Two of the chief
conspirators were old generals of Cæsar, Decimus Brutus
and C. Trebonius, both of whom he had raised to
high honours: they had served in the Gallic war, and
had been jointly commissioned to crush the noble town
of Massilia. The number of accomplices is unknown; but
the conspiracy indiscriminately comprehended people
who had fought against each other at Pharsalus (704).
No proposals were made to Cicero; but it is a pitiful
calumny to say that his courage was mistrusted: to
slander a great man in such a way, is really shameful.[17]
They might have been quite sure of his courage; what
they feared were his objections. Brutus had as fine a
soul as any one could have, but he was passionate; Cicero,
on the other hand, had arrived at mature age, and
had become a sadder and a wiser man: his feelings
moreover were of such extraordinary delicacy that he
would never have betrayed his benefactor to whom
he owed his life, a man who had always behaved towards
him in the handsomest and noblest manner, and
who had particularly distinguished him before the
world as his friend. Nor could the conspirators conceal
from themselves, that the undertaking which they were
plotting could not but displease a wise man. Goethe
80has branded the murder of Cæsar as the greatest folly
which the Romans ever committed; and never was a
truer word spoken.[18] Hirtius and Pansa, two generous
and wise men who were well aware that the republic
needed to become settled, and not to be stirred up again,
had advised Cæsar to look to himself, and to keep a
body guard; but he disdained to do this, saying, that
he would not wish to live, if he had always to think of
preserving his life. He knew well that Brutus might
entertain such a thought against him, and he spoke of
it to his friends; but he would add, that his health had
indeed been too much impaired, and Brutus would
surely wait until that frail body of his had gone to decay.
And it was the general belief that Cæsar would
soon transfer his power to Brutus, as the most worthy
to succeed him. It was while these things were going
on, that Porcia, when she saw that Brutus was harbouring
an important secret, and that he did not make
her his confidante, inflicted upon herself a deep wound
with a knife. The wound brought on a fever, the
cause of which she hid from her husband; and it was
only when he repeatedly pressed her, that she at last disclosed
it, thus giving him a proof of her discretion. Cæsar
went to the curia, although his own forebodings, the
dreams of his wife, and the prophecies of the Haruspex
had warned him of his death: Dec. Brutus basely enticed
him thither. The conspirators were at first seized
with fear, lest their plot should have been betrayed.
Plutarch now beautifully tells us, how C. Tillius Cimber
forced his way up to Cæsar, and worried him with his
importunity, until he got angry; how Casca struck the
first blow; and how Cæsar was murdered by twenty-three
stabs. He lost his life in his fifty-sixth year, or
after its completion.—I am not yet quite clear as to this
81point; but the latter seems to me more likely, judging
from the time of his first consulship.—He was born on
the eleventh of July, and died on the fifteenth of March,
between eleven and twelve o’clock.
STATE OF ROME AFTER THE MURDER OF CÆSAR. TRIUMVIRATE OF ANTONY, OCTAVIAN, AND LEPIDUS. DEATH OF CICERO.
The conspirators were so far from having formed a deliberate
plan, that they were not even agreed as to what
was to be done next. In the first moment, Cassius demanded
that Antony should die; but Brutus was against
it, declaring that it was enough that one man should
have died. In this Brutus was evidently wrong, as
many besides ought to have been slain, to set everything
right: at all events, Antony should have been
killed, if even a shadow of the republic was still to be
kept up; for indeed it was he, and men like him, who
had made Cæsar’s rule hateful. He had been his chief
instigator to take the diadem, and it is generally acknowledged
that, if left to himself, Cæsar would have
done nothing but good. In the height of the tumult,
most of the senators took to flight, a few openly declared
for Brutus and his companions, as tyrannicides.
Cicero was one of these, which shows no small courage
on his part. On neither side were people at all aware
of what was next to follow. One might have believed
that the people would have been full of exultation after
Cæsar’s murder, as public opinion was against him, ever
since he had aspired to the diadem; yet there is nothing
more changeable than man: now that the thing which
they had wanted was done, the same people who a few
days before had wished for Cæsar’s death, were bewailing
and lamenting him. The tumult lasted for some days.
Cæsar had been murdered on the fifteenth of March; on
82the seventeenth, the senate met to deliberate on the
steps which were to be taken in a time of such great
excitement. In this meeting, Antony behaved quite
differently from what had been expected, holding out
his hand for a reconciliation: people indeed did not
trust him; yet they believed that he was forced by circumstances
to act in this way. Cicero came forward
as an adviser, and it was decreed that an amnesty should
be granted for all that was past; just as they did at
Athens after the time of the thirty tyrants. There was
much consultation about what was to be done. Brutus
and Cassius, as public opinion was against them, had betaken
themselves to the Capitol to escape from the storm;
and from thence they began to negotiate: there were
many of Cæsar’s soldiers in the city, others thronged in,
and the commotion was very great. The resolutions which
were come to, aimed at reconciliation; but they were full
of contradictions to each other. Whilst, on the one hand,
there was a strong feeling of admiration for the murderers,
the decrees of the senate took quite the opposite turn.
The proposal that Cæsar should be declared a tyrant, and
all his acts be repealed, was not only rejected by the
senate, through fear of the veterans, but divine honours
were even conferred upon him, and the validity of all
his ordinances expressly acknowledged. The motion
had been made that his will should be annulled; but
his father-in-law, L. Calpurnius Piso, with persevering
impudence, carried that it should be ratified, publicly
read, and executed. Cæsar had bequeathed to the soldiers,
and to every single individual of the Roman people,
great sums from his immense treasures; with this one
would be sure to rekindle the enthusiasm of the soldiers
and of the populace for him who was dead. Some had
wisely requested that the burial should be quite private;
yet this also was overruled, owing to the boldness
of the faction and the cowardice of the senate, and it was
ordered that he should have a stately funeral in the
Campus Martius. The corpse in an open bier, according
83to the Italian custom, as is still the case at this day,
was set down in the Forum before the rostra; and there
his nearest kinsman Antony, who was allied to him by
his mother Julia, delivered the oration, thus working
powerfully on the minds of the fickle and capricious
people: he not only recounted Cæsar’s great achievements,
but he afterwards showed the wounds, and held
aloft the bloody toga pierced by the daggers. At this
sight, the people became so frantic and enraged, that
instead of bearing the dead body to the Campus Martius,
they at once built up a funeral pile of the benches
and whatever wood besides chanced to be at hand, and
there they burnt it: they then tore a man to pieces,
whom they had groundlessly mistaken for one of the
conspirators, and they stormed the houses of Brutus and
Cassius. These had already come down from the Capitol
on a promise which Antony and Lepidus had made
on oath; and now they betook themselves to Antium,
whilst others went down to the provinces of which they
were governors. Dec. Brutus withdrew to Cisalpine
Gaul which had been promised him by Cæsar; there he
meant to take the oaths of the legions, and to make
sure of them: M. Brutus was to have had Macedon;
Cassius, Syria.
The events of this year (708) are so complicated and
various, that it is quite impossible to relate them in
order. Fr. Fabricius gives a detailed account of them
in his life of Cicero: the knowledge of them is of importance
for the Philippic orations.
Cæsar had in his will made the grandson of his sister
Julia, C. Octavius, his heir ex dodrante after the payment
of all legacies; the remaining quarter he had bequeathed
to his wife’s relations: Antony and L. Piso,
were not among the heirs. Cæsar’s aunt Julia, had
been married to Marius; his sister Julia, the wife of
M. Atius Balbus, had a daughter Atia, who was married
to C. Octavius, the son of C. Octavius: this last was a
worthy man, and but for his early death, would have
84risen to the consulship. Whether these Octavii belonged
to those who in former days had acted a part in history,
especially the colleague of Tib. Gracchus, is a point
which I do not clearly know. I am, however, inclined
to deny it, as they are spoken of too positively as having
been ordinis equestris. At the time of Cæsar’s murder,
C. Octavius was in his nineteenth year, having been
born on the 23d of September, 689. Cæsar had taken
an interest in this young man after his return from
Spain; for hitherto he does not seem to have bestowed
any attention upon him. He had settled that he was
to accompany him in the Parthian war, and thenceforth
remain with him to finish his education: until then, he
had sent him to Apollonia in Illyricum, to get Grecian
learning there. The Greek language was at that time
quite common among the Romans: Cassius and Messalla
spoke it to each other;[19] and in Cicero’s letters
there are long passages in Greek, without the writers
being themselves aware of it: Cicero’s Greek, however,
has sometimes a peculiarly foreign air about it; it would
be interesting to make this at once the subject of an
accurate research. When Octavius had heard the sad
news, he came up to Rome, and presented himself to
Antony as Cæsar’s heir, ready to enter upon his inheritance.
This was a most unpleasant arrival for Antony,
who had the most urgent reasons not to let the
property go out of his hands: for as he was answerable
for it, he had to look sharp that no mistake should be
made, and that it should be most faithfully administered;
just as was the case with those with whom Napoleon
had deposited the five millions. Octavius is the
first example which I know of in history of an adoption
by will; afterwards, this was very often done. Antony
now tried to deter Octavius: he as well as others represented
to him that he had better give it up, telling him
that he was still too young: his mother and his stepfather
85had allowed themselves to be intimidated. But he
already had Agrippa for his adviser, a man of whom, at
a later period, there is a great deal of good to be said,
but whose conduct at this crisis brought sad consequences
upon the republic. But for Agrippa, Octavius
would have played quite a different part: he would have
let himself be intimidated; or else would have been overpowered,
and Brutus would at last have been obliged to
take upon himself the dictatorship, though perhaps
under a different name, as the dictatura had been abolished
for ever by a decree of the senate. Octavius now
attached himself to those by whom he hoped to strengthen
himself against Antony; and as, of course, he could not
league himself with the murderers of Cæsar, he made
particular advances to Cicero, whose hands were clean
in that affair, and who allowed himself to be entrapped
by the deep cunning of the young man: for he deemed
it impossible that one so young should be false; and he
always tried to see what he wished, to find in Octavius
a disposition to consult the good of the commonwealth.
Thus arose this connexion.—Octavius carried his point,
and Antony had to give up to him the will and the inheritance,
that is to say, as much of the latter as was
still left; for Antony had already made away with the
greatest part of the sums which Cæsar had deposited
with him. The ill-feeling between Octavius and Antony
now ran very high: each suspected the other, and perhaps
with good reason, of trying to murder him. To
so great a height had the excitement risen, that Cicero
resolved to go away to Athens, until the first of January
of the following year, when Hirtius and Pansa were to
be consuls: the former of these was a very worthy and
able man, and really his friend, whilst Pansa was much
less eminent, being only a commonplace soldier.
This summer Cicero displayed the greatest intellectual
activity. He began the books de Officiis; he wrote
the ones De Divinatione, De Fato, De Gloria, the Topica,
and also that huge quantity of letters, many of which
86are no longer extant. I do not know of any person,
who was so intensely laborious as Cicero, was at that
time. A common man will under such circumstances
be stunned; he only thinks with terror of what is before
him: Cicero, on the contrary, was aware of everything
that was going on; but instead of letting himself
be made the slave of events which he could not check,
he turned all his thoughts to the intellectual world. This
activity was the recreation which he found in this grief;
it shows the wonderful strength of his soul. Contrary
winds obliged him to stop at Rhegium.
Antony had, by means of decrees which he had wrung
from the senate, given Macedonia to his brother Caius,
and Syria to Dolabella, who, after Cæsar’s death, was
consul with him: for himself, he had chosen Cisalpine
Gaul. All at once, he turned round, and seemed to be
quite another man: he showed himself friendly to the
optimates, and most ready to conciliate men’s minds;
and he enacted laws which aimed at peace. When Cicero
was told that Antony was doing everything that
one could wish, his friends earnestly begged him to return,
and to reconcile himself with Antony. Had Cicero,
on his arrival, ventured to appear in the senate,
notwithstanding the risk there was of his being murdered
in it; and had he brought himself to speak there
to Antony, as if he could trust him; he might have prevented
a great deal of mischief. Antony was embittered
against him, and hated him; but he would perhaps
after all have consented to make friends with him. On
the whole, Cicero was guilty of a blunder in so loudly
expressing his too just abhorrence of Antony’s utter
profligacy. Antony, though a bad man, might still to
some extent be gained over; he was at least an open
character. Octavian, on the other hand, was a thorough
hypocrite; and there was much truth in his last words
at Nola, when he asked, whether he had well acted the
comedy of his life: for it was all a part which he had
got up most carefully and deliberately, and which he
87played with uncommon skill. Dissimulation was the
master faculty of his mind. Antony, profligate as his
life was, still did some good-natured, and even generous
actions: Cicero could not have made a worse choice between
the two. He may likewise have uttered things,
which gave deep offence to Antony, and very often have
made him the butt of his wit. However this may be,
when Cicero did not show himself in the senate, Antony
broke out against him in the most unseemly manner;
and this called forth the second Philippic, which was
never spoken, but written, and being immediately circulated,
was devoured with the greatest admiration. As
Cicero no longer deemed himself to be safe at Rome, he
now went into the country.
Towards the end of the year, Antony betook himself
to Cisalpine Gaul: Gallia Transpadana likewise had already
received the franchise from Cæsar. During the
whole of the summer, he went on in the most outrageous
manner: on the strength of the senate having
confirmed the acta Cæsaris, he did what he listed, pretending
that he was acting according to commands
which he had found among Cæsar’s papers. He granted
to colonies immunity; gave others the franchise, and
to some the jus Latii; chose his creatures into the senate;
and all for money. In the same way, he had distributed
the provinces.—In Spain, there was Asinius
Pollio; in Gaul, M. Lepidus and L. Munatius Plancus.
Antony betook himself to his province, where he tried
to tamper with the legions of Dec. Brutus, but without
success. The Transalpine and Illyrian towns showed
themselves at first very friendly towards him; but his
debaucheries and extortions estranged them from him.
In the beginning of the year 709, the two consuls whom
Cæsar had still nominated, Hirtius and Pansa, entered
upon their office,—so far did Cæsar’s power reach even
now!—and the senate assigned them the provinces of
Gaul and Italy, to carry on, in common with Dec. Brutus,
the struggle against Antony. Octavius had beguiled
88Cicero to get him the power and insignia of a prætor.
Antony having, on the other hand, recalled the
legions from Macedonia, whither they had been sent by
Cæsar to be employed against the Parthians, two of
them went over to Octavian; and they formed the nucleus
of his force against Antony, and afforded protection
to Cicero and the other patriots, although there
was no one whom they hated so much. In the meanwhile,
Brutus and Cassius had gone to Greece.
To the last year of Cicero’s life (709), belong the last
Philippics, which come down to the end of April, besides
several of the letters ad diversos, and also those to Brutus.
This collection of epistles, as is well known, consists
of two portions: an older one, which was very
likely found in the same manuscript with those ad
Quintum fratrem; and another, which has first appeared
in the Cratandrina, and is stated to have been found in
Germany. With regard to these last letters, there is a
difficulty which cannot be cleared up. Whether they
were forged in the sixteenth century, or, whether they
are really old, I am not able to decide: if they are forged,
he who did it has produced an incomparable masterpiece.
And as for the other letters to Brutus in the
first part, there is likewise a great dispute whether they
be genuine or not. That they are very old, even as old
as the first century, there can be no doubt; yet for all
that they may very easily have been fabricated, even as
early as the reign of Augustus, or at least in that of
Tiberius: they are written by an ingenious man who
had a very good knowledge of that age. It is nearly a
hundred years since the question of their genuineness
was first mooted by an English editor. Wolf was fully
convinced that they were spurious; but I would not assert
it so positively. I should however be glad if they
were not genuine, of which I am morally convinced, as
I am also with regard to the oration pro Marcello; yet
there are still great doubts on the subject. These letters
show some misunderstanding between Brutus and
89Cicero; and although we must not implicitly rely on
them, yet they date so near the time itself, and are written
so much from contemporary sources, that they may
be looked upon as authorities.
While the first months were passing, Antony was besieging
Dec. Brutus in Mutina. All in those parts had
now declared against Antony. Modena must at that
time have been of very great extent, since Brutus with
all his army lay in it. Antony however, who was very
much superior to him in numbers, having nine or ten
legions, could have starved him out; and he was going
to compel him to surrender, when Hirtius and Pansa,
and C. Octavius as prætor, came up with three armies
to his relief. Hirtius and Octavius first posted themselves
in the neighbourhood of Bologna, whither Pansa
followed with reinforcements: Octavian only had veterans;
the rest were newly raised legions inferior to
those of Antony. The latter having marched against
the enemy to prevent the junction with Pansa, the
troops of Pansa and especially the legio Martia which
had been sent forward to his aid, heedlessly let themselves
be drawn into a sort of irregular fight in which
Antony at first had the worst of it, and then the better.
When he was on the point of turning this advantage
into a decided victory, Hirtius came up with reinforcements,
and won the day. We have still extant an official
bulletin of this battle, which was sent to Rome, and
of which perhaps something must be abated. Pansa
was severely wounded. As Antony did not stir from
his lines, and the position of Dec. Brutus was by no
means improved; the armies united, and ten or fourteen
days afterwards Hirtius undertook an attack upon the
camp of Antony: he broke through the upper lines, and
took the camp; but he himself was killed in the battle.
Dec. Brutus, however, had in the meanwhile made a
furious sally, and joined the troops of the senate; so that
Antony was obliged to give up the siege. He might still
90have kept his ground; but he entirely lost his head, and
resolved upon leaving Italy.
At the end of April, things looked very cheerful in
Rome, were it not for the death of the two consuls. Octavian’s
reputation was then already such, that people
suspected him of having had the wound of Pansa poisoned
by his surgeon, and Hirtius killed in the battle,
in the midst of his soldiers, by assassins: it is true that
his moral character was by no means too good for such
things to be ascribed to him; at any rate, great suspicion
attaches itself to him, as those deaths left him the
stage quite free. To the consuls who might have followed,
the republic could not have intrusted itself.
Under these circumstances, C. Cæsar, as he is now called,
took the command of the armies of the two consuls,
and Antony, whose army was dispersed, crossed the
Alps with a small troop. It would now have been in
the power of M. Lepidus—an abandoned fellow whom
Cæsar unfortunately had been intimate with, and who
after his death, in defiance of all right, had managed to
get the pontificatus maximus—and of Munatius Plancus,
to put an end to the whole affair, as the two were
staying in Gaul, and might have crushed Antony: but
this they did not wish. Lepidus would not have raised
a hand against Antony. The latter—perhaps it was a
got up farce,—was received in his camp, and proclaimed
imperator by his soldiers and those of Plancus. This
happened in the course of the summer, that season beginning
in Italy as early as the seventh or eighth of
May.
In this orphan state of the republic, Octavianus unmasked
his real sentiments, and got his veterans loudly
to demand that the consulship should be given him.
Before that, he had applied to Cicero, proposing that
they should be consuls together, in which case he would
be entirely guided by Cicero’s advice. But Cicero did not
fall into the snare: he saw that everything was hopeless.
These last months after June were the most unhappy
91ones which he had ever known; so that it is no wonder
that he got so tired of life, and would not even try to
escape from death. The veterans with threats demanded
the consulship for Octavian; but Cicero spoke against
it quite as resolutely as any other senator. Surely here
are no signs of cowardice, for which his excessive sensibility
has indeed too often been mistaken!—They were,
however, at last obliged to give way, and on the 19th
of August, Octavian had himself proclaimed consul, together
with his cousin Q. Pedius. There was now no
more hope left for the lovers of their country: the senate
was ready for slavery, and Cicero withdrew himself
altogether. One of the first acts of the new consuls,
was that frightful Lex Pedia by which criminal proceedings
were instituted against all the accomplices in
the murder of Cæsar. Judges were appointed, who
were pro forma to summon Brutus, Cassius, and the
other conspirators; and as these last, of course, did not
surrender, they were condemned for contempt and proscribed:—they
were outlawed and a price was set on
their heads. This was quite against all Roman law;
for whoever of his own free will renounced the republic,
might always save his life. Dec. Brutus, whose army
had been made disaffected by Octavian, fled to the borders
of Gaul, and there he was murdered by a guest-friend.
Octavian also reproached the senate with having
ill-treated him, and with having slighted him after
the war of Mutina; yet as he had the potestas prætoria,
the senate could not indeed have done more for him
than it did.
It was now November. Antony returned with Lepidus
and Plancus and their army, and Octavian marched
to the neighbourhood of Bologna to meet them. Lepidus,
however, acted as a mediator, and the three came together
on an islet in the river Reno, where they agreed to
share among themselves for five years the government of
the Roman world as triumviri reipublicæ constituendæ.
The idea of such a magistracy was not a new one, as it
92had already been legally instituted once before, after the
time of the Licinian law,[20] under quite different circumstances:
it is also possible that on some other occasion
there may also have been something of the kind. Italy
was to be administered by them in common with consular
power: of the provinces, Lepidus was to have
Spain and Narbonnese Gaul; Antony, Cisalpine, Lugdunensian,
and Belgic Gaul; Octavian, Africa, Sicily,
and Sardinia. With regard to the eastern provinces
nothing was settled. And likewise they first began
with publishing a proscription of seventeen persons.
Antony gave up his uncle as a victim; Lepidus, his brother,—or
rather he demanded his death; as for Octavian,
the historians say that it was only after a struggle
that he made up his mind to sacrifice Cicero. Yet
this cannot by any means have been hard for him to
do: on the contrary, it must have been a relief to him
to get rid of a benefactor, whom he had so beguiled and
deceived, and to whom he had so often made vows of
gratitude and of devotion to the republic. And moreover,
this is only stated by Velleius and those writers
who follow the historians of the Augustan age. How
Livy treated this part of history, we unfortunately do
not know for certain; but it is very likely that he was
more free-spoken than others: we are told that Augustus
called him a Pompeian, and a fragment also of his
with regard to Cicero displays much boldness. It is, on
the whole, astonishing how openly the writers of Augustus’
times—Asinius Pollio for instance—spoke out what
they thought of the state of things in their day: this
was partly because it was looked upon as the opinion of
private persons, and perhaps also because these writings
were not immediately circulated. A second proscription
followed of a hundred and thirty senators, which
was afterwards still further enlarged. These lists were
much worse than those of Sylla. These last were the
93offspring of party spirit alone,—plunder was only a
secondary object, or at most it followed as a thing of
course; nor was it even for Sylla’s own benefit,—whereas
now in most cases there was less of revenge
than rapacity. Men who had never given any offence
whatever, were made victims because they were rich,
and of every one who was proscribed the goods and
chattels were confiscated.
Cicero was in his Tusculan villa when the proscription
list came out. He was undecided whether he ought
not at once to await his death; yet he let himself be
persuaded by his brother to flee. They went to the sea
coast as far as Astura, to look out for a ship; and thence
his brother returned, only to be murdered. Cicero took
a fishing boat; but being tired of life, he had not the
least wish to escape, and the murderer was welcome to
him. Much as he honoured Cato, he did not think it
right to lay hands on his own life: he therefore wished
to leave it to Providence, whether he should flee to Sextus
Pompey, who was already master of Sicily, or to
Brutus, or any where else. Had he got to Sex. Pompey,
he would have very likely died a natural death; for he
would have lived to see the time when the latter made
his peace, and all the proscribed persons of note who were
with him returned to Rome. But Providence willed
otherwise. The wind was contrary; he became sea sick,
and found his wretched life not worth having: the sailors
wanted to put back, and he allowed them to land
near Mola di Gaëta, in the neighbourhood of one of his
estates, to wait till the storm was over. Here he was
betrayed by one of his own people, and a centurion, Popillius
Lænas,—a man of a very distinguished plebeian
clan, whose crime was perhaps exaggerated by the rhetorical
invention that Cicero had once defended him,—overtook
him. Cicero’s friends had prevailed upon him
to let himself be carried away in a litter; but when his
pursuers had come up with him, he ordered it to be set
down, and, forbidding his slaves to fight for him, he
94himself stretched out his head to receive the deathblow.
He died on the seventh of December 709, with great
courage. His son, who was at that time with Brutus
in Macedonia, still behaved in such a way as to give
hopes of what he would become: he afterwards plunged
into the lowest sensuality, and the coarsest debauchery.
For all that, he was a man of much intellect, and he
had his father’s wit; but he wanted all the moral qualities,
which distinguished the first Cicero.
I recommend to you Middleton’s Life of Cicero: it is
written not only in a very fine style, but also in a very
fine spirit, whereas Hooke is revoltingly unjust to Cicero,
and his diffuse work after all is only patchwork.
Until the time of my youth, Cicero was ever revered as
a great name, like a god before whom one bows the
knee, albeit a θεὸς ἄγνωτος. Throughout the whole of
the middle ages also, he stood high in men’s esteem:
great minds, like Dante, St. Bernard, Petrarch and
others, knew how to enter into his ideas, and could admire
him. This feeling rose even to a greater height
at the time of the revival of learning. The mania of
the Ciceroniani in the sixteenth century is well known:
it was held to be quite a heresy to use a phrase which
was not to be found in Cicero. Some have been made
quite dull by it; others, on the contrary, have thus
formed a noble style: of this Manutius is an instance.
Towards the end of the eighteenth century, a reaction
began: people neglected, and even disdained the Latin
language and literature, whilst the study of Greek got
more in fashion. This was carried still farther during
the first ten years of this century, when distinguished
philologists would look down upon Cicero with scorn,
and sneer at his twaddle, especially in his philosophical
writings. Nowadays an enlightened and just estimation
of Greek and Latin philology seems to have come
into vogue. The philologist’s true standing, according
to Quintilian’s saying, is to be judged of by his love of
Cicero’s Latin: on the whole, nothing better can be said
95of him as a writer than this passage of Quintilian. Yet
his style is not without its faults: in his earlier writings,
particularly in the speeches against Verres, there are
passages which are quite unworthy of him, and which he
himself also afterwards criticised so severely in his Brutus.
In his latest writings, on the other hand, he has
not gone down, nor become dry; but there is always a
freshness about him. The real spring-time of his life was
the time of his prætorship and consulate. After his return,
the oration pro Cælio is particularly distinguished;
in the later ones, we must take the distress of the times
into account. The famous second Philippic, as compared
with the rest, has in my opinion been much overrated
by the rhetoricians: wherever he gives himself up to
vehemence, he exaggerates, which was not natural to
him. His mind in fact was thoroughly benevolent, and
wherever he shows himself in this light, he is finest. M.
Seneca in the Suasoria gives us opinions on Cicero by
Livy, Asinius Pollio, and Cassius Severus, which are
most remarkable.
Cicero’s death ends for us this unhappy year. During
its course, Brutus and Cassius had more and more
established their power in the east: the former had
made himself master of Macedonia, and been acknowledged
by the legions; the latter whilst Cassius was in
possession of Syria, had hemmed in Dolabella near
Laodicea, and compelled him to surrender. This fellow,
though he had at Rome as consul suffectus overthrown
the statue of Cæsar, had afterwards, when in Asia, killed
Trebonius, who indeed, like Decius Brutus, had formerly
been Cæsar’s friend, and therefore was one of the
most guilty of his murderers: for this, he was now condemned
as a traitor, and put to death. Cassius was still
most highly popular in Syria owing to the Parthian
war; the legions declared for him, and the whole of the
country submitted to him. At the end of the year,
Brutus and Cassius were masters of the whole of the
east, of the Adriatic sea, of Macedonia, and of Achaia,
96as far as the frontiers of Egypt. Brutus kept C. Antonius,
a brother of the triumvir, as a prisoner in Macedonia;
but when the tidings came of the proscriptions
at Rome, he had him executed.
In the unfortunate issue of the war of Philippi, we
may see the irresistible sway of what the ancients called
fatum: one untoward circumstance followed close upon
another, and everything which seemed to promise well
took an unlucky turn. This was especially the case
with the long expeditions of Brutus and Cassius in Asia.
Though indeed these were of some advantage to them
in bringing in money and soldiers, as they could both
of them increase their resources and make conscriptions;
they became notwithstanding the cause of their mishap.
The chastisement of Xanthus in Lycia by Brutus, the
taking of Rhodes by Cassius, and other things of the
same kind, belong rather to the later Greek history
than to this. Whilst they were training and recruiting
their troops, they ought indeed to have kept themselves
in Macedon and Greece, and have made it impossible
for the triumvirs to bring together large masses; they
would have compelled them to march a long way round
through Illyricum, and should the enemy have landed
at last, they might have prevented them from undertaking
anything. Thus the chances would have been
considerably in their favour. Fortune was likewise
against their fleet. The two commanders, Statius Murcus
and Domitius Ahenobarbus, who were stationed in
the Illyrian waters, do not seem to have neglected anything;
but the wind was fair for the triumvirs, and
they landed two or three times in several squadrons on
the Illyrian coast, and advanced from thence to Macedon.
Here Brutus and Cassius had no troops, although
they were not at all in want of soldiers; so that they
must have withdrawn them to Thrace. It was not until
the armies of Octavius and Antony had established
themselves in Greece, and had subdued the whole of it,
that their two antagonists concentrated their forces in
97Asia, and passed over the Hellespont into Macedon.
Near Philippi, in the neighbourhood of the gold mine
of Pangæus, there is between the mountains and the
sea, where the road leads from Amphipolis to Thrace, a
narrow defile which the triumvirs had occupied. Brutus
was guided by a faithful Thracian ally, and so he
turned the pass, and encamped over against the enemy
near Philippi: the fleet was in the western seas. Before
he started for this march, Brutus, either at Sardis
or at Abydus, saw the vision which called itself his evil
genius, and announced that it would meet him again at
Philippi. The question now was, what was to be done.
Cassius, an experienced general, rather shrank from
bringing matters to a quick decision; but the general
voice of the army called for the attack. The troops
stood faithful to their generals, and no desertion took
place: it would therefore have been possible to protract
the war. Had Brutus and Cassius caused themselves to
be joined by their fleet, which they did not know that
they could do, and then acted for a considerable time
on the defensive, Octavian and Antony would very likely
have been forced for want of provisions to retreat; but
unhappily they determined upon giving battle. In the
army of Brutus and Cassius were the Romans of the
highest rank; the greater part of these had been proscribed.
Most of those who had saved their lives were
now with them; only a few were with Sextus Pompey
in Sicily, who had a large fleet of pirate ships, with which,
however, Brutus and Cassius, as men of honour, and,
even for the simple reason that they would thus have
made themselves hateful to the people, would not unite
themselves. The battle was fought; Brutus leading the
left, Cassius the right wing (or rather, according to the
ancient way of speaking, the left and right horns; for
the term wing supposes a centre, whereas there were
two separate armies, which were drawn up close together).
In the battle, the fatum again showed its influence.
Brutus overcame the enemy with great ease;
98and the one who distinguished himself most under him,
was M. Valerius Messalla, a very young man, whom Cicero
much loved, and whom he had recommended to
him. In the reign of Augustus also, Messalla afterwards
bore a high character. Brutus opposed Octavian; Cassius,
Antony. Octavian is generally accused—Antony
taxed him with it in his letters, and in public—of not
having taken the least share in the battle; his army
was utterly defeated. The excuses which are pleaded
for him are very sorry ones; but as the command
had devolved upon Agrippa, it certainly had not fallen
into worse hands. In the Julian centre, a stout resistance
was made; the right wing, however, was undeniably
beaten, and the camp of Octavian taken.
That of Cassius was not forced; but his troops were
routed before it. Owing to the centre standing its
ground, it was not possible to see the success of the
army on the left wing; so that Cassius was led to think
that all was lost. He sent an officer to bring him a report
of the state of things on the other side, and after
waiting a very long time for his return, matters appeared
to him so desperate, that he bade his servant take
away his life. The suspicion was already afloat among
the ancients, that the slave behaved as a traitor, and
did this without being ordered. Brutus was very downcast
about the issue; twenty days passed, and both parties
were still in the same position to each other as before:
all was not yet lost. Had Brutus known that on
the very day of the first battle his fleet had gained a
complete victory, he would certainly have sent for it,
and would have remained firm to his plan of keeping
on the defensive. He had much trouble to get provisions,
and it pained him to see that his troops were as
lawless as those of the enemy: he had been obliged to
promise them the plunder of Thessalonica and Lacedæmon
in case of victory. On the day only that he yielded
to the wish of his army to decide the war at once,
he heard from the prisoners of the victory of his fleet;
99but low-spirited as he was, he would not believe it,—the
messengers sent to him had been intercepted,—and
he let himself be brought to an engagement. In this
battle, his troops did not behave with the same gallantry
as before, and they were signally beaten: Brutus escaped
with a small band to a hill. As he could not reach the
sea, and life would only be to him a most heavy burthen,
he called upon his faithful servants to do the last
duty to him; and on their refusing it, he fell upon his
sword.
He was only in his thirty-seventh year when he died:
at the time of Cicero’s consulship therefore, he was fifteen
years old.[21]
Antony at that time saved many a life, whereas Octavian
displayed a cold-blooded sneering cruelty which
was revolting to the feelings: of this the strangely impartial
account in Suetonius bears evidence. Antony
had the body of Brutus solemnly buried: it is true that
he likewise caused the son of Hortensius to be put to
death, as he laid to his door the execution of his brother
Caius. Most of the proscribed who were still alive,
now killed themselves. Strikingly enough, among these
was the father of that Livia who afterwards became the
wife of Augustus, and the whole of whose family belonged
to Pompey’s party: her first husband, Tiberius
Claudius Nero, even tried to get up an insurrection in
favour of the last of the proscribed.
After the battle, the fleets were still untouched. The
army took service with the conquerors; many of the
soldiers were scattered, many also returned unobserved
to Italy; especially the young volunteers, among whom
was also the poet Horace. From Athens, where he was
pursuing his studies with other young Romans, he had
joined the army of Brutus, who gave them appointments
100as tribunes. He was afterwards very badly off,
until he was recommended to Mæcenas by whose means
he got his pardon.[22]
THE PERUSIAN WAR. PEACE OF BRUNDUSIUM. PEACE OF MISENUM. EVENTS DOWN TO THE BATTLE OF ACTIUM. END OF THE CIVIL WAR.
Octavian led his legions back to Italy. Antony remained
in the East, and was really master of all the
countries on the other side of the Adriatic. Immediately
after the victory, he behaved everywhere with
humanity, and what was heard from Italy of Octavian
was more terrible than what those countries suffered
from him: moreover the provincials were well accustomed
to ill usage, which in this case was after all such
as might be borne. In Greece, he was forbearing; in
Asia Minor only, he extorted immense contributions;
the inhabitants there had had already before to pay to
Cassius the tribute for the next five years, and now Antony
demanded new ones. Yet these countries were
always sure to recover after a short time.
While he was on his way through these provinces to
Cilicia, he summoned Cleopatra to come to him: in this
he was either led by the fame of her beauty, or by pride.
Cleopatra, conscious of her irresistible charms, repaired
101fearlessly to him, although she had formerly supported
Cassius, and done many things besides which must have
given offence. With a fairylike pomp, on galleys bedecked
with gold and purple, she sailed up the Cydnus
to Tarsus, where she invited Antony to a banquet, who
was quite dazzled by this enchanting scene:—there were
but few Romans who understood how to display such
splendid luxury. He fell irretrievably into her nets, and
she went about with him in Asia, and he accompanied
her to Alexandria.
Whilst he now lay there in the chains of Armida, but
not as Rinaldo, there arose in Italy a new misfortune
which sprang from his love affair with Cleopatra. Octavian
had led back his legions, and his veterans were
about as insolent as in the times after the death of Commodus:
it is surprising how for two centuries these
wild beasts, in whose hands was the fate of the empire,
still let themselves be kept under as subjects. Octavian
had promised them the most flourishing municipal
towns and colonies of Italy,—one cannot for certain make
out which: in 710, the battle of Philippi took place;
and in 711, the founding of the Julian colonies. (I trust
that I shall one day ascertain these military colonies,
with tolerable exactness.) Every one knows that Cremona,
which had at first been a Latin colony, and afterwards
since the lex Julia, a municipium, had become
now—perhaps ever since the time of Sylla—a military
colony: it was on this occasion that Virgil’s life was
endangered. The allotments of those days far exceeded
the old proportions: the fields around for many square
miles were parcelled out, and a common soldier got from
fifty to a hundred jugera, a centurion double, a tribune
three times as much. If however, the territory of a
place thus doomed would not suffice, there was cut off
from a neighbouring district as much as was required
to complete the assignments; for the soldier was everything.
Thus when Cremona was allotted, a great part
of Mantua was taken in, which otherwise would not
102have been divided; and Virgil moreover lived about
three (Italian) miles from Mantua: from the distance
between the two towns, one may learn what was the
extent of such assignments. One can hardly form an
idea of it! All the landed property was entirely taken
away from the citizens, and given to the soldiers, from
whom the countryman of course generally had his piece
of ground again to farm; and perhaps he bought it all
back, in the course of time, when the new possessor
had lived too wastefully.
In Italy there now arose the greatest despair. Places
which had not offended in the least, nor ever once withstood
the Julian party, were confiscated just as much
as those which had sided with the Pompeians. Among
those who were driven out, there were no doubt in many
instances the sons of the old soldiers of Sylla: these
were ready to rush to arms, and were only looking
about for some one who would put himself at their head.
Two men now declared for them. One of these was the
consul L. Antonius, a brother of the triumvir, who was
seeking for an opportunity to overthrow the rival of his
brother, in which he was chiefly set on by Fulvia, his
sister-in-law. Fulvia was a termagant, a furious bloodthirsty
woman, profligate but clever: to Antony she
was attached with passionate love, and she had also been
faithful to him ever since she married him. The late
Queen Caroline of Naples, the wife of Ferdinand, was
by no means unlike her. Fulvia had been a deadly
enemy to Cicero; now she was jealous of Cleopatra, and
brooding over schemes for putting everything into confusion,
so as to bring Antony back to Italy. In Præneste
she gave out that the oppressed should be protected.
In the same manner, Tib. Claudius Nero, the husband
of Livia, had stood forth in Campania, and he seems
to have done it out of humanity and justice. Octavian,
however, never once lost his head. He was a coward;
but by degrees he had accustomed himself to look difficulties
in the face, events having matured him, and
103therefore, thanks chiefly to Agrippa, he now behaved
with prudence and address. He turned himself to his
veterans. Those generals of Antony who were near at
hand, showed themselves undecided; C. Asinius Pollio
in Gaul and Illyria, would not declare for Antony, though
in his heart he was for him; and thus Octavian succeeded
in isolating L. Antonius, who with part of the
old soldiers, with refugees, senators, and knights, and
also with Fulvia, betook himself to Perugia. There they
were blockaded by Octavian, and as peace seemed hopeless,
they held out to the last: at length, driven to it
by the most frightful famine, and left by M. Antony to
their fate, they capitulated. L. Antonius betrayed his
party, made up with Octavian, and was allowed to go
free with Fulvia who now withdrew to Asia. The veterans
went into the service of the young Cæsar, having
hopes of new assignments of land, as he promised to
take care of them as he would of his own men; the
newly levied soldiers also went over to him: and thus
there remained only the unfortunate senators, knights,
and inhabitants of Perugia, who were obliged to surrender
at discretion. Three hundred of these, all of them
men of rank, were offered up like beasts of sacrifice at
the altar of Divus Julius; Perugia was set fire to, and
burned to ashes, either during the pillage, or owing to
the despair of the inhabitants. The town was afterwards
rebuilt as a Julian military colony, under the
name of Augusta Perusia, as it is still called on solemn
occasions.
From the year of the Perusian war (712), dates Virgil’s
fourth eclogue, which is in praise of Asinius Pollio
under whose protection he then was, probably at Mantua:
Asinius was, at that time, all but an enemy to
Octavian, and very near taking up arms against him.
Now that all was over, Antony, who had concentrated
his troops in Greece, went across to Brundusium; and
there, by the mediation of Mæcenas and Cocceius, a
peace was concluded between him and Octavian, by
104which the civil war was put off for nine years. To this
period belongs Horace’s journey to Brundusium. (The
greatest part of his poems were written in his early
youth, or at least before the battle of Actium: his most
poetical time was about his thirtieth year.) As a bond
of peace, it was agreed that Antony should marry Octavia,
the widow of C. Marcellus, and half sister of Octavian,—not
indeed by Atia, and therefore not of the Julian
house, but by the same father. In the midst of a most
corrupt age, and in a bad family, she was a noble-minded
woman,—a sad example of the hard fate to which
persons of the highest rank may be subjected. She was
an exemplary wife: in her behaviour to C. Marcellus,
she was spotless; and such she was also to Antony,
who neglected her in the most shameful way. An excellent
mother she also was; but she had the misfortune
of losing her dearest son, the hope of the Roman people:
of her children by Antony, the Antonia who was
afterwards married to Drusus, the son of Livia, seems
alone to have been worthy of her. Antony got the empire
of the east as far as the Ionian Sea,—the self-same
division which was projected under Severus, nearly settled
under Diocletian, and at last established under the
sons of Theodosius; the west was given to Octavian;
but Lepidus was to have Africa, and doubtless Sicily
also and the islands between those countries.
But Sicily was then in the power of Sextus Pompey,
the younger son of the great Pompey. He had, after
the battle of Munda, collected a force among the Celtiberians,
and in the year of Cæsar’s death he carried on
an indecisive war against Asinius Pollio. When the
amnesty was decreed, at which time he was at Marseilles,
he was recalled together with the rest by the
senate; the value of his father’s property was to be refunded
to him, and the imperium oræ maritimæ was
promised him. This imperium, however, he had first
to create. When the proscriptions came out, he was in
great danger: Antony was in possession of his paternal
105mansion on the Carinæ, and for the sake of it, he was
already trying to have him killed. He did not therefore
venture to come to Rome, but surrounded himself
with all sorts of adventurers, and gathered together a
swarm of pirates such as his father had crushed,—in fact
the sons of these, and even in some instances the self-same
men: he was their natural patron; for, according
to Asiatic custom, the conquered placed themselves
under the protection of the conqueror. Thus he made
himself master of Sicily, which was still quite a Greek
island: his pirates too were either Greeks or hellenized
Asiatics. He was joined by Statius Murcus, with part
of the fleet of Brutus and Cassius. With the rest of it,
Domitius Ahenobarbus carried on the war for two years
under his own auspices; after this, he united himself
with Asinius Pollio, and by him was reconciled to Antony,
to whom also he then attached himself. Antony
had, even before the battle of Philippi, been foiled in
an attempt on Sicily, and moreover Sextus Pompey
had very much strengthened himself since; Antony
therefore and Octavian now began to treat with the latter
by themselves, taking no heed of Lepidus, whom,
without asking his leave, they confined to Africa. There
was a peace made near the headland of Misenum. Pompey
went to them on shore, and trusted himself to them
with some generosity; they, on the other hand, with a
magnanimity which was otherwise foreign to them,
went on board his flagship, and partook of a meal with
him. One of his commanders wanted on this occasion
to cut the cables of the anchors, and to seize them; but
Pompey ordered that it should not be done. By this
peace Pompey had Sicily, and as it is stated in an account
very likely to be true, Achaia likewise, together
with Sardinia, given up to him; so that he had the
heart of the maritime dominion. In this possession he
peacefully maintained himself for four years.
Sextus Pompey is said to have been sermone barbarus.
He was indeed a rough fellow, and had lived abroad
106from his earliest youth; but we see in what a corrupt
and neglected state the vulgar tongue must at that time
already have been. People only who were highly educated
spoke well; it was a particular refinement, a perfection
of language, which, if not carefully cultivated,
was very liable to degenerate before long. Cicero tells
us of the sermo urbanus of the time of Lælius, and remarks
that the ladies of that period spoke an idiom of
uncommon elegance.[23] But now this refined style was
already gone off, as is the case at the present day nearly
everywhere, even in England and France. Sextus
Pompey was a mere condottiere like Antony and others:
he thought of nothing beyond maintaining himself in
Sicily and those parts, the restoration of the republic
being no concern of his. By the peace of Misenum, all
the proscribed were allowed to return to Rome.
Peace having been thus restored, Antony turned to
the east, where Labienus had fled over to the Parthians.
The latter was one of those men whose fate does not
inspire any sympathy: he was a seditious tribune in
Cicero’s consulship, and afterwards a tool of Cæsar’s
usurpation. His family also was a seditious one: his
uncle had been slain with Saturninus, and he had tried
to avenge him upon C. Rabirius, one of the few still
living of those who with Marius had stormed the Capitol,
thirty-seven years having passed since then. Labienus
was an intriguer from inclination, not from need,
as he was very rich: he threw himself into the arms of
Cæsar, and distinguished himself as an officer in the
Gallic wars. Afterwards, it is not known for what reason,
he went over to Pompey, to whom he remained
faithful. Then, after the battle of Pharsalus, he went
to Africa, and from thence to Spain; after which he
again makes his appearance in the army of Brutus,
takes a part in the battle of Philippi, and at last betakes
himself to the Parthians. He now led a Parthian army
107to Syria, and these barbarians, when commanded by one
of Cæsar’s comrades, achieved things such as they had
never done before: yet after gaining several victories,
they were at length driven back by Ventidius.
The same family policy as that of Labienus is met
with at that time in more instances than one. That
Asinius Pollio was so determined an enemy to Pompey,
Cicero, Brutus, and the other Pompeian senators, whose
characters he must otherwise have liked, whereas the
Cæsarians were not at all to his taste; was owing to
nothing else but personal feeling. It so happened that
when Pompeius Strabo, the father of Cn. Pompey, overcame
in the Social War the Picentines and Marrucinians,
the prætor of the Marrucinians was slain, Herius
Asinius, the father or grandfather of Pollio (very likely
his father; for he also called his son again Herius Asinius).
For this reason, he looked upon Cæsar’s party
as the Marian one, and attached himself to it as such.
This was also the case with Munatius Plancus, a man
of distinguished intellect, and not to be slightingly
spoken of; but whom in other respects I cannot uphold.
He was a Tiburtine, and all the inhabitants of
Tibur, Præneste, in short, all the Latins, were thoroughgoing
partisans of Cinna; so that Munatius quite naturally
became a Cæsarian, as Cæsar, who was Cinna’s
son-in-law, might in truth be deemed the representative
of his party.
Antony now again withdrew to the East, and being
separated from Cleopatra, he lived for some time with
Octavia, until he obliged her to go back to Rome.
Whilst he now stayed in Asia, and sometimes also in
Alexandria, he was allured by the hope of Asiatic trophies;
for the Romans still smarted under the disgrace
of the overthrow of Crassus. The Armenian king Artavasdes
had made advances to him. The whole of the
Parthian empire consisted of a number of distinct kingdoms,
which in reality were vassal principalities, and
not mere satrapies of the king of kings who kept his
108court at Ctesiphon near Seleucia. Antony marched
with a large army through Armenia and Aderbijan to
Media, the true Irak Ajemi; and there he besieged the
town of Phraata. (The geography of those parts we
know very little of.) His plan was wretchedly devised.
Owing to the impassable nature of the ground, he had
left his battering engines behind, with two legions
under the legate Statianus to protect them; this depot
was taken by the Parthian sovereign Phraortes, and
the two legions were cut to pieces. Afterwards the
main army also was so closely pressed, that Antony,
having narrowly escaped the fate of Crassus, had to retreat
to Armenia: the fourth part of his army had been
annihilated, and most of his baggage entirely lost. Antony
now returned to his revels with his paramour, to
whom he gave Cœlesyria, Judæa, and Cyprus for her
empire, a thing which highly disgusted the Romans.
To that kingdom, as the coins of Cleopatra show, the
puzzling name of Chalcis is given, which I cannot account
for in any way: it is certainly to be understood
of this realm, and not of the tetrarchy of a later day.
The life of Antony by Plutarch is a very lengthy one;
but there are many very remarkable accounts in it,
which he had still heard from his grandfather or great
grandfather, especially about the frightful distress which
there was in Greece: the parallel with Demetrius is
very happy. To this period belong the stories of the
profligate way in which he spent his time, squandering
in eastern luxury and pomp the sums which he had extorted
from the nations. The only feeling that one can
have with regard to Antony, is that of satisfaction that
all is over with him. Here he forgets the shame which
he had suffered in war. Fortune, however, was yet
once more favourable to him; for the king of Media
besought his protection, and showed himself inclined to
acknowledge his supremacy instead of that of the king
of the Parthians.
In the meanwhile, Octavian took up arms against
109Sextus Pompey. The soul of this war was Agrippa,
who built a fleet on the Lucrine Lake, which he converted
into a sort of harbour, where he exercised his
ships: a fair ground of quarrel did not exist. Twice
was the fleet destroyed by storms: when it was restored,
Agrippa gained a glorious victory near Mylæ (Milazzo);
but at Tauromenium, Octavian’s ships were utterly
routed before his eyes, the commanders of the
Pompeian fleet, to crown his disgrace, being freedmen,
Mena (Μηνᾶ = Μηνόδωρος, not Mænas; we know the
name from Horace’s Epistles)[24] and Menecrates. Octavian’s
troops had landed under Cornificius, one of his
most faithful servants, and had likewise been beaten,
almost indeed annihilated: Agrippa retrieved matters.
Another fleet was built, and now Agrippa won a great
naval victory. Pompey left Sicily, sought the protection of
Antony, and staid for some time in the Levant. Antony
was favourably inclined towards him; but whilst he
wavered as to whether he should receive him or have
him executed, Pompey, owing to one of those fatal orders,
was murdered by a proscribed person in Phrygia,
a deed which was yet more shameful, as he had formerly
made it a point in the peace of Misenum, that all the
proscribed should be reinstated. Whether the house of
the Pompeii became extinct with him, or whether the
consul Sextus Pompeius in the reign of the emperor
Tiberius was a descendant of his, is more than I can
say.
Cæsar was now master of Sicily. He had called on
Lepidus to give him aid from Africa; but the latter,
who was discontented with the smallness of his share,
and insolent on the strength of the power which belonged
to him, had delayed, and had only come over at
last with a considerable army, when matters had already
become very much entangled. He then began to
quarrel with Cæsar for the possession of Sicily; and he
110seems to have been quite in the right, if in such a division
of robbers there can be any question at all of right.
But Lepidus had neither the respect nor the love of any
one, not even of his own soldiers; and therefore Cæsar,
who was his superior in determination and address, betook
himself into his camp,—the boldest feat of his
life!—and called upon the soldiers to declare for him.
The thing succeeded: the daring recklessness of the
step, perhaps also the feeling in favour of Cæsar’s adopted
son, but more especially the hope of a great donation,
such as Lepidus was not able to give, had its effect.
Lepidus was forsaken by all the world. Octavian assigned
him Circeii for his abode; and thus the whole of
the west was united under him. In that dreary place
near the Pontine marshes, which is only beautiful from
the sea-side, Lepidus passed the rest of his life, having
the title, but not the power of a pontifex maximus.
The immediate cause of the war which ended with
the fight at Actium, was the divorce of Antony and
Octavia. The latter had brought to him very rich
presents, military stores, and troops which she had
raised for him, and had gone with them to meet him
to Athens; yet he would not see her, but ordered her
to hand over the presents to his officers, and then to
go back to Rome. There, however, she was not to
dwell in his house, although she had even the children
of Fulvia with her; and when moreover she still went
on living as his wife, he sent her a letter of divorcement,
and married his paramour, which was a great
outrage in the eyes of the Romans. The war now began
under circumstances which left no doubt whatever
as to what its end would be. Antony indeed had formerly
been a much superior general to Octavian; but
the best commanders were now on the side of the latter,
who could also recruit his legions, which his rival
had not the means of doing, as he ruled over quite different
races of men, and could get nothing better than
deserters to fill up the ranks of his army with. Where
111Antony seemed to have the advantage, was in his fleet;
for the Phœnician and Greek nations were at all times
far more seafaring than those of the west: had these
resources been for ten years in the hands of an able
man, they might have given him power; but owing to
the carelessness with which Antony had wasted his
means, they were useless. The fleet of Octavian consisted
of the remnants of Pompey’s, and also of the ships
which Agrippa had lately built: these last were small
sailing vessels, whereas Antony had immense rowing
galleys fitted up with towers and additional decks,
rather as if for fighting by land, than for manœuvring
by sea. Agrippa, who to all intents and purposes was
Octavian’s admiral, displayed from the very first quite
an extraordinary activity.
At the entrance of the gulf of Ambracia, near the
Corinthian colony of Actium, Antonius collected his
fleet; so that in the event of a favourable issue, he
might have the passage open to Italy: the fleet of Octavian
was lying off the Thesprotian coast. As the fleets
faced each other, thus also did the two armies at the
entrance of the gulf of Prevesa. Agrippa undertook
several detached enterprises, and by taking Leucas and
Patræ in the rear of the enemy, made it uncommonly
difficult for them to get provisions. In the battle, the
strength on Antony’s side was greatest; and if perhaps
he could not have conquered, he might at least have
stoutly disputed the victory, had not Cleopatra and the
Egyptian ships taken to flight with womanish cowardice,
at a moment when nothing as yet was lost. Whether
Antony thought in his jealousy that Cleopatra meant to
sacrifice him and gain over Octavian, or whatever it
was; forgetting everything else, he followed her in a fast
sailing vessel, and was received in her royal ship. The
whole of the fleet which remained, being thus bereft of
the strongest ships, was now destroyed by that of Agrippa.
All was then lost. Antony was in despair: between
him and Octavian no peace was possible; for the conquered
112there was nothing left but to die. Three days
was he angry with Cleopatra, whom he had followed to
Alexandria; but her power of bewitching him was so
great, that he made it up with her again. He still tried
to deceive himself as to the terrible condition in which
he stood: he hoped that his land force would be more
successful, as it was very much attached to him. It is
remarkable how faithfully in these wars the troops still
clung to their leaders: it was quite different under the
Macedonian successors of Alexander, when, even on the
field of the battle, the soldiers would pass over from one
side to the other. After Antony had left his troops,
though hard pressed by Agrippa, and in spite of all Octavian’s
great promises, they held out with unshaken
fidelity for six days, nor would they believe that he was
not to return; but when Canidius, his lieutenant, also deserted
them, they acknowledged Octavian as imperator.
With this the war was ended: whatever Roman legions
there were still in the eastern provinces, yielded without
a struggle; though indeed there were some trifling
exceptions, owing to personal motives.
The battle was fought on the second of September
721. This ought to have refuted those later writers,
like Gellius and Macrobius, who did not see with their
own eyes, and who would have it that the old rule was
still held, that no battle could be fought on the days
after the calends, nones, and ides, without its being unlucky
for Rome. At that time, the whole state of affairs
was unpropitious; but yet, all circumstances considered,
the victory of Octavian over Antony was the
most fortunate thing that could have happened. What
Horace says of it, is perfectly just; and no man of
sense, let him think of Octavian what he will, could
have had any other wish than that he should conquer.
Eleven months passed before the war was quite over.
Octavian went back to Italy, where new commotions
had broken out; for the veterans, who were as unruly
as ever, were again crying out for allotments of land.
113Agrippa took possession of the eastern provinces; but
it was not until the spring of the following year, that
Octavian marched through Asia Minor and Syria to
Egypt, so as to force the claustra of the country, near
Pelusium. There was probably a secret order from
Cleopatra to open the gates of the place, as she was
afraid of war: it is very likely that as a vain woman
she felt sure that she should be able to enslave Octavian,
even as she once did Cæsar who was so much against
her. The only thing that she seems to have been afraid
of, was that the war would be prolonged, and that Octavian
would come to Alexandria quite implacable. But
Octavian made an attack likewise from the other side,
from Parætonium in Libya. This, however, was not
feasible for a large army; for although there were fortified
towns in that quarter, the country between Cyrene
and Alexandria is one of the most inhospitable regions
in the world. Here Antony had still a number of
Roman soldiers, both cavalry and infantry, with which
he wanted to make a sally; but the troops went over
to the enemy, all but a few who had no hope left, like
Cassius of Parma, one of the murderers of Cæsar. Antony
therefore made up his mind to die; but his end
was cowardly and pitiful: the deadly thrust was not
strong enough, and he lingered on for a considerable
time, slowly bleeding to death. Cleopatra had shut herself
up in her palace with all her treasures: Octavian
wished very much to get her alive for his triumph; but
it was feared that she might choose the death of Sardanapalus.
On the first of August 722, the day that
Antony died, Alexandria capitulated; and on the morrow,
the gates of the town were opened to the Roman
army. Cleopatra kept the dead body of her lover in
her room: she wavered between the hope of gaining
Octavian, and the feeling that she ought not to live any
longer. Proculeius, an officer of Octavian, of whom also
Horace makes honourable mention, gave her his word
that her life should be spared, and tried to persuade her
114not to do any harm to herself: but when she saw that
Octavian would not on any account let her come before
him, but treated her like a slave; when she got no answer
to her prayers, that she might still have the countries
given to her by Antony,—for Egypt, for her treasures,
nay even for a life of freedom,—then it was, that
after having tried several sorts of poison, or not having
ventured to try them, she put the asps on her bosom,
and so killed herself.
Thus ended the civil war and the triumvirate: in
fact, there had for the last years already been no more
triumvirate, as Lepidus had been set aside. Augustus
was now sole ruler of the Roman world. The first of
August was by a decree of the senate appointed for ever
as a holiday, under the name of Feriæ Augustæ:[25] the
month of Sextilis henceforth had the name of August,
even as Quintilis, in which Julius Cæsar was born, had
been called after him July. Augustus would have liked
better to have had September, in which he was born,
named after him; but as all the great events of his life
had happened in August, and in that month he had also
first entered upon the consulship, the preference was
given to it. These Feriæ were celebrated with banquets,
festivities, garlands of flowers, and the like, and
were still observed in the days of Placidia, and even
down to the reign of Pope Leo the Great. It was in
fact a political festival, but accompanied with libations
and other religious ceremonies, all of which were kept
up on that day to the latest times. For this reason,
the festival of Vincula Petri[26] was (according to
Beda and Biondo of Forli) appointed for the first of
August. In the church of S. Pietro in Vincola on the
Esquiline, in the baths of Trajan, the chains with which
115the apostle St. Peter was bound in Rome, as well as
those which he wore at Jerusalem, are deposited; and
the public secular holiday, with its feasting and revelry,
still remains, just as it was on the Feriæ Augustæ of
old. Even now, whoever is in any sort of clientship in
the later meaning of the word, visits his patron on this
day; the servants in the houses of acquaintances have
presents given them, as it is with us on the first of
January; and the people spend the money which they
get in treating themselves. When first I lived in Italy,
I was very much annoyed at this impudence, until I
found in Biondo that it was the keeping up of a most
ancient custom. There are many of these usages in
modern Rome, which have their origin from the remotest
antiquity. Down to the last century, it was still the
practice to carry a carved image of the Virgin on a certain
day out of the city, and to wash it in the river
Almo, as was formerly done with the image of Cybele.
A number of such old customs are now become obsolete;
for instance, an image was carried from one church to
another, and back again, by way of paying a visit. The
festival of the first of August has been called, all through
the middle ages to this very day, Feragosto.
Here ends the old Roman history: the last contest
was the death struggle, and from henceforth the history
changes its character. Here I hope also to end my
(large) work. The events which followed, down to the
fall of the empire, may most suitably be divided into
the histories of the several emperors, the first of whom
the ancients themselves quite rightly deemed Augustus
to have been; for Augustus he was now already called.
Yet there is still to be described the transition from an
usurped tyrannis into a regularly constituted monarchy.
ROME A MONARCHY. EASURES OF AUGUSTUS FOR THE CONSOLIDATION OF HIS POWER.
116
Augustus had already been more than once invested
with the consulship. His first was in 709; the second,
which he immediately afterwards resigned, was ten
years later; two years afterwards came his third; the
others, down to the eleventh, followed year by year: he
was altogether thirteen times consul. It was soon after
the end of the war of Actium, that he behaved as if he
wanted to lay down his power as dictator. This was,
as every body knew, a farce; nor could he have been
taken at his word, as the whole army had sworn obedience
to him, and besides the soldiers, no citizens were
under arms. And no man in his senses could have
wished him to resign his authority: for, if under far
more favourable circumstances, when very many eminent
men were living, and people were still quite accustomed
to the republic, the free constitution had not
been able to stand its ground, and the state was ruled
by individuals; how should it now have held its own, if
Augustus had given up his power: some one else, and
very likely some more unworthy person, would have
been placed at the helm; and thus there would only
have arisen new civil wars. The senate therefore may
have been quite in earnest when beseeching him; and
Augustus may also have put on a serious face, as he
hoped thus to have his former cruelties forgotten. To
show the exact date of the rise of his power might be
impossible, or at least very difficult. The name of Imperator117was now—this was a peculiar form of flattery—given
him as a prænomen; so that instead of C. Julius
Cæsar Octavianus, he was now called Imperator Julius
Cæsar Octavianus: from thence, Imperator was always
the prænomen of the Roman emperors; as we may see
from the coins. In the second century, this was forgotten:
in official style indeed one said Imperator Antoninus
Augustus, but otherwise Imperator M. Antoninus
Augustus as well. Octavian in fact wished to have
Romulus as a kind of agnomen; but as some took umbrage
at this, it was resolved on the motion of L. Munatius
Plancus—who now distinguished himself by his
flatteries, just as had been done among the Greeks with
regard to their Macedonian rulers—to call him Augustus,
which the Greeks at once translated into Σεβαστός. The
dictatorship was offered to him; but he declined it:
this may have been owing to superstition, from which
he was not free. It is possible that Sylla’s and Cæsar’s
ends frightened him; but perhaps also, the thing seemed
to him to be too straightforward, and it pleased him as
it were to play with it. But he was named consul every
year, if he chose: they wanted to make him sole consul;
but he refused it, and rather wished to have two
consuls to help him: this again was opposed by the senate;
“one besides him was already too much.” At
the same time, the proconsular power out of Rome was
given him over the whole of the empire, and he could
always exercise it by deputy; so that he was enabled to
give away the provinces at his pleasure. With the censorship,
he got the privilege of excluding from the senate,
or calling into it, any one whom he chose. By
virtue of his office of tribune, he could annul the decrees
of the senate, and interfere with every act of all
the magistrates: moreover it gave him the provocatio
from all judicial decisions, which is the source of the
modern appeal. He was tribune for life, and as such
had the right of calling the senate together, of making
motions, and of putting matters to the vote: this first
118began in the seventh century, and no one was now
startled at it.[27] To Lepidus he left indeed the name of
pontifex maximus; but after his death, he had that dignity
also conferred upon himself, and thus he engrossed
the whole authority of the spiritual law. Moreover, he
had, by means of the tribunician and censorial powers,
the supreme control over the ærarium; so that, by an
artificial accumulation, all the powers of government,
with the exception of the administrative ones of the
præetors and consuls, were concentrated in his person.
When Augustus, after the battle of Actium, tried to
give a new form to the state, he, for the sake of appearance,
went back in everything to the ancient form.
Cæsar took into his own hands half of the elections,
and at last even all of them; but Augustus restored
the elections which were held by the comitia, though
the Candidati Cæsaris now stood, of whom it was an
understood thing that they were to suffer no repulsa.
The poets of that time, for instance Horace, speak of
the ambitio Campi, and of the uncertainty of the elections,
in language which one could only have used in
the days of the republic; and there is some truth in it:
for Augustus did not give himself the trouble, or did
not take it upon himself to meddle with all the elections.
This was so much the case, that owing to Egnatius
Rufus in particular a tumult arose; as the latter,
in defiance of the person who represented Augustus,
and in violation of the leges annales, stood for the prætorship,
just after he had been ædile; and also, immediately
after his prætorship, for the consulship: to such
a degree was the show of liberty kept up! Yet, after
all, assemblies of the people were in reality confined to
those elections. Of plebiscita no mention is made in earnest
in the reign of Augustus: for we cannot reckon
that to be one, which Pacuvius, a tribune, brought forward
to have the month of Sextilis called August. Of
119laws, there were several passed: the form in which this
was done, was that a decree of the senate was laid by
the consuls before the centuries, and approved of by the
latter. This, as there is reason to believe, may have
lasted until some time in the reign of Tiberius, to judge
from the Lex Julia Norbana: afterwards we do not
hear any more of laws properly so called.
Cæsar had already introduced a host of adventurers
into the senate, and Antony a great many more; and it
was just the same in the times of the triumvirate.
Augustus now caused it to be made known, that those
who felt that they were not fit for the senate, had better
to leave it of their own free will; so that he might
not have to strike them off the list: whoever acted thus
should be treated in the most considerate manner. A
few only, not more than about fifty, did so. As this
was not enough, he put out a great many more: but
not to hurt their feelings, and because he feared for his
life from their offended vanity, he left to them the latus
clavus and the first seats in the theatre; which was a
great consolation for those wretches. He raised the
census senatorius, which for an indefinite period had been
double the census equestris, to a million sesterces: at the
same time, he behaved liberally, and to those whom he
wished to keep in the senate, he made up what was wanting
from the public means. The senate had until then
its regular sittings three times a month, and extraordinary
ones only when summoned; Augustus reduced
these to two, and gave it holidays during the months
of September and October. Even now, the whole of
October is still the vacation time at Rome; after the
end of September, no more business can be done: under
the emperors, all the courts of law had vacations in the
autumn, which was a thing quite unknown in the days
of the republic. In the senate, nothing else could be
taken in hand but what the consul laid before it, as to
him belonged the jus relationis. Augustus, however,
was also princeps senatus; and as such he revived the
120claim he had by the old forms to the jus relationis, a right
which had been dropped in the later times of the republic.
He now formed for himself another and more select
council of state, which had previously to discuss all those
matters that were to be brought before the senate. Anything
like a debate in the senate is no more to be thought
of: all that was proposed, was sure to pass; there was
nothing else done but making fine phrases and compliments.
The extraordinary powers which Augustus had, he
caused to be given him, after the battle of Actium, first
for ten years; then, for five; then, once more, for five;
then, three times, for ten years: in the very beginning
of the third decennium, he died. The tribunician authority
he had given him for life. The senate had formerly
been, for their Roman subjects, the supreme court
to judge political crimes; and this privilege Augustus
left to it, so as to shift the odium thereof from himself
upon the senators: it afterwards became their chief
business. With the taxation, the senate had nothing
whatever to do, as Augustus had the control over the
finances of the whole empire, and could raise or lower
the taxes. In Italy itself there was no land-tax, even
as with us there is none on the seignorial estates; but
indirect taxes were paid, and of these there was a variety,
as, for instance, on legacies and bequests, and when
slaves were made free. Even as the hereditary Stadtholder
of Holland was Captain General and high Admiral,
so was Augustus master of the whole army, that
is of the forty-three or forty-seven legions, and of the
innumerable auxilia, about 400,000 men in all: over
these, the senate had not the slightest power, not even
over the enlistment of them. The provinces in which
no troops were regularly stationed, and which therefore
did not belong to the military department, (Italy, as the
country of the sovereign people, was excepted from all
these regulations,) came under the care of the senate:
these were Asia, Africa (so far as it was not subject to
121Juba), Gallia Narbonensis, Hispania Bætica, Achaia,
Macedon, Bithynia, Cyprus, Crete, and Cyrene.[28] For
himself, Augustus kept by far the larger and richer
share, namely, Spain, all but Bætica; Gallia Lugdunensis
and Aquitaine; the countries north of the Alps,
Rhætia, and Vindelicia; Dalmatia, Pannonia, (Thrace
had a king,) Mœsia; Pontus, (Cappadocia had a king,)
Cilicia, Syria, and Egypt: the revenues of these provinces
may have hardly been sufficient to keep the armies
which lay there in fortified camps. The senate
had two proconsular and ten pro-prætorian provinces;
but it was not until five years after a man had been
consul or prætor, that he could be admitted to cast lots
with those who were to preside over the provinces.
Augustus made some wholesome changes with regard
to the arbitrary rule which was exercised in the provinces;
certainly in his own provinces, yet very likely
also in those of the senate. Until then, all governors
had unchecked power to take whatever they pleased:
he was the first to assign fixed appointments to these
functionaries. His governors, whom he chose indiscriminately
from the senators, viri consulares, prætorii, and
knights, were called legati Augusti: as we learn from coins
and inscriptions, their official title was legati pro Consule,
Prætore, and so forth. The senatorial governors were
as before, for one year; those of Augustus, for an indefinite
period; for four, five, or even ten years. This was
a very happy change for the provinces; yet the ones
which had an imperial governor, were much better off
than those which were senatorial: in these last, we are
sorry to meet with actiones repetundarum; even as late
as the second century; in fact their whole establishment
was but a pageant for which the subjects had
to pay dearly. There was a double ærarium, that of the
senate, and that of the emperor: how far the latter had
also the disposal of that of the senate, is more than we
122can tell. Among the proofs of Augustus’ thoughtfulness,
are to be reckoned measures like the Lex Ælia
Sentia, by which a stop was put to those disgraceful
emancipations which brought down the franchise to the
very lowest slaves. The way in which the Roman citizens
were spread far and wide, was prodigious: the
franchise reached much beyond the frontiers of Italy,
and Narbonnese Gaul, and a great many places in Spain,
had likewise the privileges of citizenship. Such provincials
could not, however, get into the senate. Yet even
to this rule there were exceptions: as early as in the
days of Cæsar, some of them had been brought into it;
and under Augustus there were yet more, especially from
Provence, where Latin was spoken very early, so much so
indeed that the country itself was called Italia altera.[29]
The number of the capita civium, as is given at that
time,—somewhat more than four millions,—seems to us
frightfully small; for we are not to look upon it as that
of the fathers of families, as all free men who in their
sixteenth year had put on the prætexta must be reckoned
therein. One quite shudders at the falling off of
the population, and by this again we learn how great
was the rage and fury of the civil wars.
Among the praiseworthy regulations which he made,
are also those about the police of Rome. The state of
the capital was awful. Since the days of Sylla and the
proscriptions, no one at Rome was sure of his life, nor
was there any kind of police: to see this, we have only
to read the orations of Cicero pro Cluentio, pro Milone,
pro Sexto Roscio Amerino; in Suetonius, we meet with
accounts of bandits (grassatores) openly showing themselves
in Rome with their short swords. Augustus,
with great determination, put that down. We see what
consequences will arise, when old institutions are allowed
to go on without being modified according to the
wants of the times: that which at first was wise and
123expedient, in after days becomes perverted and mischievous.
Augustus made a new division of the city.
Rome had kept all its municipal arrangements even as
Servius Tullius had left them: it had four regions, and
also the liberties of the Aventine, as a sort of suburb:
the real suburbs were quite neglected. These four regions
had vici, and this perhaps was also the case with
the other districts: all police matters there were under
the charge of the ædiles plebis, which was quite insufficient.
Augustus, without troubling himself about what
was old town, new town, pomœrium, and so forth, now
divided the whole extent of the city, as it was then
really inhabited, into fourteen regions: over each region
he placed a magistrate, and it had likewise a number
of vici, every one of which was presided over by a
magister vici. This division proved excellent, and by it
security was restored in Rome. Owing to the extension
of the empire, the Roman magistrates, who at first
had been the magistrates of a city, could now no longer
give their time to city business; and therefore several
magistratus minores had been established: but these
offices had no authority, and they were in the hands of
freedmen, as no man of any rank would have anything to
do with them. Some years after the battle of Actium,
Augustus instituted a præfectus urbi in whom the whole
of the city administration was concentrated: this place
he bestowed according to his own pleasure; L. Piso held
it for twenty years. The good done by this magistracy,
and his most happy choice of the person who filled it,
was one of the chief causes which gained for him the
affection of the inhabitants of the capital. Moreover
he set up a sort of Gensd’armerie, vigiles, cohortes urbanæ,
which had to act and to be at hand whenever it
was wanted; as when there was a riot, a fire, in short,
anything serious. The men were in barracks, thus
forming a sort of garrison which he might keep without
its making any show. He also established a præfectura
ærarii, very likely, not only for his own ærarium,
124but also for that of the senate: at least, the imperial
treasury afterwards absorbed the other which had formerly
been managed by quæstors. For all these offices
he chose, from a εὐπρόσωτος αἰτία, equites Romani, not
senators: these last, cringing and fawning as they were,
still had a mighty opinion of their own dignity.
By a lex Julia, the courts of justice had been entirely
restored into the hands of the knights. This law he
maintained; but he prodigiously increased the lists of
the jury (the decuries), inasmuch as for petty cases he
admitted persons of less fortune than the census equester
required.
Italy had accidentally grown into one mass. At
first, it had not reached beyond the south; but by little
and little it had been stretched further to Cisalpine
Gaul: Etruria and Umbria thus belonged to it, whilst
the Rubicon was the boundary between it and the provinces.
Augustus now extended it, as was right, to the
Alps, and this Italy he divided into a number of regions.
What was the meaning of these regions, cannot be made
out; but one would almost believe that they must have
had some reference to the quæstors, of whom, at that
time, there were forty to collect the revenue, and also ten
prætors. Whether presidents besides were given to such
districts, like the consulars appointed by Hadrian, and
the correctores under Severus; is a thing of which there
is no trace to be met with in the reigns of Augustus
and his immediate successors. By this I do not, however,
mean to say, that they had not some sort of authorities
over them; for the supposition that the region
must have had a corresponding office is so very natural.
At a later period, we find in inscriptions and in books
very many notices, which bear upon the subject; but at
this time, none whatever.
Augustus had a huge private fortune. He possessed
whole principalities, of which Josephus gives us a very
striking example in the will of Herod, who bequeathed
his property to the family of the Cæsars: such kings
125and tetrarchs very often left all that they had to the
emperors. The stewards of the countries which belonged
to these last, were the procuratores Cæsaris: they were
generally knights, but never senators; they might even
be imperial freedmen, though perhaps this was not yet
the case under Augustus. In the provinces, the emperor
was so absolute, that Augustus, for instance,
changed the whole registration of land in Gaul without
asking any body’s leave, were it only for form’s sake.
The soldiers all swore fealty to the emperor, certainly
also to the imperium populi Romani; but no one was
bound to the consul. The establishment of the prætorian
cohorts was no innovation. There had been such
troops from the earliest times, being a sort of guards
or orderlies, like the “guides des généraux” during the
French revolution: they are to be met with in the Punic
wars, and also in the civil wars, on both sides; and
they had arisen out of the former evocati. Augustus
had taken them back with him, and had founded twenty-eight
military colonies, as a means of checking any
popular movement; and that he might likewise curb
these veterans themselves, he formed the cohortes prætoriæ,
which in Italy represented in fact the armed Roman
people: they were chiefly enlisted, or raised by
conscription, from the districts of Latium which had
been the strongholds of the Marian party. At first, he
kept them scattered in Italy, so as to cause no alarm;
but by degrees they were drawn nearer and nearer, until
at last the castrum prætorium before the city was
built. Under Augustus there were about eight thousand
of them.
Formerly the provincials were called to arms only in
cases when a province was threatened; henceforth from
the subjects of all the provinces of the emperor, many
of whom had the lesser Roman franchise, cohorts were
formed, which we hear of under the name of auxilia,
and which may have made up about the half of the
army. Socii are no more spoken of at all. The legions,
126with regard to the organization of which in those days
one is quite in the dark, had to serve a regular term of
sixteen years; afterwards, they still remained for some
time under the vexilla as a reserve, and then they were
to have land assigned them. This system of allotments
was Augustus’ work, as was also the increase of pay.
Hitherto the soldiers had got the old pay of a hundred
and twenty denarii, or twelve hundred asses, yearly;
Cæsar doubled, and Augustus trebled it. This was, after
all, not much, about sixty dollars of our money; and as
the price of everything at Rome had then immensely
risen, it was not a large pay for fellows like these who
had the throne in their gift. Still, owing to the number
of soldiers, it was a burthen which the state could
hardly bear, as even Tiberius, who was a very able ruler,
already acknowledged.
LITERATURE.
Roman literature reached perfection through Cicero and
with him, even as our own did through Lessing, and we
may almost set down the year 680, when Cicero was in
the prime of his life, as the epoch in which it made this
step; the language shared likewise in this decisive advance.
However much there may be of the beautiful
in earlier times, yet there is always something wanting,
even in Cicero’s first writings; but all that was coarse
and clumsy is now thrown off, and nothing remains but
the pure and polished language. With the greatest justice,
the Latin of Cicero has been acknowledged as the
very best: it is, after all, the language which was spoken
by the well educated in his day, and had we more of
Cornelius Nepos than the Vita Attici, there again we
should also find Ciceronian latinity. As yet, Latin prose
had been altogether weak and unequal, being sometimes
spun out, and sometimes cramped: Cicero alone
127gave it its perfection. His influence also on his contemporaries
is incalculable: there is no doubt but that
the finish of Cæsar’s style is to be attributed to him and
to his age.
There was then a host of distinguished writers and
men of genius; and though of some of them we know
but little, they are not for that the less eminent. I do
not, however, mean to say that all who at that time
were remarkable in literature, are to be reckoned among
the classical writers; some of them, especially the older
contemporaries of Cicero, are quite in the spirit of the
earlier age: thus among us, Winkelmann, as to his style,
belongs to the period before Lessing. So likewise Varro,
who for his immense learning and reading in Roman
matters—in what was Greek, this may not have been
so great—had such a high renown, is, in all that is left
of him, not at all like one who lived in the same age with
Cicero: he is as strong a contrast to him as Mascov,
Mosheim, and Reimarus were to Lessing. Nigidius
Figulus also was very likely a writer of the same kind.
The real bloom of Roman literature consisted of men
who were younger than Cicero, and whom he beheld
springing up around him. One of these was the orator
M. Cælius Rufus, whom we may still judge of even from
his letters: his language was like that of Cicero for excellence.
Curio’s letters do not make the same impression
upon me: yet they are not of importance
enough for one to be able to give a positive opinion
about them, and I would rather trust Cicero’s own
judgment, who assigns him a very high rank. C. Licinius
Calvus, a contemporary of both, was an orator and
a poet as well: him also Cicero greatly esteemed; and
if Quintilian does not think favourably of him, Tacitus,
on the other hand, says that he really had talent as an
orator.[30] He died young. Sallust was considerably
128younger than Cicero, and of the same age with Cælius,
Calvus, and Curio: he went his own way, living in the
past, and the language and style of his contemporaries
remained foreign to him. As he was not conversant
with the language as it was spoken, it is no wonder
that his style has quite a different air from what we
find in theirs: as an historian, he is all that one could
wish. That Priscian charges some of those men with
archaisms, is nothing at all against them.[31]
This was truly the age of the poets. Living at the
same time, but not quite of the same standing, were
Lucretius, Catullus, and Calvus, the rival of Catullus,
the greatest poets of that day. Lucretius, whom men
have long tried to exclude from the poets altogether, is
now at length acknowledged in his high excellence as
such; not but what, had he chosen a more favourable
theme than that wretched philosophical system, he might
have done far greater things. But the greatest poet Rome
ever had, is Catullus. He never strains after words or
expressions: poetry flows from his tongue, it is with
him the very language which the impulse of the moment
brings out; every thought, every word of his, is
the expression of what he actually feels. He has the
same perfections as the Greek Lyric poets down to
Sophocles, and is fully equal to them. Other poets there
were, who, though undoubtedly his inferiors, were still
eminent. If we had C. Helvius Cinna; if we had other
poems than those still extant of Valerius Cato (whose
129Diræ are still very doubtful); if we had Valgius,[32] and
Ticida; we should read them with considerable pleasure,
we should acknowledge still more that the age was
rich in distinguished men, even though they were not
equal to Catullus: and this is certainly more than can
be said of any other period. Poetry is now becoming
inured to the strict rules of metrical forms: the greater
poems are composed in hexameters; the smaller lyric
pieces, in foreign or Greek measures; and the old Latin
forms are laid aside. The hexameter is rightly constructed,
and the cæsuræ carefully observed: in trifles
only, the Roman poets of those times have some peculiarities
to which they take a fancy; as for instance, in
the construction of the pentameter. Dec. Laberius, the
well known composer of mimes, no doubt was very original:
this sort of poetry consisted very much of improvisation,
being like the Sermones of Horace. Furius
Bibaculus was very pleasing; Varro Atacinus, the
translator of Apolonius Rhodius, is by no means to be
despised. Comedy had quite gone down, not even
mediocrities being mentioned.
This full bloom of poetry fades away at the time of
Cæsar and Cicero’s death, and a new generation takes
the place of the old one. Few eloquent men of that
period survive; Asinius Pollio, for example, who when
Cæsar died, was about thirty-four years of age, and
therefore had already formed his mind. As a writer,
however, he belongs to a somewhat later date, after the
war of Brundusium; for it was not till then that he
had completely retired from public life. From the fragments
of him in Seneca the father, we may gather that
his style was very unequal, but that he sometimes could
write very well, especially when impelled by passion; as
he did with justice against the Pompeians, and with
great injustice against Cicero. His was a soured and
embittered nature, without any kindly feelings. Another
130skilful orator was Munatius Plancus. Hirtius indeed
still belongs to the former age, but is not the less excellent:
he is a most elegant writer, although his whole life
was spent in the midst of arms. Asinius Pollio is the connecting
link between the two generations (which might
be called proventus,[33] φορά); just as Lessing is between
Klopstock, Winkelmann, Kant, Kästner, Gellert, Cramer,
on the one side, and Göthe, Voss, Friederich Leopold
von Stolberg on the other, not reacting upon those
who were older than himself, but paving the way for
the rising generation. Thus Asinius stands between
the time of Cicero and Virgil; for the latter may indeed
be mentioned as his contemporary.
It is a very just remark, that it is incorrect to speak,
as we do in Germany, of the Augustean age; we ought
only to call it the Augustan age, Αὐγούστειοι being met
with in Greek authors[34] only. Except in the case of
Livy, prose had entirely fallen off: besides him, there
was only Messalla, of whom, however, nothing is left to
us. And the cause of this lay in the state of things at
that time, as is shown by Tacitus in his excellent Dialogus
de Oratoribus. Prose was in times of old always
developed by oratory; it was poor as soon as people
ceased to speak in public. For this, however, there was
no more a free opportunity: the rostra were dumb, the
curia was hushed, and if there were still any speeches,
they were only λόγοι ἐπιδεικτικοί,—dismal signs of the
times! The only field therefore for prose was history,
which was written by Asinius Pollio and Livy: Valerius
Messalla alone, who was much older than Asinius,
and about the same standing as Virgil, was of any importance
as an orator. It may also be that he was more
remarkable for his nobleness of mind and his personal
excellence, than for extraordinary talent.
To the first half of the reign of Augustus, belong the
131brilliant days of Virgil and Horace, and of many other
contemporaries of less eminence. In Horace poetry
is still lyric; but afterwards it loses this character.
It adapts itself more and more to the Greek; the old
licences of metre are altogether set aside, and the Greek
being law in everything, it is a mere translating of the
Greek: it is Grecian poetry in Latin words. The language—except
in particular cases, for the sake of embellishment,—carefully
eschews every obsolete phrase,
and the written phraseology is in perfect harmony with
the spoken one. Though Virgil says olli, aulai, he never
does so in the Bucolics and Georgics, but in the Æneid;
and that from the same grammatical reasons which the
Alexandrian writers had for their rules for the Greek
epic style.
Virgil was born on the fifteenth of October 682, and
he died in 733, on the twenty-second of September;
Horace was born on the eighth of December 687, and
he died the twenty-seventh of November 744. We cannot
allow of the adoration with which the later Romans regarded
Virgil: he is wanting in that fertility and richness
of invention which his theme required. His Eclogues
are far from being a happy imitation of Theocritus, as
they try to produce something on the Roman soil which
could not be there. Theocritus’ shepherds have sprung
from true Siculian, and not from Greek materials;
they bear the stamp of genuine nationality: Daphnis
is a Sicilian hero. But when Virgil wishes to transfer
them to the sky of Lombardy, he places Greek names
and Greek peculiarities in a spot where they could not
exist at all. More happy is his didactic poem on husbandry:
he keeps himself in a middle sphere, and one
cannot speak otherwise than in its praise. The whole
of the Æneid, from the beginning to the end, is a misconceived
idea: but this does not prevent its being full
of beauties in its details; and it also displays a learning
from which the historian can never glean too much. No
epic poem can be successful, unless it be a lively, hearty
132narrative of some achievement of which the whole story
has become a kind of national heir-loom. It is a silly
remark of a still living historian, that an epic poem
would never tell with the people, unless the subject were
sufficiently old: if the events are such as every one
knows, and as can be made to receive a certain impress
of originality without losing their own distinguishing
character, then they are fit for epic poetry, and for the
arts in general. This is the reason why subjects from
Sacred History are so well adapted for the historical
painter: it is because the beholder understands at once
what the artist wants to represent, and is able to bring
to mind the whole of the associations with which the
picture is connected. Subjects from mythology are far
more hazardous, inasmuch indeed as the artist himself,
and with him the many, are too little acquainted with
them, and they cannot therefore but seem somewhat
unmeaning: in ancient times, however, such mythological
subjects were as much household words among the
people as the Sacred History is with us. Generally
known events in modern history would now be perfectly
well suited to be dealt with by the artist. So long as
in a nation there be legends which every body is sure
to sing and know by heart, there will always be something
which one may choose as one thinks good, and
pick out as the subject for an epic poem. Thus the
epos makes choice of a single part, whilst the cyclic
poem, on the other hand, takes in a whole series of tales.
Such is the wretched Pharsalia of Lucan. Virgil took
a Latin story, and dove-tailed it into Greek legends;
whereas had he wanted to have anything out of the Roman
legends, he ought to have treated it in the Italian
style: this might indeed have been very difficult, as that
kind of knowledge was no longer general; but it would
have been the only means of making a poem with much
life in it. Virgil is one of the remarkable instances of
the way in which a man can miss his true calling. His
was lyric poetry. The little poem on the Villa Syronis133and the Si mihi susceptum fuerit decurrere munus, show
that he would have been a poet like Catullus, had he
not made the mistake of wishing to write nothing but
Grecian-Latin poems. It is a pity that posterity so
much overrated the very work which was but a failure;
yet we may well account for it, as people were not able
to compare it with Homer, whom they did not know at
all, and its extraordinary beauties had their full effect.
Nor was the superiority of Catullus acknowledged until
the end of the eighteenth century. The first who spoke
without prejudice about Virgil, was Jeremy Markland:
amidst a terrible outcry, as if he had committed high
treason, he openly said what he thought. It was certainly
no affectation that Virgil wished to burn the
Æneid; that poem was the task of his life, and he had
in his last moments a feeling that it was a failure. I
am glad that he did not do so; but still we must in all
things learn to keep our judgment free, and even then
we cannot but love and honour him. It may be that
the tomb on Posilipo, which during the whole of the
middle ages was already shown as that of Virgil,—yet I
know not why,—is not his, and that the laurel on it
may have been replanted many a time; but notwithstanding,
I have gone to see it as a pilgrim, and the
laurel branches which I also plucked off at his grave,
are dear to me as relics.
Venusia, the birthplace of Horace, was a Latin colony,
founded between the third Samnite war and that of
Pyrrhus. This town, which had always been true to
the Romans, is mentioned by Appian (whose accounts
of this are very trustworthy) among those which revolted
in the Social War: it must therefore have lost its
Latin character, and, like the other peoples in those
parts, have rather become Lucanian and Oscan in feeling.
Horace says, that he went to school with the sons of centurions:
this is a hint that Venusia must have been a
military colony, and in fact one of Sylla’s, which may be
accounted for by that rebellion. Moreover, when Horace
134wrote the second book of his Sermones, a new military
colony must have been established there; for Ofellus,
whom Horace when a boy had still seen well off, had had
his allotment of land given away to a soldier. Horace’s
father was a libertinus; the cognomen of Flaccus, if the
father had it as well, would prove that he was not of
foreign, but of Italian race: his father may indeed have
been taken prisoner in the Social War, and sold for a
slave; for otherwise the children of freedmen have different
names. The father gave his son a very liberal
education: when Brutus came to Greece, Horace, who
was twenty-two years old, was staying at Athens
whither his father had sent him. He with several other
young Romans entered the army, and, what was an immense
honour for the son of a freedman, was promoted
by Brutus to be a tribune. This raised a good deal of
envy; but it shows him to have been a distinguished
young man, as there were at that time not more than
six tribunes to every legion. After the battle of Philippi,
he made his escape like many others, and was perhaps
under the protection of Messalla; then he went to
Rome, where he was recommended to Mæcenas, who
soon became exceedingly fond of him, interesting himself
for him even more than he did for Virgil: this kindness
of Mæcenas, Horace received with great gratitude.
Mæcenas made him a present of a small farm on the Sabine
hills, where, as he had indeed but few wants, he
lived retired and happy: in his latter years especially,
he was almost always there. The life of Horace by Suetonius
is very interesting; and from this work, as well
as from the poet’s own writings, Wieland in his commentary,
particularly on the Epistles, has said many very
fine things on his personal character and his position in
the world, and has cleared him of many a calumny: he
has shown that Horace deserves the reproach of being a
flatterer far less in truth than Virgil, as unfortunately
we cannot help allowing. His praises are the outpouring
of a general feeling, which he very fairly shared with
135other persons of his day. Wieland moreover points out
how he tries to keep himself from being dependent on
Mæcenas, and to push the golden chains aside as far as
he could do so without seeming ungrateful. Augustus
was not at all pleased when Horace did not dedicate to
him the first book of the Sermones, and also when he
wanted to have him for his secretary and he declined
it: he could not have hidden from himself, that Horace
was one of those who, notwithstanding all the good that
he had done, would not forget his former life, and always
judged of him by it. Wieland calls our attention
to a letter of Augustus, in which he betrays how much
he felt Horace’s indifference, and says, An vereris ne
apud posteros infame tibi sit quod videaris familiaris nobis
esse? We can hardly have the odes in chronological
order: some of them were written very early, perhaps
even as far back as the time that he lived in Athens:
of many indeed it is impossible to give the exact date;
and though most of them were composed before the
war of Actium, the first three books were not published
till afterwards. Some of the Sermones also belong to a
very early period: the earliest that we have of his, is
perhaps the banquet of Nasidienus, that is to say, Salvidienus,
according to the undoubtedly correct remark
of the scholiast; just as Malthinus stands for Mæcenas,
so that the fictitious name has the same quantity as
the real one. Against a man who had become unfortunate,
Horace would not have written after his execution;
and therefore the poem must date soon after the
battle of Philippi, 710. To the last years of his life belong
the fourth book of the Odes, and the second of the
Epistles.
Horace, as a poet, was once admired beyond all
bounds; but for the last thirty years or more, he has
not had justice done to him. His imitations from the
Greeks are of wonderful beauty, and they have also
much in them which is his own. Yet for all that he
has many faults. When searching for an original expression,
136he sometimes contents himself with another
which is none of the most appropriate or the most terse:
if one keeps this remark well in mind, many of Bentley’s
emendations fall to the ground. Moreover he has
two great failings. One is quite annoyed at his misappreciation
of the earlier writers; the times had
quite changed, and hence he took a dislike to many
things because they were strange in his day, more especially
to archaisms. How he could have been blind to
the merits of Plautus, is quite inconceivable: the age
to which he belonged had wrought on him the same effects
which difference of nationality has on other men;
many an expression may have quite gone down to the
common people, and thus have become vulgar, so that
Horace was shocked by it. This feeling may have been
much increased by his disgust at those who made a
ridiculous parade of quaintness, playing the same farce
as the exaggerated admirers of the middle ages among
us. And besides this, painful is the impression which
is made upon us by the irony of Horace’s Epicurean
philosophy, owing to which he, in fact, looks upon everything
as a folly, and tries to sneer at everything, treating
what is most venerable with irreverence: this becomes
at last a bad habit with him. Yet there is excuse for
this in the age in which he lived; in better times, it
would not have been thus. One sees in him a mild and
quiet man, who in truth was always constrained and
reserved; the wild, reckless Catullus, with his loud
laugh, and his loud wailings, comes more home to our
hearts: the same tone which there is in Horace may
also have been that of Menander, and the latest Athenian
comedy. Horace did not choose to let his heart
bleed, and thus he puts us indeed into a sadder frame
of mind. When a real good is lost for the people, one
should not deaden the feelings to it, and try to make
the world thoughtless; but one should carry the grief
for it within one’s breast, and let it have free course,
yet without cherishing or artificially fostering it. “He
137who has lost a real good,” says Friederick Leopold Von
Stolberg, “has often much left to him, if he retains the
consciousness of what he has lost.” Horace with all
this is still ever noble and amiable: he has only misunderstood
an unhappy age. He lived nearly to his
fifty-seventh year.
Of the same standing as Horace was Tibullus an
Eques Romanus: he was one of those whose fortune had
somewhat suffered in those stormy times. The year of
his birth is unknown to us: from an epigram which is
ascribed to Domitius Marsus (Te quoque Virgilio comitem
non æqua, Tibulle, &c.), we merely gather that he
died soon after Virgil. Yet there is some doubt about
that epigram: the way in which Horace addresses Tibullus,
seems to bespeak a contemporary. Of Tibullus,
the first two books are not to be doubted; but the third
cannot possibly be his, although the name of the author
can hardly be Lygdamus: for it may only be substituted
for the right one, as being of the same quantity.
Thus it is also with the names of women: that of the
mistress of Propertius, whom he calls Cynthia, was Hostia;
that of Tibullus’ Delia, was Plania. Owing to party
spirit, people will not admit the truth of Voss’s remark,
that in the third book there is quite a different metrical
character, and also quite another turn of expression:
he who does not see this, is in my opinion no judge of
questions either of grammar or of metre. A distich has
been rejected as spurious because it clashes with the
chronology of Tibullus: the poet of the third book was
born, like Ovid, in 709, under the consulship of Hirtius
and Pansa, as he says himself:—
Natalem primo nostrum videre parentes,
Cum cecidit fato consul uterque pari.
These verses cannot be struck out. The fourth book is
just as little Tibullus’ own: the panegyric on Messalla
is the production of some poor fellow who was in want of
a patron, and certainly not that of a knight. Both books,
138the third and the fourth, are by authors who are inferior
to Tibullus. The smaller poems which bear the names
of Sulpicia and Cerinthus, may be Tibullus’ own; but
they are almost too good to be his: there is too much
strength and boldness in them. To me, Tibullus is an
unpleasing poet: this womanish and maudlin grief, this
unantique sentimentality, are mistaken tones of Mimnermus,
which to me are unbearable; and above all, in a
Roman.
Somewhat older perhaps than Horace was Cornelius
Gallus, a man of rank who had also tried his fortune in
war, and whom Augustus had appointed governor of
Egypt, in which post indeed he behaved shamefully.
He must, however, have had his amiable qualities, as
Virgil was so fond of him, and introduced his praise in
the fourth book of the Georgics: it was to replace it,
that the poet had afterwards to put in the episode of
Aristæus. Having been convicted of very disgraceful
things, Gallus put an end to his own life. He had
translated Euphorion, and written elegies, of which, however,
one line only remains. He must have been a distinguished
poet, though what goes under his name, all
but a few fragments, is not genuine. If he is called
durior, this perhaps implies that he had the old language
and versification of Catullus and Lucretius, which
Quinctilian might indeed have found harsh.
One who also lived at the same time as these men,
was Varius. Of him we have unfortunately but a few
verses; the ancients, however, ranked him with Virgil
and Horace among the great poets of that age; he was
especially renowned for his tragedy of Thyestes. This
is a very unhappy subject; and I am afraid that there
was a good deal of rant in that piece, and that it stood
in the same relation to Greek tragedy as the Æneid to
the Iliad. The tragic poets of that age in all likelihood
no longer had before them the old Athenian tragedy,
like Pacuvius and Attius, but the Alexandrian; for
what was called the Pleias, was certainly something
139quite different from the old tragic poets. One may get
an idea of it from Seneca, whose pieces are certainly
not of Roman home-growth, but evidently formed after
foreign models: his lyrical part is limited to anapæsts,
and very rarely contains quite simple strophes of four
lines. If I had the choice, I would rather have Varius’
poem De Morte than his tragedy.
This was the noble group of the poets of that age,
such as seldom have met together in this world. These
poets Augustus found living when he made himself master
of the state; they have passed the shortest part of
their lives under his rule. But now a second generation
arose, which is really to be called the Augustan.
It begins with Propertius, whose poems are evidently
imitations from the Alexandrian school; whereas Horace
kept to the older lyric style, although Virgil already
begins to follow somewhat in the track of the poets of
Alexandria and Pergamus. Propertius must have been
born about 700. He was a native of Umbria, and his
youth was about the time of the assignments of land:
it was his ambition to be the Roman Callimachus or Philetas.
Much greater than he,—in fact, of all the Roman
poets whose works have come down to us, by far the
most poetical after Catullus,—was Ovid, born in 709.
Virgil is evidently disheartened by his lot; Horace’s
mind was painfully distracted in another way, as he
fondly loved Brutus; Tibullus, with his feeling heart, was
weighed down by evil times; Propertius was so affected
by the early loss of his property, that free enjoyment
of life and perfect ease never returned to him:
but as for Catullus, on the other hand, the unbounded
freedom of his humour sprang from the independence of
his fortune. His father must have been one of the most
eminent men in his province; he was a guest-friend of
Cæsar. Ovid was born with one of the most happy dispositions
that heaven can give, at a time when the
troubles of the Perusian war could only reach him in
140his cradle; he was in his thirteenth year when Cæsar
Octavianus conquered at Actium: thus his lightheartedness
and cheerfulness arose from the circumstances of
the age in which he lived. On this we are all of us dependent:
my own tone of mind is quite different from
what it would have been had I been born thirty years
sooner or later. Ovid was a young man of rank and
wealth at Sulmo, who began the world adorned with
every gift of mind and body: a greater facility no man
could have, and in this respect, he is among the very
first poets. In Schiller’s poems, one may every where
remark his struggle with the forms of verse, and the toil
with which he worked; whilst in Goethe’s early productions,
everything is as if written off-hand. The
Greek lyric poets also are never far-fetched; it is as if
they could express themselves only in the way in which
they did, and in none other: Horace, unlike them, is
plodding, and it is but seldom that anything, as it were,
bubbles out of him. In Ovid, all comes fresh from the
heart: his faults, which also run through his poetry, are
well known. The cause of his misfortune is a riddle
which no human sagacity will ever be able to make out;
and the endless stories which have been spread about it
are but so many absurdities. The utter depression of
his mind during his abode in Tomi has been turned into
a reproach against him; but I am rather struck with
admiration, that in this dreadful exile among barbarians,
his freshness and liveliness forsook him so
little.
One of his contemporaries was Cornelius Severus, of
whom we have a fragment which strengthens the opinion
that had he lived longer, he would have become an eminent
epic poet, infinitely superior to Lucan.
Pedo Albinovanus must also have been distinguished.
Whether he is the author of the poem to Livia on the
death of her son Drusus, seems not to be so certain as
is generally believed.
Livy was born in the consulship of Cæsar, 693, and
141lived to his seventy-fifth, or seventy-seventh year;[35] he
thus reached far into Tiberius’ reign. I have already
spoken of him before. History was the only thing that
one could then write in prose; eloquence had sunk into
wretched declamation, or mere lawyer’s pleading. He
was fifty years of age, or somewhat older, when he began
to write his history. The unfavourable opinion
which Asinius Pollio gave of him, certainly arose from
party spirit, as the latter could not abide anything that
was Pompeian. Livy’s great fame, in which no one of
his day has equalled him, is all built upon his historical
work; and this is the reason why he is not once mentioned
in Horace: very likely, he lived at first as a
teacher of rhetoric in complete retirement. A man
came all the way from Cadiz to Rome to see him.
In the literature of the Cæsarian period, I forgot to
mention Dec. Laberius, who was very distinguished and
original as a writer of mimes. If men like Laberius
and P. Syrus acted their mimes themselves, these were
evidently a kind of improvisation, a description of poetry
which was akin to the sermones of Horace, and partook
very little of the peculiarities of dramatic verse.
P. Syrus also ranked very high. Comedy had at that
time quite gone off; we do not even meet with mediocrities.
Of tragedies, the Thyestes of Varius only is
mentioned.—Valgius also belongs still to the time of
Virgil.
The political weakness of Greece in those days, before
the might of Rome, is not greater than the absolute nullity
of Greek literature as compared with the richness of
the Roman one. The Greeks were then nothing but rhetoricians
and grammarians, though these certainly deserve
an honourable mention: of poems, there are none worth
speaking of; even of epigrammatic talent there never
yet was such a dearth: only a few wretched epigrams date
from that age. Dionysius of Halicarnassus stands alone
142as a man distinguished for sense and judgment: it is
therefore not to be wondered at, that the Romans in
this respect also felt superior to the Greeks; and they
did not perhaps feel it as much as they should have done.
In the latter days of Augustus, literature again went
down hill most rapidly; and under Tiberius it had completely
run itself out. Those who were the leaders of
taste, and brought on the silver era, were Greek rhetoricians,
mostly from the Levant. From old Greece, as
far as I know, Plutarch is for many centuries after
Polybius the only writer of eminence.
PRIVATE LIFE OF AUGUSTUS. AGRIPPA. MÆCENAS. FAMILY CONNEXIONS. BUILDINGS.
The very many statues and busts which yet remain of
Augustus, bear out the statement of Suetonius, that he
was an uncommonly fine man. His decora facies he still
had even in his old age; we may trace the likeness in
his busts throughout the different periods of his life.
He is so beautiful that I very nearly got his bust; but
his personal character deterred me. He was however a
remarkable man in every respect. What he was reproached
with by the ancients, was want of courage;
but this is an imputation which is easily made, especially
if there is some foundation for it after all; yet
there were, on the other hand, instances also in which
he undeniably showed courage. In the war of Philippi,
there is indeed some ground for such a charge: at Mutina,
he perhaps was guilty of treachery; but in the
Pompeian war, no reproach of the kind attaches to him.
He was a bad general, and had no more luck in the field
than he had in his domestic relations. His falseness
and cruelty, I have before described; yet he had also his
good qualities: he was a friend to his friends, and put
up with many things from them; which considering
143his pride, is very surprising: towards Agrippa and Mæcenas,
he was neither faithless nor unthankful. In his
domestic relations, he was regardless of character. He
had at first been betrothed to Antony’s stepdaughter
Clodia, but the match was broken off; then he married
Scribonia, who bore him Julia of unhappy notoriety;
and then he put her away, and compelled Tib. Claudius
Nero, who had once been proscribed as a partisan of
Brutus, and who was also one of the best of the family
of the Claudii, to give up to him Livia. Livia, whose
ambition and thirst of power for her own family knew
no bounds, and who shrank from no crime, had gradually
gotten the most absolute sway over Augustus.
However much he sought to bring back purity of morals,
he himself was a thorough profligate; and this Livia
winked at. They were married to each other nearly
fifty years; and the longer they lived together, the greater
became her power. She must have been wondrously
beautiful in her youth, and amazingly clever: for a long
course of years, she strove with quiet patience to get
the dominion for her race; and for this purpose she
estranged Augustus from the whole of his family. The
only child she had borne him was still-born. So long
as Octavia, the half-sister of Augustus, and one of the
most respectable of the later Roman matrons, was alive
and had prospects for her son Marcellus, who was married
to Julia, she herself seemed to have been altogether
set aside. But after the death of Marcellus, Agrippa
became more powerful than ever, though he had already
gained such an ascendancy, that Augustus, had he not
loved him much, must have been afraid of him; and
now the emperor bound him to him by the marriage
with Julia, because he really feared him: Julia had by
Marcellus one daughter only. Agrippa was much older
than Augustus, with whom he had been as a sort of
tutor in Apollonia; it is not unlikely that Cæsar had
meant him to accompany his nephew as custos to the
Parthian war, as was generally done when the youthful
144Roman at seventeen first joined the army: thus Lollius
went with C. Cæsar. Before that time, nothing is mentioned
about him, nor can any one tell where he came
from; in Cæsar’s campaigns, he is not once named: he
is said to have been ignobili, even humili loco natus.
He afterwards shows himself to have been an experienced
general. Augustus’ best time was that during which
Agrippa’s influence was paramount with him; that is
to say, almost the whole unbroken period from the battle
of Actium to the death of Agrippa, whom no one accuses
of having had any share in the earlier crimes of
his pupil. It is he, above all men, who gave the state its
form; he is, more than Augustus, the author of the
most useful institutions,—perhaps also of some artful
ones, but certainly of all that had any good in them.
Besides which, there was something grand about him.
We have but one building left of his, the Pantheon,
which indeed is the finest relic of ancient Rome. He
had a genius for vast and magnificent works, for roads,
canals, aqueducts, baths: he so laid out the whole of
the Campus Martius, that Strabo is quite in ecstacies
whilst describing it. In the war against Pompey, he
displayed tried ability: moreover, he then built a fleet
and the portus Julius. He was thrice consul, and openly
laid claim to the highest honours: for he looked upon
them as his due, being anything but cowed and daunted
before Augustus. He died, I believe, in 740; Mæcenas
in 744, in the same year as Horace.
The friendship of Augustus was shared with Agrippa
by C. Cilnius Mæcenas, of the illustrious Etruscan house
of the Cilnii (Etrusci reges, reges atavi):—it must have
been a δυναστεία; the name is also met with innumerable
times on monuments at Arretium. This clan must
have had the Roman franchise even before the lex Julia;
for as early as Livius Drusus, a Mæcenas, as we
are told by Cicero,[36] was already among the equites splendidissimi.
145Horace seems to hint that the forefathers
of Mæcenas’ line, both on the father and mother’s side,
had been raised to the highest magistracy in the days
of Etruscan freedom:—
“—quod avus tibi maternus fuit atque paternus,
Olim qui magnis legionibus imperitarent:”
in all likelihood, both of these branches belonged to Arretium:
Mæcenas himself was merely a Roman knight.
With posterity, he has earned the honour of having been
a patron of the poets: we may rejoice that he showed
kindness to Horace and Virgil, without indeed troubling
ourselves about his motives for it, which we have no
means of finding out. He was a strange man, an epicurean
in the very worst sense; and he unblushingly
avowed it, as he set up ease and comfort as the highest
good in life. He displayed a more than womanish love
of life; for though in a wretchedly broken state of
health, he was glad to live, even in torture, if only live
he could (vita dum superest, bene est). There was also
something childish and trifling about him: he had a
foppish delight in trinkets and jewels, for which Augustus
often laughed at him. To the latter, he was a convenient
friend and a most agreeable companion; and
for all honours he expressed an epicurean contempt,
looking upon Agrippa’s love of distinction as folly. Yet
for all that, he may have cared not a little for having
influence; whenever Augustus consulted him, he got
very sensible advice. Once only he behaved in a manly
way. When Augustus, in the time of the triumvirate,
or in that of the Perusian war, was seated on his tribunal,
and was pronouncing one sentence of death after
another, Mæcenas sent him a note with the words “Get
up then, you executioner!” This looks like a man whose
heart is much better than his philosophy.
As long as these two men and Drusus, the younger
son of Livia, were alive, even as Tacitus already remarks,
Augustus’ government was really praiseworthy;
146but after their death there was a change for the worse.
Augustus in his earlier years had very precarious health,
and his life was several times endangered by illness;
one of these was in Gaul, and another was that from
which Antonius Musa recovered him by cold baths: it
was not until about his fiftieth year, that his health became
better. Long before this, whilst Marcellus was
yet a child, and he himself still very young, he had once,
when he thought himself dying, given his ring to Agrippa:
in his will he had made no arrangements about the
succession to his throne. When Marcellus grew up,
differences arose between him and Agrippa. Velleius,
who when he chooses to speak out, hits off many characters
with masterly touches, says of Agrippa, “Parendi,
sed uni, scientissimus.” To Augustus, he would
submit himself; but against all those who rose after
him, he was very bitter, nor would he be the servant of
Marcellus who was much younger than himself: in all
likelihood, had Augustus died then, he would not have
scrupled to put Marcellus and the sons of Livia aside.
Once Agrippa altogether withdrew to Mitylene, where
he would have nothing more to do with the affairs of
Rome; yet the way in which men paid their court to
him in the east, showed clearly that they all looked upon
him as their future master. But Marcellus died in his
twenty-third year, and a great hope of the Roman
world seems to have died with him; Agrippa now incontestably
stood in the first place, and Augustus gave him
in marriage his daughter Julia, the widow of Marcellus.
Yet though this alliance went far to secure the succession
for him and his sons, it very sadly embittered the
last years of his life, owing to the shameful depravity of
his wife; for he kept it secret from Augustus, who was
very fond of his daughter. Agrippa died before Augustus’
eyes were opened to Julia’s conduct, and left three
sons, one of whom was born after his death, and a
daughter, Agrippina, who afterwards became the wife
of Germanicus. She had all the pride and fine qualities
147of her father; she was an admirable woman, not unlike
Octavia. The two eldest sons, Caius and Lucius, Augustus
adopted into the family of the Cæsars, as he
meant one of them, namely Caius, to succeed him.
Whilst these young men were growing up, Julia was
married to the eldest step-son of Augustus, Tiberius
Claudius Nero. This young man had quite the character
of the Claudian race: he was uncommonly proud of
his high birth, and he held Augustus himself to be nothing
better than a municipal upstart from Velitræ,
who had been adopted into the Julian family; the gens
Julia he certainly looked upon as below the gens Claudia,
and therefore upon his marriage with Julia as a
match which was beneath him. Above all, he was deeply
galled by the infamous life of Julia, though for fear of
Augustus, he did not dare to complain of her. Being
on bad terms with Augustus, he withdrew on some pretext
or other to Rhodes, by which indeed he left the
field open for Agrippa’s family. At Rhodes he lived for
seven years, in the course of which the profligate life of
Julia was discovered, and Augustus now treated her
with unrelenting harshness: he had her transported to
Pandataria. (Drusus had already died in Germany, a
year before his elder brother went to Rhodes.) In vain
did Tiberius repent of the rash step which he had taken;
Livia for a whole year was unable to bring about a reconciliation,
Augustus having been so much hurt by his
going away that he would not hear of him, nor see him,
although he had asked for leave to return. Augustus
now employed L. and C. Cæsar in public business: Lucius
was sent to Gaul and Spain, to superintend the registration
of the land; Caius to Armenia. This Caius
Cæsar, Velleius speaks of in such a way, that, though to
pay his court to Tiberius, he may have represented some
things as worse than they were, we may well believe that
he was good for nothing, and that the Roman empire
would have been as unhappy under him, as it was under
Tiberius himself. In Armenia, where he had executed
148Augustus’ commissions, he was treacherously wounded
by an Asiatic, who very likely was got to do it by the king
of the Parthians. From this wound he never could recover,
and it was generally thought by the ancients
that it was poisoned by Livia: this is perhaps nothing
but prejudice; bus it is quite possible. Lucius had already
died before him, and it is pretty certain that it
was dolo novercæ. Tiberius, on his return after seven
years, was completely master of the field; and of Agrippa’s
family, Agrippa Postumus and Agrippina were all
that was left: that the former of these might not be altogether
set aside, he adopted him together with Tiberius
754. From that time, Tiberius was heir presumptive;
and it was not long before he got the tribunicia potestas:
as for Agrippa Postumus, he was still a boy, an insignificant
fellow, who did not stand in the other’s way.
It is a well known boast of Augustus, that he had
found Rome brick, and had left it marble; and this
was not saying too much: what is still left of his buildings
bears it out. He has built an immense deal,
and stamped upon Rome quite another character; his
buildings were in a style of extraordinary grandeur,
which altogether ceases in the later ones, the Colosseum
alone excepted. There still remains what was formerly
called Forum Nervæ, but what Palladio in his day, and
among the moderns Hirt, have recognised as the Forum
Augustum. The judicious Stefano Piali has shown that
the three colossal pillars which were formerly thought to
have been portions of the temple of Jupiter Stator, are
of Augustus, and belonged to the Curia Julia. The
great wall round the Forum Augustum, proves that at
that time the old grand style was still prevalent, which
lasted until the reign of the emperor Claudius, and first
changed under that of Nero: thus people came to fancy
that that wall was of the age of the kings. By Augustus
himself was built the Mausoleum, the inside work
of which still lasts indestructible; by Agrippa in Augustus’
reign, the Gate of St. Lorenzo and the Pantheon,
149besides the Theatre of Marcellus,—where the Palazzo
Savelli is, in which I used to live,—in the old massive
Greek-Etruscan style which had long been out of date
in Greece: hard by is the Portico of Octavia, of which
the entrance is still standing. Whatever on the Palatine
is said to be of Augustus, is at best very problematical:
of the temple of Apollo there is nothing left.
Augustus was the first to bring the Carrara marble into
use. A great number of high roads, both in Italy and
in the provinces, and very magnificent aqueducts were
made by him; among others, that of Narni, which indeed
is built of brick. Notwithstanding all these great
buildings, and all this magnificence, no one felt burthened,
as the Romans paid scarcely any taxes but a few
indirect ones; and therefore it is no wonder that Augustus
was exceedingly popular. We must also take
into the account the gloomy forebodings with which
men looked upon Tiberius: the words of Horace, Divis
orte bonis! came from his heart; people prayed in right
earnest to Heaven for his preservation.
WARLIKE ENTERPRISES OF AUGUSTUS. HIS DEATH. GENERAL SURVEY OF THE EMPIRE.
The first foreign war which he waged, happened between
the peace of Brundusium and the battle of Actium.
It was a campaign against the Dalmatians, and
he displayed in it considerable activity, and personal
courage, being wounded himself. The task of subduing
these countries was exceedingly difficult; but he broke the
power of the Dalmatians who dwelt on the coast. Soon
after the battle of Actium, the Cantabrian war began.
Very nearly the same countries which afterwards held
out against the Moors, Biscay, Asturias, the north of
Gallicia, and the confines of Leon, held out also then.
Augustus set himself the task of extending the Roman
150empire as far as the sea, the Rhine, and the Danube.
During the first year, he was, partly by illness, and
partly by business, kept in Gaul, where he settled the
affairs of the province; in Tarragona also, he fell sick
once more, and was thus delayed in his campaigns.
We have no details of these wars: Appian became
tired here, and perhaps he did not find them in any
Greek writer. Augustus’ memoirs must have had
very little value, as hardly any notice is taken of
them: he also tried poetry; but as far as we may
judge from his letters, he was a tasteless and worthless
writer. In the third year, the Asturians and Cantabrians
made their submission, and gave hostages. The
Basques maintain that they still have a poem on this
war in their own language; and Wilhelm Von Humboldt
possesses a copy of it, which I only know from his
translation.[37] I hold it to be as little genuine as the
poems of Ossian; Humboldt is of a different opinion,
yet he decides nothing. How should anything have
been preserved among the Cantabrians about this war,
which after all was of no importance whatever to them?
On the Moorish wars, which must have been much
more important to them, nothing whatever remains. Nowhere
else, either among Germans or other nations,
have accounts of the Roman wars been preserved: when
Wittekind of Corvey wrote, all memory of them had
entirely vanished, and this was certainly the case there
as well. The Cantabrians, goaded by the ill treatment
of the Roman governors, revolted again; thus it took
some more campaigns before they were altogether subdued.
Augustus founded several colonies,—Cæsar Augusta
(Saragossa), Julia Emerita (Merida, down to the
Arabian times a first-rate town), Pax Augusta (Badajoz),
Pax Julia (Beja), Legio (Leon).
About the time of this war, Tiberius, who was no
longer a youth, carried on another in Dalmatia, which
151he reduced. Before that, a Roman governor named
Crassus, had already made war in Mœsia, and had driven
back the Sarmatians across the Danube, and extended
the empire as far as that river. Pannonia likewise had
submitted during the Dalmatian campaign of Tiberius.
It was between the Dalmatian and Cantabrian war,
that Augustus shut the temple of Janus: according to
Suetonius, he seems to have closed it thrice; yet this
may have been a mistake. It had been done once before
in the Mythic age of Numa; and again, between
the first and second Punic wars, in the consulship of
T. Manlius Torquatus, 517.
Augustus had before this already directed his attention
to the Alpine races, such as the Salassians and all
the tribes of Rhætia in the widest sense of the word,—even
from the valley of Aosta, all through the Valais
and the Tyrol, as far as Noricum, which had a king, and
kept under Roman protection: they were mostly of
Etruscan stock. It is my belief that the abodes of the
Rhætians did not reach at farthest beyond the valley of
the Upper Inn, whilst the Vindelicians dwelt on the
northern slopes of the Tyrolese Alps, from the valley of
the Lower Inn to the Danube. These last were of Liburnian
race, as were also the Pannonians, who were
neither Illyrians nor Gauls, and were called Pæonians
by the Greeks, from whom we likewise learn
that they had a language of their own. The Helvetians
had submitted since the days of Julius Cæsar;
of the subjugation of the Rhætians and Vindelicians
under Drusus and Tiberius, we know but very little:
the accounts which we have of it, are very vague and
confused. Yet Von Hormayr has made up a romance
from them, wishing to prove that Italian and German
Tyrol ought to hold together: the notion is a correct
one, but is not to be deduced by treating history in this
way; nor did he do any good by it. It is evident that
the war was carried on by the Romans according to a
regular plan; and that the attacks were made from Italy,
152and on the other side from the Lake of Constance. The
Romans everywhere penetrated by degrees through the
inmost recesses of the Alps, where at that time there
were no carriage roads, but only footpaths, as was likewise
the case in the middle ages; and they so completely
reduced those tribes, that they never made an
attempt to raise their heads again. It was then that
Augustus founded in Vindelicia the city of Augsburg, a
colony of veterans, like all the colonies which he now
established. At this time, they began to let the veterans
settle where they had been encamped in war; and
thus they gradually became peaceful citizens: afterwards
their sons were liable to military service on better
terms. As for the exact period when this new arrangement
began, I do not think that any thing can be
found about it in the ancient writers. Owing to these
conquests in the Alps, there now arose the German
wars in 740: now first the Romans could act on the
offensive in Germany. The Sigambri, it is true, had
made before that an inroad into the country beyond the
Rhine, from whence they were driven back, but without
any permanent result. Until then, the Romans had
never reached farther than the Westerwald; new they
attacked the Germans from the Lower Rhine and from
the Danube: that they never came to the Upper Rhine,
but went up no higher than the Lahn on the Lower
Rhine, shows that Swabia was not as yet a German
country, and that it was first made so by the Alemanni.
These wars we would gladly detail more fully; but unfortunately
Dio Cassius is mutilated here. In the Venetian
manuscript, from which the rest are derived, the gaps
have been disguised to take in the buyers, and this has
been copied in all the others: the defective fragments
discovered and edited by Morelli, but which are not
found in the common editions, give one a little light,
but only very little. In one of these campaigns, as Roth
conjectures, Domitius Ahenobarbus may for the first
time have crossed the Elbe in Bohemia; whereas formerly
153most of the expeditions were led from the Lower
Rhine against the Elbe. Their wars were carried on
by Nero Claudius Drusus (the younger brother of Tiberius),
who made three campaigns: he crossed the Weser,
and penetrated towards the Elbe. He reduced the
Bructeri, the Sigambri who were then so renowned, the
Cherusci and other tribes: this is all that we know of
his wars. Nor in any of these accounts is there once
the name of a locality given; for the enemy had no
towns, and the villages were swept away, and are not
mentioned by the Romans: the Germans did not possess
any strong places in which they could hold out, and
their only protection was the impassable nature of the
country. Being unable to stand their ground against
regular tactics, they were almost always beaten by the
Romans in the field; whole districts were laid waste,
the women and children dragged away into slavery, and
the men hunted down and killed like wild beasts. Although
Drusus is praised for his humanity,—and considering
that he was a Roman, justly so,—yet he was
ἀλιτήριος against Germany, and he may have done the
people as much harm as Varus himself did. He died in
his camp, Tiberius being strongly suspected of having
been the instigator of his murder: but this after all may
only have been believed on account of the hatred which
he had against the family of his brother, especially
against Germanicus. At most, Tiberius might have been
afraid lest Drusus should dream de reddenda re publica,
a fine day-dream which Germanicus really fostered.
Drusus had a monument on the Rhine, which for generations
was held sacred both by Romans and foreigners:
where it was is now unknown.
After his death in 745, Tiberius took the command.
But soon afterwards followed his absence of seven years,
during which little happened except that the Bructeri
defeated the legate M. Lollius, annihilated his legion,
and took his eagles. When Tiberius returned from
Rhodes, his stepfather bestowed upon him the command
154in Gaul, that he might complete the conquest of Germany.
Tiberius subdued the Sigambri, Bructeri, and
Cherusci, and penetrated as far as the Elbe: there
he was joined by the Roman fleet, which had either
been equipped in the Ems, or had come from the Rhine
to the Ems. How far it went up the Elbe cannot be
made out; it may be that it got as far as Magdeburg,
yet the Roman galleys were not able, like steam-boats,
to run against the stream. After these campaigns, Tiberius
again left Germany, as his predecessor had done,
and as many of his successors did after him. The Romans
wished to crush the Germans; but it did not seem
worth their while to keep the country.
Whilst the tribes about the Hartz, and in the Thuringian
forest, had their country invaded by the Romans,
there existed in Bohemia the great kingdom of Marbod,
which is indeed a perplexing phenomenon: we read of
a large city in this realm, of an army of seventy thousand
men, and of a body guard. Moeser rightly observes,
that one is not to believe the Germans of those days to
have been less civilized than the peasantry of Westphalia
and Lower Saxony are now; only they were wanting
in the refinement of those who live in towns:—their
houses were certainly built like the worse ones which we
have; the dwellings of the princes were very much the
same as the buildings of the middle ages. Nothing is
more preposterous than to take them for rude savages,
when they were merely rough country people. Venantius
Fortunatus, in his poem to Radagunda, speaks of the
fallen splendour of the kingdom of her house, and of the
bronze covered palaces of her forefathers, the Thuringian
kings. There were indeed some things different
from what they are now: in winter, for instance, they
had certainly to burn candles by day, and when it rained
to shut up everything with boards, because they had no
glass windows; yet this was the case in Rome itself
where there are houses of this kind to this day. Marbod,
however, must have really had a civilized kingdom.
155He had immigrated with his Sueves into Bohemia, and
subdued the Celtic Boians there: his seventy thousand
men betoken something feudal. Against Marbod, Tiberius
now armed himself; he meant to attack him on
two sides, himself advancing from Noricum and Vindelicia,
and Sentius Saturninus from the Rhine through
Northern Germany, the Hercynian, and the Thuringian
Forests. The Romans made great preparations, laying
down for many miles, across the Dutch and Westphalian
fens, large wooden causeways and wooden bridges—the
bridge over the Elbe near Hamburgh—of which
remains are found even to this day: the wood has stood
exceedingly well, except that it has become black in the
bogs. It was then that the consequences of the dissensions
among the Germans began to show themselves.
The northern Germans did not trust Marbod, and were
afraid of losing by him their freedom, like the Marcomanni:
these he had once left in the lurch, and hence
they were so broken down, that they could not now come
to his help. But whilst Tiberius was preparing himself
for the attack, Dalmatia and Pannonia revolted. During
this insurrection which lasted for three years, Marbod
remained inactive: the Getæ also, and the Dacians,
who had formerly often crossed the Danube, and fallen
upon the Roman frontiers, now kept still, luckily for
Rome, which otherwise might have been brought into
fearful trouble. Augustus, quite appalled, trembled at
the danger: it was reckoned that there were two hundred
thousand men able to bear arms among these
tribes; two Dalmatians, both of them called Bato, and a
Pannonian, Pinnes, were their leaders. Velleius, who served
in this war, tells us of their high state of civilization,
especially of the Pannonians, nearly all of whom had
Roman manners and spoke Latin: they must have been
very much akin to the Romans, otherwise this would
be hardly conceivable, as the Roman dominion there
was still so recent. In this war the rebels spread as far
as Macedonia, once driving back a Roman army which
156had come from Asia; and it was only by the extraordinary
bravery of their soldiers that the Romans gained
the victory after all. At last the nations fell out, and
one of the Batos treacherously gave up the Pannonian
general Pinnes to the Romans. The Pannonians were
the first who submitted, and the Romans seem to have
granted them very favourable conditions. Tiberius was
now free to go against Marbod, who would have thus
met with his punishment for having kept aloof, had not
another event taken place.
The whole of the country between the Rhine, the
Westerwald, and the Elbe, was about the year 760
brought under the rule of Rome: the Chauci, who dwelt
in East-Friesland and Oldenburg, and the other inhabitants
of the marshes were quite as much subdued as
the Bructeri and Cherusci in Westphalia Proper. Quintilius
Varus, who was of an old and illustrious patrician
house, and an able general, but had made himself notorious
for his shameful rapacity, quite thought himself
the governor of nations which only recked fear and
force. For him Arminius—whom we generally call
Hermann, but whose name was probably not this, but
Armin—laid a trap most cleverly. As things then
stood, it was very difficult for the Germans who had no
towns, to make head against the Romans: the German
cavalry was superior to that which the Romans had of
their own; but the Gaulish cavalry, which had the advantage
of better horses, and of more complete armour,
thenceforth constituted the flower of the Roman army,
in which it had such a preponderance, that the terms
which belonged to the cavalry service, were almost all
of them of Celtic origin: so paramount was Gallic influence
on discipline! Cunning against tyranny is all fair;
so that I cannot blame Arminius in the least for what
he did: the Germans had been most unjustly made
war upon by the Romans, whom they could not possibly
meet with open force. Arminius had in many Roman
campaigns served with German cavalry, and very likely
157had distinguished himself in the Pannonian war: he was
a perfect master of the Latin tongue, had the Roman
franchise, and the rank of a knight; and, by dint of the
greatest perseverance, he, as well as his fellow conspirators,
had gained the unbounded, and even childlike
confidence of Varus. Varus had made for himself a stationary
camp, where, as in a Roman province, he held a
court of justice which was a means for enriching himself;
like the law-courts of the oppressive high bailiffs
in Switzerland. The Roman soldiers were wont to purchase
leave of absence and discharge, as was formerly
the custom in the German army; for just as it was in
France before the revolution, they then only got part of
their pay: thus there might have been many of them
roving about the country. There seemed to be the most
profound peace, and the Germans made Varus believe
that they felt indeed quite happy in their growing civilization;
but when he was thus off his guard, and a great
part of the soldiers gone perhaps away on furlough, some
tribes in Lower Saxony revolted, as it had been arranged;
so that Varus was got to draw near those countries.
The conspirators persuaded him to turn off from the
highways (limites) which led from the Rhine to the
Lippe, and through Westphalia as far as the Weser;—these
were straight roads cut through the woods, not
yet paved indeed, but laid with logs; and when he had
ventured sufficiently deep into the impassable forests,
the insurrection broke out on all sides. He then tried
to get back to the limes, and above all, no doubt, to the
chief Roman stronghold in that part of the country,
Aliso on the Lippe, in the neighbourhood of Hamm.
The spot where Arminius routed Varus is no more to
be ascertained: the only sensible way of tracing it, is
to find out the direction in which the roads may have
been laid down from the principal posts; yet even thus
much cannot be made out, as the difficulties were every
where pretty nearly the same: we might, however, perhaps
take Cologne as such a starting point. It is infinitely
158harder to give an opinion on this subject, than
on Hannibal’s passage across the Alps. On the first
day, Varus was attacked on all sides; he lost a good
deal of baggage, and with much trouble entrenched himself
in a strong position for the night. The following
day, he continued his march; but his columns were already
seized with panic, so that in the evening when
they wanted to pitch their camp, they were scarcely
able to make head against the enemy’s attack: Varus
and several of his chief officers, overcome by their despair,
now put an end to their lives, dreading the account
which they would have to give. It was then
perhaps that Numonius Vala—very likely the one to
whom Horace addresses one of his Epistles[38]—and three
alæ separated themselves from the infantry, and tried
to cut their way out; but they also were overpowered,
as they deserved to be for having deserted their own
comrades. On the third day, the whole army was annihilated;
three legions and as many alæ (the cavalry
attached to a legion), together with ten cohorts, were cut
to pieces: a legion consisted of six thousand foot, and
three thousand horse. The Germans took an awful
vengeance upon their oppressors, in which there was
moreover a great deal of superstition, many of them
being sacrificed to the gods.
Of this victory the Germans, owing to their want of
union, could not make the use which would have been
desirable, and which Armin wished. It is true that very
many Roman forts were taken and destroyed, and much
besides may have been done, as the Romans have undoubtedly
left many disasters untold; yet notwithstanding
all this, Nonius Asprenas kept the left banks
of the Rhine with two legions: the everlasting lamentable
dismemberment of Germany, checked in this case
also its progress, although its peoples tried to rise. Cædicius
held out in Aliso, until at last he found an opportunity,
159when the Germans were dispersed, of fighting
his way out with the rest of his brave men to the Rhine,
where he stopped the advance of the enemy. Owing to
the victory not being followed up on the side of the
Germans, Germanicus was afterwards enabled to wreak
his vengeance in his unhallowed expeditions.
The news of the disaster of Varus came like a
thunderbolt on Augustus, who was one of those men
who are given to fear the worst. At Rome it was
thought that the Germans would cross the river, and
destroy the legions on the Lower Rhine, and that the
Gauls would also take up arms and unite with the Germans;
so that a war in the Alps seemed near at hand.
No doubt Augustus expected also that Marbod would
rise; but the latter, who had here an opportunity of
gaining eternal glory, shamefully kept quiet, for which
he afterwards ended his days a prisoner at Ravenna.
Augustus wished to make a general levy; yet he met
with great difficulty, owing to the inconceivable aversion
to military service which had all at once arisen
among the Italians: in Marius’ times one might have
raised as many legions as one wanted. Fathers maimed
the hands of their children, to make them unfit for service;
soldiers were taken from the lowest ranks of society;
attempts were made to enlist freedmen; patrons
were induced to emancipate strong slaves on condition
of their entering the army: whereas formerly slaves
were punished with death, if they presumed to take
unto themselves the honour of military service. Tiberius
had orders to set out in all haste for Gaul: Nonius Asprenas
has the merit of having checked the tide; Tiberius
went on with the work. Afterwards, Germanicus,
the son of Drusus, was sent in his stead, who at once
took measures for an offensive war. But Augustus did
not live to see it.
Augustus was now full of days, but his health had
very much improved: he had in fact, during the last
third of his life, little or no illness at all. Thus he had
160gently become an old man, and was quite under the
thraldom of his wife, who grew worse as she grew older,
and shut out from all access to him every one who was
not subservient to her. Towards her own son Drusus,
she may indeed have had the feelings of a step-mother;
to Germanicus at least she bore a deadly hatred. Germanicus
and Agrippina were patterns of domestic excellence;
their married life, at a time when every trace of the
virtues of home had been lost, when elsewhere marriage
was merely a bond of indifference, and often even of hatred,
was most remarkably beautiful:—it was because
Germanicus was fondly attached to his wife and his children,
that he became an object of hatred to his grandmother.
Livia did not at all like Tiberius’ own son Drusus,
as he was too friendly with his adopted brother Germanicus,
though otherwise he had quite the character of his
father. Augustus passed the last years of his life in the
consciousness of being enthralled: he was unhappy in
more than one respect, and in this life already he had
to suffer for many of his misdeeds; the overthrow of
Varus put him utterly beside himself. Tiberius was
going to Illyricum, and Augustus wished to meet him
at Beneventum: he had passed several summers at Capreæ
in the bay of Naples, the most paradise-like spot in
the world, thus to recover from his cares and troubles,
while the mildness of the climate would prolong his life.
Here he fell sick, and was brought to Nola where he died
on the 19th of August 765, fourteen years after the birth
of Christ. The Romans laid a great stress on his having
died the self-same day as that on which he had got
the consulship for the first time by force; and on his
having had as many consulates as Marius and Valerius
Corvus together: to take any such things, is silly.
He died as sure in the possession of his rule as any king
who was born to a throne, and he gave his ring to Tiberius,
who already had the tribunician power: no sensible
man could doubt that the latter would now take
the government upon himself.
161The corpse was buried with almost godlike honours.
From Nola to Bovillæ, the decurions of the towns bore
it on their shoulders; and the equites Romani, from
Bovillæ to the city itself. Tiberius and his son Drusus
spoke the funeral orations from the rostra vetera and
nova, near the Curia Julia; and afterwards too, all such
orations, and the proclamations of the emperors, were
delivered from the new rostra.
The extent of the Roman empire when Augustus
died, was as follows. He had once entertained the idea
of conquering Britain; but he had given it up. The
empire, however, was not bounded by the Rhine, but
Holland and the adjoining Frisian countries were at
that time under the power of the Romans; farther to
the south indeed, as far as the Lake of Constance, the
Rhine really formed the boundary, which from thence
ran along the Danube to Lower Mœsia. But here the
Romans were not masters of the river’s banks, as the
Sarmatians often crossed it: the frontier was more to
the south; Tomi (Kustendji) actually lay outside of the
contiguous Roman empire. The so-called wall of Trajan,—it
improperly bears that name,—along the old
branch of the Danube, the salt water near Peuce, was
very likely now built by Augustus; the country north
of it, the Sarmatians overran without resistance: in
Trajan’s days, even Moldavia and Wallachia, nay the
whole range of land to the Dniester was subject to the
Roman sway. In Asia, Cappadocia was still a kingdom
under Roman supremacy; Armenia likewise in some
measure acknowledged the majestas populi Romani; the
Parthians had very much abated of their pride, and
there were hostages of theirs among the Romans, whilst
the standards of Crassus had been given back by Phraates;
it is of this that Virgil and Horace speak: in a certain
sense therefore, the dominion of Rome extended to
the borders of India. The real boundary, however, in
the East was the Euphrates: Syria, Egypt, Libya, and
old Africa were Roman; and the eastern part of the
162Numidian coast, which had Cirta for its capital, was a
Roman province. The Numidian kingdom had been
overthrown by Cæsar; but the learned Juba had by
way of compensation been presented by Augustus with
western Algiers and Morocco, the realms of Bocchus.
The rule of the Romans reached beyond Fezzan; they
might easily have come as far as the negro countries.
Those negro states on the rivers in the interior of Africa,
may at different times have acknowledged Rome’s supremacy,—at
least by embassies and tributes: we know
of a caravan-road to Fezzan and Cydamus; the Garamantes
are the inhabitants of Garama in Fezzan; (here
there is a mistake in d’Anville’s map;) a short time ago,
Roman ruins and inscriptions were found there by
Ouseley. Once, the Romans had made an expedition
against the Blemmyans in Dongola with success; another,
under Ælius Gallus, against Yemen on the Arabian
coast, was an utter failure.
The number of Roman citizens had very much increased
in the western provinces, from which also the
legions were principally recruited. There were in fact
forty-seven legions, and a corresponding number of
cohorts under arms. In Italy, there were only levies
in cases of emergency; and, on the other hand, the
army became more and more made up of the auxilia
and cohorts. Far more than nine-tenths of it were
certainly new citizens. The franchise, however, was
now of little worth; nor was it even always attended
with exemption from taxes.
As a civil law-giver, Augustus aimed at a different
object from what Cæsar did, who had wished to bring
within bounds the wide range of the Roman laws and
to have them worked up into one grand whole; just as
Peel wants to do with the common law of England.
This undertaking was very praiseworthy, however perilous
and thankless a task it may be to make new codes
of laws; but it is quite a different thing to bring the
existing laws into harmony with each other. Augustus’
163legislation, on the other, hand, was a new and arbitrary
one. The Lex Ælia Sentia is to be commended: in
other enactments, he was wishing to struggle against
the stream of custom and the monstrous immorality of
the age. An aversion had sprung up against lawful
wedlock, and the citizens lived in concubinage with
their female slaves, whose children likewise became
slaves, and mostly remained so; or at best, became
freedmen: thus the free population had very considerably
dwindled. One may say, that in the guilds of
the different crafts, nineteen out of twenty were freedmen;
this is shown by the names on the alba found at
Pompeii. Augustus was quite right in setting his face
against such a state of things; but the way in which he
did it in the Lex Julia and the Lex Pupia Poppæa, was
by most wretched make-shifts which only betrayed how
helplessly he was striving against the stream: their definitions
of honour, of the jus trium liberorum, and such
like were of no use.[39]
TIBERIUS.
If in the latter part of the history of the republic, the
end of an accomplished career still affords an interest,
although a painful one; even this ceases in the subsequent
history of the emperors, in which we no longer
find any more of that which charmed us in the earlier
times: it is the history of a huge, corrupted mass,
wherein brute force alone has weight; and in which the
doom of a hundred millions of men, and even more,
rests with one individual, and with the few who are
next about him. The western part of this world still
164keeps up a sort of unity, though a feeble one, in the
language which is common to the educated classes, yet
in the provinces degenerates into a jargon; in the east,
the Greek nationality is again established. It was a
state of things of which no power on earth was able to
check the march: from the war with Hannibal, there
is nothing but struggles to bring about a crisis; a hundred
years later, even this ceases. There was henceforth
but a play of mechanical powers, all those that had life
in them had entirely vanished. Nature is no longer
able to bring about a crisis: it is a dying away by
inches; an undefined, but deadly disease was at work,
which could not fail to bring on the end. For the history
of the world, this period is very remarkable; but
as the history of a nation and of a state, it is sad and
cheerless. In its practical application, it is still more
important than that of the republic; for it is indispensably
necessary for all branches of learning, especially
divinity and jurisprudence. It was not therefore without
reason that people formerly bestowed so much care
on the study of the history of the emperors: the knowledge
of this indeed is but too much neglected. I can,
however, only give a very slight sketch of it now.
The first part of the history of the emperors, we
should have in the greatest masterpiece which perhaps
antiquity has produced, had we the complete work of
Tacitus, who has written it from the death of Augustus
down to Trajan; first, the Historiæ, then the Annales,
which reach from the death of Augustus to the
accession of Galba. It is the general belief that the annales
ended with the sixteenth book; I have elsewhere
recorded my own opinion as to this point: it is more
likely that there were twenty books. As far as Tacitus
will reach, it would be foolish to seek for another
source; where he is wanting we must avail ourselves of
Dio Cassius, who, however, is also somewhat mutilated
here, and of Suetonius, who indeed is a most wretched
help. His idea of writing the history of those times in
165biographies, is quite correct; but he was not able to
carry it out: he did not know what he would be at;
and therefore there is no keeping in his work, and he
rambles from one thing to another. Tacitus, in his
Tiberius, has before him an anterior history; but what
work, is uncertain: perhaps it was that of the father of
the philosopher Seneca, which in all likelihood was one
of the best; or that of Servilius Nonianus. With regard
to the personal character of Tiberius, there are excellent
materials in Velleius Paterculus, one of the
most ingenious writers, whatever may be thought of
him in other respects: he has much of the mannerism
of the French writers of the eighteenth century, with
their affectation, and pretension to wit. Leaving the
badness of the man out of the question, he has much
experience, has seen a very great deal, and tells it well;
wherever he has no motive for perverting truth, he is
not only trustworthy but an excellent authority: his
narrative is strikingly beautiful.
Tiberius was the eldest son of Tiberius Claudius Nero
and of Livia Drusilla: his father was quæstor with Cæsar,
but afterwards joined the republicans, to whom he
seems to have been staunch and true; after the battle
of Philippi, he declared for L. Antonius and Fulvia, 711,
as he had to expect no mercy from Augustus. (Tiberius
was born in the year 710 according to Cato.) On the
unfortunate issue of the Perusian war, Claudius fled
with his family to Naples, and from thence to Sextus
Pompey in Sicily; Tiberius was then in his second year,
and his life was in the greatest danger. The father did
not stay with Pompey, who offended him, but fled to
Antony in Greece: he got his pardon at the peace of
Brundusium, and returned to Italy. Livia Drusilla was
daughter of one Livius Drusus, who, however, was not
directly descended from the consul and tribune of that
house: his real name was Appius Claudius Pulcher, and
he was adopted by Livius; so that both by father and
mother’s side, Tiberius came from the race of the Claudii,
166all the terrible qualities of which he had inherited.
Soon afterwards, Augustus compelled Nero to give up
to him his wife, who was with child at the time, and
brought forth Drusus in the Palace. Tiberius, being
the step-son of the Emperor, was brought up as a child
of the very highest rank; yet no one ever thought of
the possibility of the dominion of the world passing over
to him. Augustus had hoped for some time to have
children by Livia; and when this expectation was not
fulfilled, he built his hopes on the children of Julia, his
daughter by Scribonia, and especially on her husband
M. Marcellus, and her children by Agrippa. Tiberius,
who had a Greek philological education, displayed extraordinary
talents which he helped besides by industry.
Being at an early age employed in business, he
had the quæstura Ostiensis, and then he was sent to Armenia.
In everything that he did, he showed himself
very able, and public attention was aroused to his eminent
qualities: he was as much distinguished as a general,
as he was as a civil governor. But people very
soon remarked in him a great want of openness, with a
leaning towards vice, which he practised in secret, and
hid from the eyes of the world. Reserved and moody,
he had no friend, nor did he trust a soul but his mother:
he was especially on his guard against all those who
stood between him and Augustus, and from Agrippa and
Marcellus he stood aloof. This mistrust, for which as
much cause may have been given to him as he himself
gave to others, had the most injurious effects on his
character; very like those which were seen in the Emperor
Paul. Tiberius, and also his brother Drusus, and
his nephew Germanicus, were first-rate generals. Nature
had done very much for him: he had great judgment,
wit, and industry; indestructible health; a very
happily and beautifully organized body; a tall majestic
figure; a fine head: his statue and that of Augustus
are the finest among those of the emperors. He also
spoke extraordinarily well. After the death of Agrippa,
167who was his avowed enemy, his mother Livia and Augustus,
the latter of whom placed his reliance more and
more upon him—conceived the plan of marrying him to
Julia, a most profligate and abandoned woman: Tiberius
was very loth to make up his mind to this match,
although it brought him nearer to Augustus. Caius
and Lucius Cæsar, her two sons adopted by Augustus,
were then still living, who indeed stood between him
and the lordship of the earth. The conduct of his wife
lowered him in the eyes of the world in a way which he
could not bear, and made him the laughing-stock of
the Romans: he therefore wanted to go to Rhodes, as
he did not think that he could do anything against Julia.
There were at that time plots in the family of Augustus
like those in the houses of Cosmo of Medicis and
of Philip the Second: its members hatching conspiracies
and intrigues against each other. Augustus would
not hear of his going away; but Tiberius insisted upon
it, which Augustus took exceedingly ill. Before this,
Tiberius had distinguished himself in Rhætia, Vindelicia
and the first Pannonian war. Seven years passed
away, ere Livia, after the death of C. and L. Cæsar,
could manage to get the consent of Augustus to his return:
for he so hated him, that many thought to please
the Emperor by treating Tiberius with contempt. In
the meanwhile, Julia was condemned and banished by
her father himself: yet even this did not change anything
in the position of Tiberius; Livia’s rule only became
unbounded by degrees. Drusus was likewise dead.
When Tiberius at length came back, he was adopted
with Agrippa Postumus; the latter, however, was soon
banished for his brutal ways. Tiberius now obtained
the tribunician power, and was regularly made known
to the world as the one who was next to the throne: he
sat on public occasions by the side of Augustus, though
indeed it was not openly proclaimed that he was to be his
successor. All this time, he was of great service to the Roman
state: the danger threatening from Marbod arose,
168and then the insurrection of the Pannonians and Illyrians.
These last Tiberius overpowered with great difficulty;
and he was likewise successful against the Germans,
whose hopes he baffled after the death of Varus. In the
year 765 (14 after Christ), Augustus died at Nola, and
Tiberius, who was on his way to Illyricum, was in all
haste called back by a messenger from his mother.
In the will, Tiberius was left heir of two-thirds; with
regard to the commonwealth, however, Augustus had
not said a word, as if he had no decision to make on this
point. Yet every possible precaution was adopted to
preserve the power for Tiberius; the prætorian cohorts,
as soon as ever Augustus was dead, took the oaths to
him. As Tiberius held the tribunician power, which
was the symbol of supreme authority, he was able to
call the senate together whenever he liked, and to put
a stop to anything that was hostile to him. When the
corpse of Augustus had been brought to Rome, and his
ashes entombed in the Mausoleum, the funeral orations
having been spoken by Tiberius and his son Drusus;
the step was still to be taken by which Tiberius had to
put himself in the possession of the supreme power. He
now showed at once a remarkable duplicity: he was not
a coward on the field of battle; yet he was uncommonly
afraid of attempts upon his life. He had carried his
dissimulation to a pitch of refinement, being one of those
persons who can never make up their minds to speak
out, but must be guessed; like Cromwell, to whom he
otherwise has no resemblance: such men are not
seldom met with in every-day life, and they are quite
unbearable. Tiberius wished to have before the world
the appearance of a moral man, and yet to give himself
quietly up to all sorts of excesses: he never uttered
what he really thought, for fear of saying something
too much. With this character, he played the farce
with which the work of Tacitus most painfully begins.
There it is told at some length how he refused to take the
reins of government, and made the senate urge him to
169do it for the sake of the common good. When he saw
that he tired the people, he yielded so far as to compel
them to force him.
The first beginning of his reign is marked by a mutiny
of the troops in Illyricum and on the Rhine. It
was one of the institutions of Augustus, that the legions
had permanent camps on the frontiers, in which they
were stationed until the men were superannuated: after
having served a number of years, these were for some
time longer to be kept up as a reserve sub vexillis in
the provinces, as Augustus wanted to have as many old
soldiers who had seen service as possible; and then at
length they were to become quite free, and the whole
legion was disbanded, and a military colony established
for it. This system was a terrible one for the provinces
and for the soldiers; but in a military point of view it
was admirably suited for the protection of the empire.
Now were new legions first formed and sent out. Yet
what had been promised the soldiers, had not been made
good to them, and they had had to remain much longer
under arms than they ought: in this state of things, the
soldier became the terror of every one, being himself
frightfully oppressed and plundered by his officers. The
detailed account of this outbreak in Tacitus, is excellent.
Drusus overcame the danger in Illyricum; Germanicus,
on the Rhine. In reality, however, the government
had to give way: the ringleaders were punished,
but the rest got their relief, and had the advantages
of the reserve secured to them.
A very great change which took place at the first beginning
of Tiberius’ reign, was the abolition of the popular
elections, and the transferring of them to the
senate,—a change which after all was so completely a
form, and a farce, that Tacitus hardly bestows a word
upon it: it had no longer any reality; if it had, it
would have been useful. The so-called people which in
the days of Augustus held the comitia on the Campus
Martius, was the smallest and worst part of the nation;
170whereas the senate was the choice of it from all countries,
particularly from all Italy.—Of much importance
was the drawing up of a list, according to which the
governments were to be given.
Tiberius’ reign of twenty-three years is anything but
rich in events: in the very first years only, Germanicus’
wars in Germany give it some interest. For these,
however, I must altogether refer you to Tacitus. The
wars were carried on as far as the Weser, with a very
large military force: one cannot understand how such
masses should have been used against tribes which had
no fortified towns whatever, and therefore were utterly
unable to offer any resistance; nor yet that they should
have produced no effect. The Germans could not stand
their ground in the open field; and so they fled into
the woods and impassable parts of the country. It is
moreover strange that the Romans make here the same
mistake over and over again: they try to overawe the
enemy by striking a great blow in the interior, and thus
they hope to subdue them; then they build some military
roads with bridges over the marshes in Overyssel,
in Lower Münster, and on the Lippe. The only means
would have been slowly to advance; but this perhaps
did not seem to them worth the trouble, and they might
thus have only got the country as a waste. We (Germans)
may, however, thank Heaven that Tiberius from
jealousy called back Germanicus after his last brilliant
achievements. He seems not to have had much desire
to conquer Germany: shrinking from great undertakings,
he merely tried to maintain the frontiers. The tactics
of the Germans show that it is most absurd to look
upon them as having been few in number and uncivilized;
for they encountered the Romans in quite regular
battles, and carried on the war with much ability.
But Tiberius did all for peace, as he could not bear that
generals under him should distinguish themselves; he
even put up with humiliations: thus, for instance, he
shut his eyes to the slight which he had had to suffer
171in Armenia and Parthia, even the expulsion of the king
whom he had himself given to the Parthians. The historical
interest of his reign is therefore entirely confined
to what happened in his own family, and to affairs at
home.
Tiberius, at that time, had a son of his own, Drusus,
and an adopted son, Germanicus the child of his brother.
Drusus must have been a fine young man; but Germanicus
was the idolized hero of the Romans, a worthy son
of a worthy father,—the hero of the German wars,—a
great and noble soul. It may indeed have been a fanciful
freak in Drusus, to ask Augustus to restore the
republic which would not have been able to hold its
ground for one year; but that wish could only have
sprung from a lefty and generous mind. Germanicus
declined the offer of the legions, who, after the death of
Augustus, called upon him to take the government; he
remained faithful to his adoptive father, although he
certainly could not have loved him. Tiberius, on the
other hand, had no faith in virtue and purity of heart;
so he removed him from the scene of his triumphs, and
recalled him to Rome. But his ill humour was yet increased,
when Germanicus, on his return thither, met
with an enthusiastic reception from the people. As
Tiberius was conscious of the vices and the tyranny
which he kept hidden from the world, he hated a man
like Germanicus; he shrank from a contrast with his
single-minded nephew: yet it may just as well have
been fear for the interests of his son, as the pain of seeing
by his side one so good as Germanicus, while he himself
felt his own utter depravity. Germanicus now had,
like Agrippa before him, the commission of superintending
the res Orientis, the eastern frontiers and provinces;
but he died shortly afterwards. Whether he died from
poison or from natural causes, is a question with regard
to which the ancients themselves were in the dark; yet
I rather believe that his death was natural, as the accounts
point rather to witchcraft than to poison, and
172those who chose the former expedient—to which, owing
to the superstition then prevailing in Rome, people were
very much inclined—would not have been likely to try
the other. It is credible enough that Piso had attempted
his life; but what is quite unaccountable, is that he
could have fancied that conduct like this could be left
unpunished by such a prince as Tiberius was. He indeed
thought to curry favour with Tiberius by his insolence
to Germanicus; yet he could not but have seen,
that if ever the matter came to be talked of, Tiberius
would sacrifice him: for although the emperor might
in his heart have been rejoiced at the deed, he would,
notwithstanding, have been obliged, before the world, to
avenge it on the very man who had dared to act up to
his wishes. Even Tacitus, in his time, had great doubts
on this subject, the most contradictory rumours about
it were then afloat. Thus, the Dauphiné deemed her
husband, the Dauphin, the son of Louis XV., to have
been poisoned by the Duc de Choiseul, which nowadays
is less credited. The Dauphin, being religious, and even
somewhat bigoted, was very hateful to the Duke, who
was a very gay man and a freethinker, and who did not
wish the expulsion of the Jesuits to be thwarted by the
Dauphin, nor his own power to be shaken. There were
indeed some motives for the crime; but it does not follow
thence that it was really committed, and I certainly
doubt it. Piso’s poisoning Germanicus, might have been
winked at by Tiberius; but his insulting and publicly
reviling him, was an offence against the majestas which
he could not have overlooked when his adopted son was
in the case: and moreover that Piso, when Germanicus
was sent to succeed him, would not give up the province
of Syria, but drew together his troops and prepared
to march to Rome, is the most puzzling event in
Roman history. Piso and his wife Munatia Plancina,
a daughter of the orator Munatius Plancus, were condemned,
and the secret was buried with them. There
were some suspicion that Livia herself had suggested
173the plan of poisoning Germanicus: she was horrible
enough not to spare her grandson, and it may be that
she did not care at all about offending Tiberius.
Soon after the death of Germanicus, began the prosecutions
for crimen majestatis,—those never to be defined
charges against which no man could shield himself; for
it was a crime which, as early as the republic, had the
most different meanings, and indeed might have been
applied to anything: whoever had brought any calamity
upon the state, was wont to be thus prosecuted. In
the reign of Augustus, by a law which we do not know,
an offence against the imperator was made a crimen majestatis,
as formerly those against the republic had been.
All trials for this were conducted before the senate,
which in fact was only a condemning machine in the
hands of the tyrant; just as the National Convention
was under Robespierre. Many things were classed
under the head of crimen majestatis, which in reality
did not belong to it at all; as for instance, amours with
princesses. At first, that charge was met with very
seldom indeed under Tiberius; but gradually there grew
up a herd of informers who made it their business to
bring to judgment any one who had given offence to
the emperor. Tiberius himself acted a neutral part;
but the senate got more and more into the frightful
habit of condemning whenever it was at all agreeable
to the emperor.—On the whole, however, the state during
the first nine years of Tiberius was in a very happy
condition: there were very few condemnations indeed;
and in several of these cases the persons whom they
affected were hardly deserving of sympathy. Tiberius
lived in retirement, but with dignity and great outward
decorum, treating the first men of the nation with
much distinction. Augustus was not a close-fisted
manager; at the end of his reign he was even in financial
difficulties; but he regularly published the accounts
of the year before: this was not kept up by Tiberius,
who laid by huge hoards. The indirect taxes in Italy
174were raised, and some new ones brought in. This state
of things lasted as long as old Livia lived; and as yet
apprehensions were felt only by those who were sharp-sighted
enough to foresee the clouds which would gather
when she was once dead. Tiberius stood in fear and
dread of his mother to the very end of her days, and all
affection between them had now for a great while been no
more: she was a terrible woman; and yet her life was a
blessing for Rome,—at least for those who had forgotten
the old times. After her death, Tiberius had nothing to
restrain him: he dropped the virtues which he had formerly
displayed owing to his diligence while under the
authority of another to whom he had to give account;
he allowed his activity to flag, and became quite lost in
his hateful and gloomy disposition. The only enjoyment
he had in life, was in most infamous lusts; and a
man advanced in years, who gives himself up to shameful
pleasures, must irretrievably sink into the basest
state of worthlessness.
Napoleon is said to have once told a deputation of
the Institute that Tiberius had been very hardly dealt
with, and that Tacitus had been unjust to him. Napoleon
was far from being a learned man, his knowledge
was all picked up; but Roman military history he knew
very well. He must have said,—“if we form our opinion
of Tiberius only from Tacitus, and deem him to
have been an infamous, brutal voluptuary, and a tiger
of cruelty, then we have not a correct idea of him; for
Tiberius was in his youth, and even up, to his fiftieth
year, a great general and statesman. None of his vitia
subdola came to light before that time; and whilst he
kept the energetic and good qualities of his disposition
in full play, he behaved as if he were quite another
man.” This view is a perfectly true one. Tiberius’
only friend was Ælius Sejanus, the son of Seius Strabo,
a Vulsinian, equestri loco natus; him he made præfectus
prætorio. Sejanus’ character has a great likeness to
that of his master, and he ought not to be looked upon
175with contempt: he was an excellent officer, a man of
great strength of will, of courage and of much talent;
but without any sort of principle. To him alone Tiberius
unbosomed himself; and he knew how to make the
emperor feel quite comfortable, and to lead him to yield
himself up entirely to his own propensities: Tiberius’
mind was at rest while Sejanus gave him security
against those whom he was most afraid of, namely, his
own family, and the few grandees who still remained.
Sejanus increased the prætorian cohorts; and he suggested
to Tiberius the plan of concentrating them in
the Castrum Prætorianum (a citadel outside the wall of
Servius Tullius, but in what is now the very midst of
the city); just as the Italian tyrants were wont to do.
This is the most momentous event in the history of the
emperors. The prætorians now became the real sovereigns,
like the janissaries at Algiers; so that they are
the pivots on which the Roman history turns, down to
the times of Diocletian: by this means, Rome was converted
into a military republic, which was generally
dormant except when the occupant of the throne was
changed. Sejanus aimed at nothing less than supreme
power. Drusus was yet alive and had children; Germanicus
had left three sons; and a brother of his, who
afterwards became the Emperor Claudius, was likewise
still living: the whole of this family, Sejanus wished to
root out, and so he seduced the wife of Drusus, Livilla,
a daughter of the elder Drusus. With her help, he
poisoned Drusus; after which he also cruelly made away
with the sons of Germanicus, Caius alone excepted, who
was still a child, and whom he kept in reserve. He gave
Tiberius such confidence, that he withdrew from Rome
to Capreæ, there to wallow in his lusts; and in the
meanwhile he himself ruled in Rome. Prosecutions now
were rife, and here begin the frightful annals of the
reign of Tiberius: the lists of those who are condemned
to die, are made up of men, who were all of them
more or less eminent, although all were not precisely
176respectable; Tiberius therefore deserves to be called the
very pattern of a tyrant. Much must be laid to the
charge of Tiberius personally; but much also to that of
Sejanus, whose influence increased more and more. The
banishment of Agrippina is his work; the last tortures,
however, which were inflicted on her, were after his
death.
This went on, until at last Sejanus became suspected
by Tiberius, and very likely with good reason; for Sejanus
at best would have waited for his death, and then
at the head of the Prætorian cohorts have made himself
master of Rome. Tiberius himself had raised Sejanus
to be his equal; among the Prætorian cohorts, sacrifices
were already offered to the latter as well as to
the emperor. But it now happened that a still worse
being got near Tiberius: virtue and genius could not
have shaken down Sejanus; this was done by a yet more
wicked man than he, by one who had not his great
qualities, but analogous vices. Tiberius expressed his
dread of a conspiracy, and gave out that he wanted
to go to Rome: but he only came into the neighbourhood,
and sent orders to arrest Sejanus; which was
done with consummate cunning. There was a verbosa
et grandis epistola, in which one might remark that he
was aiming at something, with some cuts at Sejanus;
at the conclusion was the warrant for the arrest. Macro
who had been made Præfectus Vigilum, surrounded
the senate with his people. Sejanus was now seized in
the senate, and on this, men showed themselves in the
most hateful light: all those who but that very morning
had fawned for a gracious look of his, now started
up and raised an outcry against him as one guilty of
high treason, calling for his immediate execution, so
that the cohorts might not hear of it. He was instantly
strangled. Tiberius now slaked his thirst for blood
by persecuting the followers and friends of Sejanus.
Yet those who were not, were also persecuted; for things
did not grow better but worse: Macro now ruled just
177as tyrannically as Sejanus, and, like him, was master of
the detestable old man. He was, however, not a whit
more faithful to him. C. Cæsar, the son of Germanicus,
generally known by the name of Caligula, linked himself
to Macro by the most infamous tie; and assured
him that he should hold under him the very highest
power, just as he had under Tiberius, if he would but
rid him and his family of the old man. And there is
scarcely any doubt but that the death of Tiberius, who
in his seventy-eighth year lay sick not far from the
headland of Misenum, was hastened, either by poison
which the physicians gave him, or by strangulation. In
fact they thought him dead; and when he rallied, he is
said to have been strangled. This was in the twenty-third
year of his reign (37 after Christ).
CAIUS CÆSAR, OTHERWISE CALIGULA.
Germanicus and Agrippina had three sons and three
daughters: of the sons, two had been murdered in the
reign of Tiberius; the youngest only, Caius, survived.
Caius was not born on the banks of the Rhine; but, as
Suetonius satisfactorily proves, at Antium, and thence
he was sent out to his father’s camp: so that the
history of his childhood is indeed connected with this
neighbourhood. After the death of his father, he got
into the power of his adoptive grandfather Tiberius;
and this old man, who, after all had never lost his judgment,
very soon recognised in him the monster which
he really was; nor did he make any secret of it. Caius
could not hide from himself that his life was in danger,
and it may be that fear had very early made him mad;
but his madness was so malignant and wicked as to
leave no doubt of the utter baseness of his nature. He
saved his life by the greatest servility towards Tiberius
and those who were in power, which, as matters stood,
178was the most sensible thing that he could have done.
Afterwards he attached himself to Macro, and with his
aid he rid himself of Tiberius. He had been little seen
in public. He was a handsome young man, very like
his father, and he was in his twenty-sixth year: the
memory of his father, and his own good looks, got for
him a most favourable reception; so that no one was so
enthusiastically welcomed as he was. The nickname of
Caligula, like that of Caracalla, has passed into common
use; but neither of them is to be met with in ancient
writers instead of the real name: no contemporary called
the son of Septimius Severus, Caracalla. The name of
Caligula was only given him by the soldiers when a
child; his real name was Caius Cæsar, and the former
one is beneath the dignity of history. All who had seen
much of Caius at the court of Tiberius, perceived a deep
cunning in him, and foreboded the worst wickedness:
yet they were but very few. His first acts were, on the
contrary, such as to give the public at large great hopes
of him. The illusion, however, very soon vanished. Suetonius
is very explicit with regard to him: he is a writer
who has little of the antique about him, and he indulges
in anecdotes and details, being quite unable to
impart method and unity to his work; so that his biographies
are rambling performances, and contain numberless
repetitions. He is a man of shrewd judgment
but a bad writer; one sees in him an age in which the
classical in arrangement and style is waning fast.
Caligula was really a madman. The worst human
depravity would not account for all the things which he
has done: his true nature is expressed in the words
“abortion of dirt and fire,”[40]—a shocking combination
of obscenity and cruelty. Juvenal is reproached with
having chiefly undertaken in his writings to describe
depravity; yet indelicate as he was, his disgust was excited,
and he did not dwell on it with pleasure. Suetonius,
179on the other hand, was without doubt infected
with the profligacy of his time. Suetonius himself is
uncertain what to believe of Caligula’s insanity, whether
it was mere satanic malignity or the satanic malignity
of madness; but he mentions a circumstance which is
decisive, namely, that he scarcely ever slept, which is a
sure symptom. Sleep is given to us yet more to keep
up the powers of the intellect, and the elasticity of the
mind, than for the strengthening of the body. It is
now twenty years since Christian VII. of Denmark died,
a prince whose state was well governed for a long time,
so that his madness was little noticed, but who under
other circumstances would have shown himself a Caligula:
he also was afflicted with sleeplessness, and was
often seen for whole nights walking up and down in
his room. Some Asiatic princes also have been insane,
among the Mahommedans and Persians but especially
among the Tartars. In Caligula’s day, moreover, there
were no means, and, above all, no religious ones, for the
treatment of insanity.
There was at that time at Rome the most absolute
military despotism. For, owing to the Prætorians, it
was quite impossible to undertake anything against the
Cæsar: they were well paid and kept, and would have
cut down senate and people, if they had set themselves
against the emperor; so that the condition of the empire
was like that of a place which is taken by the most
ruthless barbarians. In the first years of his reign, the
emperor wasted in the most senseless way a treasure of
one hundred and thirty millions of dollars which Tiberius
had left; this hoard being exhausted he extorted
money by confiscations, and this also was squandered
again. During the reign of Tiberius, there had been
peace with the Germans for twenty years, ever since the
recall of Germanicus; Caligula, however, wishing for
once to enjoy the pleasure of a campaign, marched to
the German frontier, and there he waged war like a madman.
Yet this was the least evil which Rome suffered.
180He also undertook some gigantic structures: near Puzzuoli,
a dyke may still be traced, which he quite uselessly
and absurdly built across the harbour, to throw
a bridge across it. He caused himself to be worshipped
as a god.
Whilst now the empire was goaded into despair for
nearly four years, the Prætorian officers, some of whom
had every day to appear before him, when he would
mock and ill treat them, formed a conspiracy, and he
was slain to the great joy of the senate and people.
The mad idea was now taken up of restoring the republic,
and especially by the consuls whom Caligula
had appointed. They called the senate together; shame
and disgrace were denounced against Caligula; and
during the first hours people talked with great spirit
and enthusiasm. But they were soon at a loss how to
arrange matters; and still more so when it was known
that the Prætorians would not hear of any other ruler
than a monarch. Claudius, who in a tumult had hid
himself, was drawn from his hiding-place by the Prætorians,
and dragged into the camp; and there, after having
passed the night in fear of death, he was proclaimed
emperor. The cohortes urbanæ declared for the republic;
but they were not able to stand against the power
of the Prætorians, By the following morning already,
people were glad that Claudius was emperor.
TIBERIUS CLAUDIUS DRUSUS CÆSAR.
The emperor Claudius, uncle of Caligula and brother
of Germanicus, had never been adopted by Tiberius;
whereas all the other emperors were, by a fiction, the
sons of their predecessors. He had preserved his life in
the reign of Caligula only as it were by a miracle; and
he was then fifty years of age. Whilst of Caligula we
can but speak as of a monster, Claudius deserves our
181deepest pity; yet he has done very bad things which
betoken a turn for evil, though this indeed was only
developed by his misfortunes. Even his mother Antonia,
a daughter of the triumvir Antonius, called him a
portentum hominis; he was an ἀτελέστον; he had capacities
and talents; yet he was deficient in what really
constitutes human reason, whence, in a psychological
point of view, he was a real curiosity. Although he had
a desire of knowledge, application, memory, and a taste
for science and literature, he was wanting in judgment
and discretion, so that he often said and did things
which were downright stupid: it is as if a thick rind
had grown round his better nature, which he but seldom
broke through; there are a great many absurdities
of his on record. Suetonius is very instructive with regard
to him, very aptly describing his character by the
Greek words ἀβλεψία and μετεωρία. The Greeks always
have most adequate expressions to draw characters;
those phrases mean a thoughtless absence of mind and
a want of reflection, when one says what is most preposterous,
and one leaves untold what ought to have
been told: there was a complete disproportion between
his thoughts and his power of uttering them, and this
it is, what those Greek words admirably express. By
the whole of his family he was knocked about, being the
brother of those distinguished persons who possessed
the whole love of the family. Old Augustus, who
always felt such circumstances keenly, wished to keep
him altogether aloof from the public gaze, whilst his
grandmother Livia treated him with peculiar harshness
and imperiousness. The unfortunate youth took
this to heart. Had he been brought up with kindness,
he would have become a good, plodding, and somewhat
weak-headed man: as it was, he became vicious, and
the feeling that he was despised made him a coward;
so that he always kept in the background, and whenever
he at all wished to put himself forward, it was but
to meet with a failure. Thus he found his only comfort
182in literature. Livy, whose kind heart may even be seen
from his work, had great pity on him, and, trying to
find him some occupation, encouraged him to write
history. Now, as he knew a great many things, he
deemed himself to be called upon to write the history
of the civil wars; and he told it in such an honest
manner, that his family got very angry with him. Afterwards,
he wrote memoirs of Augustus, which they allowed
to pass muster, but so as only to despise their
author. He was indeed thoroughly honest; yet he always
got little thanks for it. Augustus would not give
him any employment, on account of his dreadful stupidity;
Tiberius, although he did not care much for him,
gave him even the consulship. He was married more
than once. The profligacy of the female sex at that
time went beyond all bounds: Augustus had striven in
vain to repress it; Tiberius promulgated some legal decisions
against it, yet without any result. Claudius
therefore was highly unfortunate in this respect also;
he attached himself very affectionately to the women
who betrayed and disgraced him.
Thus Claudius, generally despised, had reached his fiftieth
year when Caligula was murdered. His behaviour
as emperor at first was reasonable and good; he made
no one smart for the childish attempt to restore the republic,
there was a general abolitio dictorum factorumque.
A few only of the murderers of Caius he had executed,
although they had deserved very well of the Roman
world. He also was the first who, on entering upon
his power, gave a donativum to the soldiers. Caius
already had undertaken the government, without repeating
that farce which Tiberius still played; Claudius
also forbore to do so. His reign, which lasted fourteen
years, was at first truly a relief after that of Caius;
people felt comforted, and cherished hopes, whilst he
on his side made many good regulations. Yet he was
altogether without any will of his own; had he had an
honest friend whom he could have entirely relied on,
183his rule might have been good and praiseworthy. But
he did not go beyond the walls of his palace; he only
sought to amuse his ladies, and lived almost exclusively
with slaves and freedmen, as he was generally despised
by men of rank. He was in fact of a kind and loving
temper; but he was shy and timid. Slaves now stood
forth as his advisers and friends; just as Don Miguel’s
most intimate confidant is his barber. Very likely, Polybus,
or Polybius, before whom Seneca humbled himself,
was far from being altogether contemptible;—the Greek
slaves received a very good education in the Roman
houses; if they had good abilities, they were very accomplished.
Pallas and Narcissus, on the other hand,
were men of a different stamp; thoroughly bad, and of
insatiable rapacity, they plundered the empire. By the
influence of these men, and owing to his unhappy marriage
with Agrippina, his own brother’s daughter, who
was very beautiful, but who had not a trace of the virtues
of her parents, he was ruled with absolute sway.
She, being without virtue and shame, by her intrigues
succeeded in getting him to adopt Nero, her son by her
first marriage, although Claudius had a son of his own,
Britannicus. Hence it was that his reign became so
disgraceful and disastrous; a large number of innocent
men were also put to death under his rule, though not
so many as under other emperors. Whenever Narcissus
demanded a victim, Claudius was his tool; so that
his life was one continual degradation.
There were, however, considerable works executed in
his reign. The finest and most magnificent aqueduct
which has been carried on to Rome, the Aqua Claudia,
was built by him; and there is no doubt but that in the
restoration of the city in the fifteenth century, it might
have been completely repaired. Other relics also of his
buildings are in the very grandest style; the two great
arches, known under the name of the Porta Maggiore
are undoubtedly his. He likewise accomplished the
draining of the Lake Fucinus into the Liris, which Augustus
184had given up in despair: the fallen in vaults may
still be seen. At first, some mistakes were made in the
levelling, and an attempt to let off the water miscarried;
but the fault was soon remedied.
He undertook a warlike expedition against Britain, a
country which no one had thought anything about
since the time of Julius Cæsar; and he extended the
boundary of the Roman empire thus far. He himself
led the army over, and established a province which
comprised the greater part of south-eastern England,
and in which colonies and municipia were soon founded:
from thence the subjection of Caledonia was afterwards
effected. He died, being undoubtedly poisoned
by his wife Agrippina; for she wanted to secure the
succession for her son Nero, as she knew that Claudius
was sorry that he had adopted him, and wished to reinstate
Britannicus in his rights. He had always been
unhappy,—fortune indeed had been too hard upon him,—and
he died despised and laughed at; an instance of
which we have in the Ludus de morte Claudii Cæsaris
(incorrectly called ἀποκολοκύνθωσις) written by Seneca.
LITERATURE AFTER THE DEATH OF AUGUSTUS. MORAL CONDITION OF ROME AND THE PROVINCES.
Already in the time of Augustus, a dearth in literature
begins which is a striking contrast to the great number
of poets in the days of the dictator Cæsar: not one poet
can be named who was young in the latter years of
Augustus. I could not undertake to explain this; yet
it is a phenomenon which has very often been repeated
in modern times. But prose was likewise barren. Even
in the best days of Roman literature, the influence of
the Greek Rhetoricians had become very considerable,
and the writers after Cicero, Cæsar, and Sallust, are not
altogether free from the effects of these school exercises:
185many passages may be shown in Livy, which he would not
have written had he not passed through the declamation
school. But in the later times this influence became
still more powerful, and of this period we may get
the best idea from the Suasoria and the Controversies
of the elder Seneca: those symptoms then broke out,
which are described in Tacitus’ excellent dialogue de
Oratoribus. From this school, of which it was the sole
task, without regard to the contents of a work, without
any subject-matter to awaken thought, to make an effect
merely by unexpected turns, a swell of words, far-fetched
thoughts, and a jingle of periods, arose the era of
Seneca; for it must in justice be ascribed to him. The
elder Seneca still belongs to a different age, and he remembers
very well the earlier and better taste. From
what he writes to his sons, it may be seen to how low
an ebb taste had then fallen: he rails at them for their
fondness for the new manner, but has himself already
acquired a sort of relish for it: he wrote his Controversies
when an old man upwards of eighty. The philosopher
Seneca is the most remarkable character of that
time, and one of the few eminent persons living in it:
not to be unjust to him, one must know the whole range
of that literature to which he belonged, and then one
sees how well he understood how to make something
even of what was most absurd. To the self-same school
of literature belongs the elder Pliny, although his is
quite a different mind: this is what is called the argentea
ætas. This sort of division is very silly; one should
divide Roman literature quite differently: it is a senseless
thing to put Tacitus, Seneca, and Pliny side by side;
they do not bear the smallest resemblance to each other.
This literary period began as early as the reign of Augustus,
and it lasted down to that of Domitian, when
absurdity reached its height; only we have lost its coryphæi,
such as Aufidius, and others. Tacitus does not
by any means belong to this rabble, as the earlier school
continues along with a modern one.
186Seneca is a man of real genius, which after all is the
main thing: his influence upon literature has been a
most beneficial one; and this I say the more readily, as
I dislike him so much. The opinion Dio Cassius gives
of him, has a great deal in it which is true and correct;
but it is exaggerated, and much too bitter. His affected
and sentimental style, strikingly reminds one of a
French school, of which Rousseau and Buffon were the
founders, and which owing to its faults would be quite
unbearable, had it not originated from men of such
transcendent talent. Seneca, however, is not to be compared
with either of them for loftiness of intellect.
Diderot’s Essai sur le règne de Claude et de Néron, is a
very remarkable book, and the contrast between him
and Dio Cassius is highly interesting: his too was a
very ingenious mind, and his manner was like that of
Seneca, as he also was but the creature of his age. In
the time of Nero, lived Lucan, whose poetry is of the
school of Seneca, a striking proof how much more intolerable
this mannerism is in poetry than in prose.
Bernardin de St. Pierre and Chateaubriand are of the
same school: it would be still more bearable, did it not
always fall into moralizing sentimentality, which is the
case with the former, whilst Chateaubriand is neither
more nor less than a bad Lucan. The latter kept his
ground until late in the middle ages, and was immensely
read, almost as much as Virgil: people were divided
into the Virgilian and Lucanian school. The true restorator
of good taste in Rome was Quintilian, who is
by no means to be reckoned as one of the argentea ætas.
With that insupportable mannerism Nero also was
tainted; whose talent no one can deny, but who, wherever
he was not a fiend, showed himself strange and
wrong-headed. In prose the same tone pervaded history
also: Fabius Rusticus, who was so much read, has
undoubtedly written likewise in the Annæan manner.
The empire was, on the whole, in a prosperous condition.
Certain it is that during the eighty years after
187the battle of Actium, in a time of profound peace, and
of great vitality, which only required that there should
not be any devastations and destructions,—men felt
very comfortable and happy, and recovered their
strength. Caligula’s exactions, it is true, were very
hard to bear; yet they did not so very much check this
development: the population after the wars was certainly
more than doubled, the towns became filled with
inhabitants, and the wastes were peopled. Unhappy
Greece alone remained a wilderness, even to the reign
of Trajan. Such countries as had fallen into the hands of
the farmers-general,—who, using them as pastures, would
not rebuild the towns, nor allow of any tillage,—lay
waste; yet they were gardens indeed in comparison with
what they were at the time of the battle of Actium. It
was just the same in Italy; there the fields were cultivated
by bondmen, and the population was indeed restored
by slaves who were imported, though it increased in quite
a different ratio from what it did in the provinces,
where it was recruited by ingenui. It is not mere declamation
in Lucan, when he says with regard to the
state of Italy,
Rarus et antiquis habitator in urbibus errat.
Marriage, although it was so easy to dissolve, was distasteful
to most persons, so that they lived in concubinage;
the many freedmen whose names are found on the inscriptions
of that period, are the children whom the
masters had by their female slaves. This gave rise to
those celebrated laws, the Lex Julia and the Lex Papia
Poppæa. The degeneracy and profligacy of the freeborn
female citizens was so awful, that many a man who
was no profligate, may have found a much more faithful
and estimable partner in a slave than in a Roman
lady of high birth; and thus it was looked upon as a
point of conscience not to marry. Hence there were
now many more born slaves and libertini than there
were freeborn citizens; besides which, in the great
188houses, innumerable hosts of bought slaves were kept.
In the provinces, where the parsimonia provincialis was
still reigning, there was no such disproportion: these
had a population of ingenui; in some it was also restored
and recruited by the military colonies;—such a
soldier, though he may formerly have been a brigand,
might after all have turned out quite a respectable
man, after having once got a home of his own. These
men made the use of the Latin language more general.
Nor could this be helped: for what was spoken in those
countries was but a jargon, from which the people
did their best to wean themselves; and they were none
the worse for it. The main object of the provincials
could not have been, and indeed was not, anything else
but to become Romans. In the midst, therefore, of the
most detestable tyranny, the vital energies of the countries
bordering upon the Mediterranean revived. The
tyranny of the governors was, however, far less than
what it had been in the times of the republic; at least,
it was so under Tiberius, in whose reign a fraudulent
proconsul would certainly not have been acquitted.
NERO.
After the death of Claudius, Nero, then a youth of
seventeen years, mounted the throne without any opposition:
whether Claudius had still made a disposition
in favour of Britannicus, can no longer be made out.
Nero was endowed by nature with bountiful gifts; he
had a talent for music and the fine arts, and also for
mechanics: there is no reason to doubt that in music
he was a virtuoso. He was a pupil of Seneca. At first,
he gave birth to the fairest hopes; yet even thus early,
it was difficult for farsighted people to believe in them,
who felt sure that a viper’s brood must be vipers. His
mother Agrippina was the unworthy daughter of the
189worthy Germanicus, and the worthy sister of Caligula;
his father, Cn. Domitius Ahenobarbus, was quite her
match, and he said himself, that from him and Agrippina
a monster only could have been born. The whole
of the Roman world shared in this foreboding; and
therefore people were so much the more astonished at
Nero’s behaving at first like the disciple of Seneca and
Burrhus. The latter was a fine honest man of the old
school, and a good officer, who was appointed by Nero as
præfectus prætorio; Seneca was a refined man of the world,
who busied himself a great deal about virtue, and may
also have looked upon himself as an old Stoic, believing
for certain that there was not a more clever and virtuous
man living than himself: yet this did not prevent
his giving himself every moment a dispensation from
his virtue. The influence of these two men during the
first years of this reign was decided; but the beautiful
dream of Nero’s amiability was very short, as both of
these tutors were very soon set aside. The first impulse
was given by the profligacy to which Nero had yielded
himself up from his earliest youth; and then by his mother,
who left no means untried to keep her son in a
state of dependence. She was opposed by Burrhus and
Seneca: the former withstood her out of love for his
country; the latter perhaps from the same motives, but
just as much from personal grounds, Agrippina being
his enemy. When this change took place, cannot be
exactly ascertained. The progress of it—the personal
connexions in which Nero lived; the influence of Poppæa
Sabina, a woman of high rank and wonderful
beauty, but tainted with the profligacy of her age, in whose
nets he was irretrievably entangled; the still more baneful
influence of his mother—is described by Tacitus: I
will not speak of Nero’s degeneracy and unbounded depravity;
all of it is too well known,—his name alone is
enough. He resolved to murder his own mother, against
whom he bore a grudge; and after an unsuccessful attempt,
he carried out his purpose, owing, as Dio represents
190it, to Seneca’s instigation. That the speech which
he caused to be read on that subject in the senate, was
composed by Seneca, is an undoubted fact.
Though Nero now raged without restraint, and every
day steeped his hands more and more in bloodshed, Tacitus
does not look upon it as certain, that he had the
city set on fire: on the contrary, he takes it for an idle
rumour. It looks like Nero’s madness, that during the
fire he got up upon the tower of Mæcenas, and in the
attire of a tragedian sang the Ἰλίου ἅλωσις to the lyre:
at all events, it may have been a welcome thing to him
to be now able to build Rome anew. This fire, which
lasted six whole days, is of very great importance in history:
an immense number of monuments of every kind,
historical records, works of art, and libraries, utterly
perished; the larger half of Rome was destroyed, or at
least very much damaged; the streets were all laid out
in straight lines, and made broader, and they were built
up in a new style, which gave the city quite a different
appearance. The great fire at Constantinople, under
Leo Macellas[41] in the fifth century of our era, has likewise
had a most ruinous effect on Greek literature.
After this fire, Nero gave loose to his boundless prodigality
and love of building; and for this purpose he
extorted money from the whole of the Roman world.
He built, what is called his “Golden Palace,” which extended
from the Palatine, where afterwards the temple
of Venus and Roma[42] was erected by Hadrian, to the
baths of Titus, which, to speak more correctly, are those
of Trajan: Vespasian had it destroyed for the sake of
the remembrances connected with it. Some parts of the
walls may still be found in the substructions of the
baths of Titus: it was a most beautiful pile of masonry,
with a coating of the finest marble: we are to imagine
191it to have been like a fairy palace in an eastern
dream.
After this, Nero also had Seneca executed, whose
manly end somewhat redeems the weakness of his life.
Bareas Soranus and Thrasea Pætus were likewise made
to die: the latter was preceded by his wife Arria, who
gave him the example of a courageous death.
In Nero’s days, the Roman empire had not such rest
as under Claudius. During the reign of the latter, the
Romans had carried on wars in Britain, where they had
established themselves, and had reduced a large part of
the country into the form of a Roman province. From
the despair of the Britons, we may see that the condition
of a province, while it was yet new, and especially
in a poor country, was one of great hardship; for it
was only by great extortion that anything worth naming
could be wrung from it. Hence arose the insurrection
of the Britons under the great queen Boudicea as
Tacitus calls her; according to Dio Cassius, Bunduica.
This war at first was disastrous, and, to say the least,
very serious indeed: the Romans were utterly beaten;
their fortresses were demolished, two of their towns were
taken, and many of them were slain. Suetonius Paullinus
at last with great difficulty crushed the rebellion;
Boudicea killed herself, and the Britons again bowed beneath
the Roman yoke. Thus that outbreak paved the
way for the complete conquest of Britain; and the Romans
were now already masters of England, with the
exception of Yorkshire and Lancashire, and the northern
provinces: Anglesea also was Roman.
Another war was waged by Corbulo against the Parthians
in Armenia, where a younger dynasty of the Arsacidæ
was seated on the throne. This war Corbulo
carried on with unfaltering success, conquering Artaxata
and Tigranocerta, and obliging Vologæsus to sue
for peace. The last scion of this race of kings, Tiridates,
was forced to receive Armenia as a fief from
Nero; for which purpose he had to come to Rome, where
192he met with a splendid reception. His appearance in
Rome is one of those events of which the memory has
survived in the traditions of the middle ages: he is
mentioned, for instance, in the Mirabilia Romæ; and
there is a legend—which, of course, is quite unfounded—that
he brought the statues of Castor and Pollux, the
work of Phidias and Praxiteles, as a present to Rome.
The thanks which Corbulo earned for his victories, was
death. He was undoubtedly one of the best Romans of
that age; he was a man free from every craving of ambition,
true and conscientious. His bust was found
about forty years ago; its features are noble.
Nero now passed from one mad freak to another. I
am inclined to believe, that he was not morally accountable
for all of this, as insanity seems to have been hereditary
in his family: Caligula was his uncle. Many
things that he did were merely contemptible; as for
instance, his going like a stroller through the Greek
towns, where he tried to win the prizes, either as a
musician, singer, or poet, in the public contests, or else
in the horse-races, putting himself on a level with the
other competitors. This would have been the most innocent
of his pranks, were it not that he also robbed
Greece of its works of art. The præfectus prætorio, Tigellinus,
who had been appointed in the room of Burrhus,
was at that time the most infamous of all those
men who had any energy: the world was rid of him by
the rising of Galba and Vindex.
In the thirteenth year of Nero’s reign, the first real
attempt was made to overthrow his rule: a former conspiracy
of Calpurnius Piso, in which Seneca also had
perished, was a mere court plot in which no troops had
any share. Nero had undertaken his journey through
Greece to gratify his vanity: and whilst he everywhere
caused himself to be crowned there as a conqueror, a
rebellion broke out in Gaul under Julius Vindex, an
Aquitanian of rank. The Gauls who had received the
Roman franchise, bore all of them at that time the prænomen193of Julius, either after Julius Cæsar or Augustus;
just as in Asia all had the name of Tiberius Claudius
(thus, without a doubt Tib. Claudius Galenus). This has
given rise to confusion in the system of Roman names:
Julius Agricola, although a native of the Roman colony
Forum Julii, may likewise have sprung from Gallic ancestors,
which Tacitus, of course, says nothing about. Julius
Vindex had the rank of a Roman senator; and by his
wealth and his influence he set an insurrection on foot,
which had quite a different character from a former rising
in the reign of Tiberius: his object was simply as a
Roman to shake off the yoke of Nero, not to sever Gaul
itself from Rome. He met with very great sympathy,
and had already spread his rule from Aquitaine as far as
Besançon. The history of that time is in a very wretched
state, as Tacitus is wanting, and nothing is left of
Dio but the abridgment of Xiphilinus. Near Besançon,
Vindex met T. Virginius Rufus, the commander of the
German troops, a distinguished man, one of the few disinterested
and true patriots which Rome still had. The
latter was afraid that such a rising in Gaul, although it
had the deliverance of Rome for its object, might cause
the dismemberment of the empire; so they made a truce,
and agreed to acknowledge the authority of the senate.
The German troops wished to have Rufus for emperor;
but he refused: Vindex, on the other hand, was slain in
a tumult which had broken out between the two armies.
In the meanwhile, Servius Sulpicius Galba was proclaimed
emperor in Spain: in that country there was
only one legion, though there were many veterans out
of whom a militia might be formed. Galba sprang
from one of the most distinguished Roman houses. The
prænomen Servius was quite an heir-loom among the
Sulpicii, as Appius was among the Claudii: yet it had
altogether vanished as a prænomen, and had almost become
a nomen, so that sometimes another prænomen is
put before it; which indeed is incorrect, but may be accounted
194for. Of Galba’s character we do not know
much; had we but Suetonius, we should be at a loss
how to form any notion of him, as Suetonius himself
has no insight into character, being nothing but a pleasing
and lively teller of anecdotes; some light is, however,
thrown on Galba by the beginning of the Historiæ
of Tacitus. Galba had the respect of the army; he had
been, when in his best days, a good general, and for those
times at least, a blameless governor: but now he was in
his seventy-first year, and had fallen under the influence
of unworthy people, especially of freedmen. This sort
of petty courts, composed of freedmen, had a great deal
to do with the demoralized state of the Roman world. On
the whole, there was in the Roman empire a bitter hatred
against Nero, except among bloodthirsty men, of whom
there were not a few: these rather liked him. Galba
began his march, and soon formed new legions from the
Romans and Italians who came to hand. According to
the obscure accounts which we have, it appears that he
now availed himself of the pretence that the Gauls were
rebels against the majesty of the Roman senate, although
under Vindex they had risen against the tyrant only;
and he allowed his troops to plunder the southern Gallic
towns. Virginius Rufus declared for him, and they
both of them now crossed the Alps by different roads.
Not a sword was drawn in behalf of Nero, although the
prætorians were devoted to him: the passes of the Alps
opened without a blow being struck, and the rebel armies
drew nigh to the capital; on which Nero found himself
abandoned by every one. The senate quickly passed
from its former cringing servility into defiance and contempt;
Nero fled from his palace, and took refuge in
the farm-yard of one of the retainers of his household,
where he hid himself, and, with the greatest reluctance,
and with uncertain hand, inflicted on himself a deadly
wound. Against him and his memory, every possible
condemnation was denounced; yet his dead body was
buried after all.
SERVIUS SULPICIUS GALBA. M. SALVIUS OTHO. A. VITELLIUS.
195
Galba entered Rome. Had he shown himself open-handed,
he might easily have won men’s hearts; but he
gave offence on every side. He partly protected Nero’s
companions from public animadversion, and partly punished
them. Then he behaved like a miser. Economy
was certainly necessary; but he overdid it, as he gave
no donation whatever to the prætorians, and a very niggardly
one to the troops which he had brought with
him. He moreover displayed hatred and mistrust towards
the prætorians, although he had dismissed his
own soldiers, except a few whom he billeted in the city.
The prætorians, being ten thousand strong, were masters
of his life; so that he ought to have driven them
out, and decimated them as accomplices in the cruelties
of Nero. The most powerful person in the city, to the
disgrace of the age, was M. Salvius Otho; a man without
any illustrious ancestry, whose station was entirely
owing to Nero’s favour; a coxcomb of the then world in
the most disgusting sense, and this implied much more
depravity in ancient times than in our days; the associate
of many of the profligacies of Nero:—cruelty,
however, cannot be laid to his charge with certainty.
He was rich, pleasing, what is called amiable; and he
had that affable manner, which could not but have the
greatest influence upon the minds of the prætorians.
These therefore saw in him the man who could make
up to them for Nero, whom they began to miss more
and more. Galba, who already knew that the German
troops on the Upper Rhine under Cæcina and Fabius
Valens had become mutinous, and would not acknowledge
him, tried to strengthen himself by adopting Calpurnius
Piso, a distinguished young Roman. But that
choice was an unfortunate one, as Piso had nothing to
196recommend him, but his high descent and his spotless
character. Had not Galba been weakened by old age,
his government might have become quite praiseworthy;
but he lost the affection of all good men, not only by his
avarice, but also because justice was shamefully abused
and sold under his name by his favourites Vinius, Laco,
and Icelus. Otho had reckoned on being himself adopted;
whatever choice therefore Galba might have made, it
would have been his ruin, if it were not Otho: yet the
old soldier had after all too much love for his country
to choose him. By dint of deep dissimulation, Otho got
the prætorians to declare themselves at the moment
when he wanted to call upon them. This was done.
The city being at that time quite open, the prætorians
marched in, and went straight to the forum. Galba,
who had appeared in person with Piso to restore tranquillity,
was stabbed before the German troops could
have been moved into the town; and Otho was proclaimed
emperor.
The senate was still respectable enough to abhor this
election; but yet nothing better was to be looked for
from Vitellius, whom the troops on the German frontier
had proclaimed: he was by far the more vulgar and
worthless of the two. His beastly gluttony alone distinguished
him; and it is quite inconceivable, how Galba
could have given him the chief command of the troops
in Germany. He had a sort of popularity from his father,
who had been thrice consul and likewise censor:
the latter must have been a goodnatured man; for
though he disgraced himself by the most abject flattery
to Claudius, he was an enemy to no one, and therefore
enjoyed the favour of the people. This favour passed
on to the son, who, however, spent the whole of his life
in brutal sensuality and vulgarity. He was at that
time already fifty-seven years old, nor could he be said
to have made a better use of his youth: it is very likely
that Cæcina and Valens merely wished to put him forward
for the moment, as, they might afterwards get him
197out of the way, and decide which of them should succeed
to the throne. Vitellius was profusely liberal to
the soldiers: he flattered them by granting them everything,
while old Galba wanted to allow them nothing but
what was absolutely necessary. He marched forth against
Italy; the quickness with which he approached shows
the readiness with which the Roman soldiers could move,
and also the excellence of the high roads. Otho raised
an army; Vitellius met with resistance on the frontiers
from the legions in Mœsia and Pannonia, who thought
it presumptuous in the German troops to try and force
an emperor upon them. On these therefore Otho could
rely, and likewise on the armies in the East, where at
that time there had been as yet no rising. Italy was
then the most defenceless part of the whole empire,
there being hardly any troops there but the prætorians:
with these Otho took the field. Cæcina and Valens had
already passed the Alps, before Otho with his hastily
collected force had reached the Po. The first battle
was in favour of his cause. Otho ought now to have
protracted the war, as he had much greater resources
and far more money, and he could also reckon on getting
reinforcements; but to his misfortune, he resolved
upon giving battle near Bedriacum, in the neighbourhood
of Cremona, and there he was worsted. All was
not, however, lost; yet Otho made up his mind to put
an end to his life, telling those who survived him, to
make their peace with the conqueror as they best could.
People generally look upon this as the act of a noble-minded
man, who does not wish blood to be shed for his
honour; which is the view which Tacitus also seems to
take: I cannot see anything in it but the act of a most
effeminate soul, for which the effort of a long struggle,
the suspense between fear and hope, is the hardest lot
to bear. Such characters are not unseldom met with:
as, for instance, persons who are very fond of money,
will often rather forego a great deal, than bring upon
themselves the worry of a troublesome lawsuit. Juvenal
198looks upon Otho’s deed with just as little respect.
Nor has Tacitus in his heart thought higher of Otho
than he really deserves; for we must indeed consider
that when a great writer describes a truly tragical act,
it may easily happen that he does it with an emotion
which is widely different from his moral judgment.
Otho died in his thirty-seventh year, on the ninety-fifth
day after his proclamation. Galba had reigned seven
or eight months.
Vitellius took possession of Rome, and of the palace
of the Cæsars; and giving himself the appearance of an
avenger of Galba, although he had himself rebelled
against him, he caused upwards of a hundred prætorians
to be put to death. Yet, leaving aside his contemptible
character, things did not at first go on as
badly as had been expected. Soon, however, (A. D. 70.)
his tranquillity was disturbed by the news of the rising
of the Mœsian legions: these were to have come to the
aid of Otho, and had wished to do so; and they were
now commanded by a most ambitious tribune, Antonius
Primus. At the same time, he was informed that
the Syrian and the Parthian legions, the former under
T. Flavius Vespasianus, the latter under Licinius Mucianus,
refused to acknowledge him. Yet both of these
last-named insurrections were far off; both armies also
had enough to do, the one with the Parthians, the other
with the Jews, and they could not leave the country
where they were without leaving the frontiers open to
the inroads of the enemy. It is also quite inconceivable
to me, how the legions could have been withdrawn from
the Rhine to Italy, without the barbarians attacking
the frontiers. There are some traces of treaties having
been concluded; but that treaties should have been
made at all, is the very thing which we cannot understand:
it would seem that since the times of Caligula a
peaceful intercourse had sprung up, and that the Germans
had lost every longing for an offensive war. The
tract of country between the Upper Rhine and the Upper
199Danube, may even then have been Roman, although the
ditch with the rampart and palisades (limes) was not
dug till a later period.
T. Flavius Vespasianus, who, with all his faults must
be looked upon as the instaurator rei publicæ, was at
that time engaged in the Jewish war. There is a dark
stain upon him, which cannot be washed away; but otherwise
his faults are very pardonable. The rebellion of the
Jews had, even as early as the reign of Claudius, been
stirred up by ill usage and usurpation. There are few
struggles which so deserve the attention of posterity as
this: I should like, on account of its awful greatness, to
tell it at full length; but time forbids, and also what is
most momentous in it belongs rather to Jewish than to
Roman history. I refer you to Josephus, whose book, in
spite of its many defects of language, is one of the most
interesting historical works that have been left to us of
antiquity. I also class it with Cæsar’s Commentaries
among the most instructive, owing to the light which it
throws on the tactics of the Romans, and their method
of besieging places. Josephus was a Pharisee, and this
he cannot throw off;—not such a bad one indeed as
those of the gospel; but still the leaven of the Pharisees
is in him;—besides which, he has an unbearable national
vanity, to gratify which he distorts many a fact
in the earlier history; this we can scarcely term anything
else than falsifying. His numbers bespeak eastern
magniloquence; they are evidently impossible. Everywhere
he shows himself an Asiatic, notwithstanding
all his Greek learning: for with the exception of some
ever recurring mistakes, he writes very good Greek. He
is generally spoken of as Flavius Josephus; and no
doubt he was called Titus Flavius Josephus after the
emperor who gave him his liberty and the Roman citizenship.
Vespasian was then with a strong army in Judæa,
where the Jews were making a desperate and heroic
resistance. He was of low origin: his grandfather was
200the first of his race who had somewhat risen from obscurity,
and not being vain, he had no illustrious pedigree
forged for him. He himself, being then in his sixtieth
year, had passed through the evil times of Caligula,
Claudius, and Nero, during which he had to put
up with many a hardship: he had shared in the slavery
of the world, and occasionally had to play the part of
an involuntary slave. As a distinguished officer, he had
risen step by step without a stain of cruelty or injustice
upon him; which is so much the more to his honour, as
he was so very fond of money. The cradle of his race
was Nursia in the high Sabine mountains, whence also
Sertorius came; there the old Italian stock had been
preserved purest: to both of these applies Fronto’s expression
Nursina durities. In the Roman army, he was
generally known and respected.
Mucianus in Syria belonged to one of the highest
Roman families, the Licinii, and he was also descended
from the Mucii: yet he knew that high birth had lost
its influence; besides which, he was effeminate, and had
tact enough to feel that he was inferior to Vespasian:
they were very different men. After having formerly
been on bad terms, Mucianus now held out his hand to
the stern, harsh Vespasian. Mucianus, without being
bad, had caught the vices of his set; he had little ambition,
and deemed it wiser to be under an emperor of
his own choice. Vespasian, on the other hand, was free
from the faults of the great world, having rather the
virtues which are peculiar to the lower classes: he had
acknowledged Galba; but after his death he began to
think of taking the throne for himself, being conscious
that he was fit for it. Yet there was no need for him
to decide in the matter himself, as Antonius Primus,
with the Mœsian legions, encountered and defeated the
army of the generals of Vitellius near Cremona. In
Rome, the insurrection had likewise already broken
out. Here Vespasian’s brother, T. Flavius Sabinus,
was præfect; and his younger son, Domitian, was kept
201as a sort of hostage. Against these Vitellius was at first
irritated; then he was frightened, and wished to capitulate;
after the battle of Cremona especially, he was
quite mild: but when afterwards different symptoms
showed themselves, he again veered round and wanted
to arrest them. They fled to the Capitol, which, however,
was taken, and for the second time since Sylla,
burned to ashes: Domitian had a very narrow escape.
At Rome, the anarchy was complete. When in those
days a man wanted to descend from his throne, he was
not able to save his life; for there were no convents then,
as in the Byzantine period. Vespasian’s party had been
gradually forming; and it gained strength owing to the
successes of the victorious army, which straightway
marched to Rome, where the maddest excesses were now
committed on both sides. The conquerors took possession
of the city without meeting with any resistance,
and Vitellius was murdered.
T. FLAVIUS VESPASIANUS. TITUS. DOMITIANUS.
Under these circumstances, Domitian, a very young
man hardly twenty, seized upon the government in the
absence of his father: his elder brother Titus remained
in Judæa, and it was a long time before Vespasian came
to Rome. Many ruthless deeds were done in the meanwhile,
rather from personal vengeance than party motives.
Although Vespasian himself had many good qualities
indeed, his party was no better than the opposite
one; just as it was in the latter part of the thirty years’
war, when the Swedish, French, and Imperial armies
were equally lawless and destructive. The dismal history
of these little men is wonderfully told by a great
one, who, however, makes none of them his hero.
Vespasian came to Rome very late, which had led to
not a few bad consequences: the city was all this while
202under the rule of a most profligate and tyrannical youth,
who showed himself even then to be what he afterwards
turned out. Some of the senators, especially Helvidius
Priscus,—a man who, however, was not at all in
keeping with his time,—allowed themselves to be drawn
into an altogether ill-timed “fronde” against the government,
a plot alike unfortunate for themselves, for Vespasian,
and for the empire. Under these circumstances,
a feeling began to gain ground in Gaul, the symptoms
of which already displayed themselves before. As early
as in the reign of the emperor Tiberius, there had been
a most senseless rising of the Ædui under Julius Sacrovir;
then came that of Vindex, in which a national
Gallic feeling manifested itself, being very likely the
reason why Virginius Rufus had him murdered and his
army of Gauls scattered: the act of that Roman general
thus appears morally in a very bad light. The
death of Vindex must be looked upon as an event, which
did not quell the national spirit of the Gauls, but rather
kindled it still more. We have not indeed any complete
or adequate notion of the state of Gaul under the Romans:
that country cannot possibly have been otherwise
than in a thriving condition, even from the times
of Cæsar; of southern Gaul, this is certain. All our
knowledge of Gaul is limited to the few things said
about it in history, and to what we are told in Pliny
and Strabo: these two, however, only speak of the civitates,
without making any mention whatever of the
smaller places; and they leave us without the least information
as to their internal affairs. Here we trace
them merely from the beginning of Tacitus’ account;
for otherwise they are not to be met with in history
until the end of the third century, which is treated of
by the wretched Scriptores historiæ Augustæ: the itineraries
also give only a few places on some of the high roads.
For this reason, Gaul on our maps looks like a
newly cultivated country with a few towns: this,
however, is merely the accidental effect of the scantiness
203of our information. The East, on the other
hand, being constantly spoken of in history from the
Macedonian era down to the fifth, and sixth centuries,
the maps of Asia Minor and Syria are dotted all
over with towns. Gaul was under the Romans a well
tilled and thickly peopled country: there are found in
many parts of France ruins of very considerable towns,
the names of which are quite uncertain or altogether
unknown. Thus a short time ago, in the neighbourhood
of Montbeliard, magnificent ruins were discovered
of a place which very likely is only to be met with in
an itinerary, and even there with a doubtful name only:
the excavations near Valenciennes, and in Normandy
and elsewhere, betoken towns of great extent, and evidently
of much population. To fill up the gaps of the
geography of ancient Gaul, one should keep to the documents
of the Merovingian and Carolingian periods, in
which the places had Latin and Gaulish names of old
date: for then there were no new towns built, as it was
a time of destruction. The population of Gaul had been
nearly annihilated by the Cimbric wars, and afterwards
it had again severely suffered under Cæsar; but for one
hundred and ten years, there had been peace, during
which the population in so favoured a land must have
doubled or trebled. We are not to suppose that there
was the same prosperity as in France in the German
countries along the banks of the Rhine; for these
were undoubtedly far behind in civilization: they were
very like Germany Proper, being densely peopled, and
having many villages, but hardly any towns. Their
population has most incorrectly been reckoned with that
of Gaul; but it was thoroughly German ever since the
times of Cæsar, perhaps even much earlier still; it never
belonged to Gaul, except politically under the Romans.
A boundary line had been settled between the Romans
and the Germans,—probably by treaties,—namely the
country between the Meuse and the Waal, the insula
Batavorum, which was subject to the Romans: there
204was a Roman garrison there, but the natives had not yet
adopted the Roman language and manners. From these
Batavians the rebellion of Civilis arose, which spread
over the German provinces of the Roman empire and
over France, the Lingones taking the lead. The insurrection
was very dangerous, as the German tribes on the
right bank of the Rhine declared for it; some of them
more actively, and others more sluggishly, being hindered
only by their own division and dissensions, and
by all sorts of jealousies and petty quarrels. The Roman
generals, on the other hand, opposed them with great
resolution. Still less union than among the Germans
with each other, was there between the Germans and
Gauls; whereas the Gauls and Romans were much more
akin, as the great men among the Gauls had adopted
the Roman language, and Roman manners generally prevailed
among them. How the rebellion ended, we do
not exactly know, as Tacitus’ histories are broken off
just here: that the insurgents were put down, is self-evident
from the condition in which they were afterwards;
and it is also expressly told us by Xiphilinus.
Domitian, even before the arrival of Vespasian, took upon
himself the command in those parts; but he had no
share in the subjugation of the rebels, which was accomplished
by the generals of his father.
Vespasian reigned for more than nine years, and his
rule was thoroughly beneficial. It is difficult to judge
of him, as Tacitus fails us here. Suetonius is a very
sorry painter of character, and his opinions are of as
little worth as those of the Scriptores historiæ Augustæ:
in fact, he has no turn whatever for writing history. He
is a learned man, and he does not write badly; but he
cannot take a wide view. The earlier times are better
handled by him; for there he had books before him:
without books, however, he was not able to do much;
and thus the times which he had seen himself, or about
which he had been told by those who had seen them,
are the very worst written. His work was certainly
205published before Tacitus’ Historiæ came out; for had he
had them before his eyes, he could not possibly have
described the anarchy after Nero’s death in so wretched
a way: it must have been a work of his youth, and not
indeed of the time when he was secretary of state under
Hadrian. We are in a sad plight here, and moreover
the materials for the history of the emperors are throughout
very bad: if we had Dio, we should be all right; but
we only have the pitiful abridgment of Xiphilinus. We
can therefore only dwell on single traits.
Suetonius praises Vespasian, and yet he tells us things
which either do away with the praise, or which ought
not to have been recorded, as they were mere rumours:
when we compare both of these statements together,
we are justly astonished, and therefore feel uncertain on
more than one point. Thus much may we look upon
as borne out by facts. Vespasian was wanting in the
higher qualities of the soul, nor had he such a heart as
Trajan had; but he was still a very worthy person for
the time in which he lived, being an honest and just
man, especially in a negative sense, and one who was
not guilty of tyranny: only some isolated instances of
extortion are mentioned of him. His morals were as
spotless as could ever have been expected in times like
those. After the death of his first wife, he lived in a
sort of left-handed marriage with a woman of low estate,
to whom he, however, granted all the honours of a lawful
wife, and with whom he was happy: she must indeed
have been an excellent woman. He quite loathed
the debauchery and the awfully vulgar and wasteful
gluttony which had become so common among the Romans:
luxury had then thrown itself into the fashion of
extravagant feasts, got up at the maddest cost. Vespasian,
on the contrary, who had kept his old simple tastes
unaltered, reclaimed his subjects, as well by his example
as by the open expression of his disgust, from this
way of living: he thus brought about a reform in Roman
life which is remarkable in history: Never again
206did this reckless prodigality become as rife among the
Romans, as it had been in the times before Vespasian:
it is true, as we see from Ammianus’ excellent description,
that in the fourth century it was again to be found
among the great men; but Vespasian had struck at the
roots of it. He ruled the state with great care and conscientiousness,
putting down every sort of waste, and
getting the confused finances in order: he showed no
mistrust towards the governors, though, on the other
hand, he would uphold the provinces against them. Yet
the feelings of a refined soul were unknown to him: he
did nothing to foster intellect, and he had an antipathy
to men of education and philosophers, as well as to those
who were something more than mere men of business:
these he considered as useless, and even had a hostile
feeling against them. Helvidius Priscus, who personally
and intellectually, by his mind and his acquirements,
certainly was one of the first men of Rome, professed to
be of the Stoic philosophy. The Roman Stoics had a
spice of republicanism in them which was ill suited to
the age; and this gave birth to an unpardonable petulance,
which could lead to no good. Helvidius was blind
to the good qualities of Vespasian, and gave himself
up to an utterly useless opposition. In this he cannot
be excused; but what is worst of all, Vespasian conceived
such a spite against him, that he had him put to
death: it was the most noble blood of the Roman state
which he then shed. Otherwise he kept himself pure
from blood: on several occasions, when he had received
no such provocation, he even showed himself truly mild.
He was also grateful, and overlooked a great deal in
Mucianus and others. Antonius Primus likewise lost
his life, but deservedly: he had made the revolution for
Vespasian that he might thus rule the Roman empire
himself; and when he did not find this answer, he plotted
against him. Suetonius particularly charges Vespasian
with avarice; yet it is by no means certain whether
there is any truth in this. He is said to have declared
207that the state wanted for its support quadringinties millies,
that is to say, two thousand millions of dollars.
This seems quite absurd. Even if we conceive all the
countries of the empire as it was then, to have been as
thriving as France and Italy are now, it seems scarcely
possible that such a sum should have been raised. Nor
can we understand what it should have been wanted
for, although there was an army of about four hundred
thousand men, and these received treble pay, a denarius
a day. That number cannot be correct. It is true that
he spent much in building; but building is not after all
one of the necessary expenses of the state. In the reign
of Vespasian, very great works were completed in Rome
and elsewhere: nor were they merely what could not
be dispensed with; but such also was their magnificence
that they were a lasting honour to the empire, like the
Colosseum and the temple of Peace. This does not agree
with his sordidissima avaritia; and such facts are to be
set against the anecdotes of Suetonius. Vespasian
died when upwards of sixty-nine.
The government had in reality been carried on under
him by his son Titus, who on his return from Jerusalem
had reached his thirty-second year. Vespasian
himself felt no vocation for it. Titus may have had the
guilt of many of the unrighteous deeds which were done
in Vespasian’s reign, however strange the contrast may
seem between his own rule and this administration:
before his father’s death, he was very unpopular; people
looked upon him but with fear and dread. What was
afterwards so much praised in him, so that he was even
called deliciæ generis humani, was after all nothing but
his openhandedness: he seems to have wished to gladden
the hearts of those about him by his liberality, and
to load them with presents. In this way he employed
the treasures hoarded up by his father, who had kept
for himself the management of the finances. Perhaps
there is no ruler who has done more real good to the
Roman world than Vespasian. One of his fine qualities
208was the openness of his disposition: owing to this he
placed full trust in Titus, made him præfectus prætorio,
and quite gave up to him a part of the government.
How very different this is from the behaviour of eastern
princes, who always utterly mistrust their sons! Titus
was by no means popular: some violent and also cruel
deeds are laid to his charge; Cæcina, for instance, who
played a great part among the Vitellians, was killed by
his orders. Yet it is said that proofs of a conspiracy of
his against the house of Vespasian had been discovered.
The fears which people had entertained of Titus,
were not justified during his reign. With his accession
his whole bearing changed; and the leading
features in his character were benevolence and affability,
which in a prince are always prized much
higher than any other quality: let a prince be kind to
those about him, and he may forget all his other duties.
His father had been exceedingly frugal; Titus, on the
contrary, was generous, even profuse. The former had
spent great sums on buildings only: he had restored
Rome; he had altered the senseless edifices of Nero, the
golden house in particular; and he had built the huge
Colosseum, which, although destined for a dismal purpose,
was quite to the taste of the Roman populace.
Vespasian did not live to see the dedication of the Colosseum,
which was celebrated by Titus only. The extravagance
displayed in it, had none of the old simple
grandeur; but as was the case in the whole time of the
emperors, and even in the last stage of the republic,
there was something whimsical and repulsive about it.
Goethe has a very nice remark on this subject in the
Farbenlehre (Science of Colours).[43] Even women had
209to fight to death as gladiators; but Titus’ humanity
did not reach so far as this.
His reign was perfect tranquillity abroad, and great
comfort in Rome; but it was visited with calamities.
There was an immense fire in the city, besides the catastrophe
of Herculanum and Pompeii, when Vesuvius,
which had been quiet since the time of the Greek settlements,
all at once began to throw up fire—fortunately
for us.
The love of the people for Titus was the more decided,
as they were by no means mistaken with regard to
Domitian.
Domitian was a bad son and a bad brother, and there
is no doubt of his having sought the life of his father
and his brother; especially of the latter, who, however,
never tried to avenge himself upon him, and even treated
him with confidence. Domitian is one of those men,
who are too lightly thought of because they are bad.
What he is reproached with may be true, that he showed
himself a coward in war; although this is still problematical:
that his boundless vanity led to no corresponding
achievements, is certain; his cruelty, his falseness,
are beyond a doubt; yet for all that he ought not
to be estimated too low. He was a very accomplished
man, and of a decided talent for literature. Rutgertsius
has already remarked, that the paraphrase of the Phænomena
of Aratus commonly ascribed to Germanicus, is
by Domitian, who as emperor had taken the name of
Cæsar Germanicus, as it was more illustrious than that
of the Flavii. That it cannot have been the adopted
son of Tiberius, is evident from the way in which the
poet speaks of his father, whom he introduces as a ruler,
and as one who had had the apotheosis. I believe that
the poem was written in the time of Titus. It is very
210respectable as to its general composition, poor as the
subject is. Moreover, although Quintilian may have
said too much in what he tells us of Domitian, and this
exaggeration may have been slavish and in the court-style
of despotism; still he certainly would not from
mere flattery have praised what was thoroughly worthless.
Domitian had a taste for Roman literature, which
has done good: he established the great endowment for
rhetoricians which Quinctilian received, and he instituted
the Agon Capitolinus in which poets were crowned:
Roman literature, therefore, took a fresh start in
his time. Not to speak of Tacitus, who was then a youth,
and of Pliny, the younger,—however little one may admire
him,—who was growing up (many well educated
people of his day wrote as well as he did); there is Statius
belonging to that age, whose Silvæ are among the
most agreeable works of antiquity which are left to us,
there is Juvenal, who was also one of the greatest minds,
but who bore a deadly hatred to Domitian. We see from
Domitian’s poem, that he was against the false taste of
his times. He slighted Statius; yet for this we are not
so much to accuse him of partiality, as to acknowledge
the correctness of his judgment. Statius is great in his
little poems, which are some of those genuine effusions
which are tinged with the true spirit of the country:
one enjoys them particularly, when one reads them in
Italy. But his Thebais is a cold, laboured poem, quite
bombastic and unbearable: it is the one with which he
did not win the Capitoline prize.
As all wasteful prodigality had been rooted out under
Vespasian, and Roman life had been brought back to
frugality, the good consequences were lasting, and Domitian
also kept in this path. He was by no means a
spendthrift, being profuse only to the army, the pay of
which he raised to four hundred and eighty denarii, and
that, it seems, from cowardice: for this he tried to make
up by lessening the number of the troops, which was
not at all suited to the circumstances of the times. In
211the East indeed there was profound peace with the Parthians,
weakness having manifested itself among them,
as is always the case in Asia when states have reached
a certain point of greatness: the Parthians, therefore,
left the Romans unmolested, as long as these did not
attack them. War was, however, waging on the northern
frontier. Tacitus’ Agricola throws some light on
this; it is one of the greatest masterpieces of biography
which we have from antiquity. Agricola completed the
conquest of Britain: he went beyond the two Firths
against the Highland hills, and built a fleet with which
he sailed round Scotland, and visited the Orkney
islands. This is the brilliant military epoch of Domitian.
To this circumnavigation of Scotland the statue
of Oceanus seems to refer, which all through the middle
ages lay at the entrance of the Forum Martium.[44] A
statue of the Rhine likewise belongs to the time of
Domitian.
In his earliest youth, in the days of the insurrection
of Civilis, Domitian had been in Gaul; as emperor, he
conducted a war against the Chatti in the country about
the Mayne. Could one but rely here on the medals, and
on the flatteries of Martial, he got the surname of Germanicus
most rightfully; but the historians all agree in
this, that with regard to those victories the nation was
imposed upon. Yet even then the war may not have
been without advantage to the Romans. Certain it is
that the Germans on the right bank of the Rhine were
not able to make head against their legions; nor is it
to be wondered at: for an ill-trained militia could not
stand its ground against the Romans, and moreover the
unhallowed dissensions among the Germans were as
mischievous as ever. War was likewise waged on the
banks of the Austrian Danube, where nations such as
the Marcomanni and the Sueves, of which we have heard
nothing for a long space of time, again make their appearance
212feebly allied with Slavonic tribes; and indeed
they showed themselves to be formidable.
The most important war under Domitian, was that
against the Dacians, the same race as the ancient Getæ,
who as early as Alexander’s time had driven the Scythian
tribes before them. Since Diceneus (in the reign of
Augustus) the great Dacian monarchy in Transylvania,
and very likely almost the whole of Wallachia and part
of Moldavia and the Banat, had arisen. They were rich,
owing to their mines; and we see from the column of Trajan,
that they were not at all looked upon as barbarians,
but that they were even held in higher esteem than the
Germans: they had fortified towns and wooden houses,
such as are still common in the Tyrol. Their king Decebalus
was a man of much greatness of character, and worthy
of ruling his nation in such critical circumstances.
They had a well organized constitution, and an aristocracy,
who by way of distinction wore either caps or long
hair: they were withal a brave and free people. Since the
days of Augustus, they had often threatened the Roman
frontier; and as soon as Rome felt weak, they burst into
Mœsia: to Pannonia, perhaps, they did not come; for
the country between the Theiss and the Danube was
nothing but deep marshes. Lower down, towards Pressburg,
it was inhabited partly by Gallic, and partly by
German tribes. Of Domitian’s Dacian wars, we have
but very confused accounts; Xiphilinus and Zonaras
entirely pass over the details. We know thus much,
that once at least the Romans suffered a great defeat,
and that the Dacians overran Mœsia. But such wars,
even when successfully carried on, always in the long
run became dangerous to these peoples; and therefore
Decebalus concluded a peace in a form which seems to
us humiliating. This does not, however, prove much,
as such was the general custom in wars against the Romans.
Domitian could now take the name of Dacicus,
and, after his great losses, return in triumph to Rome.
From the time of this campaign, Domitian’s cruelty
213displayed itself more and more. Before this, some individuals
had already been put to death either on suspicion,
or because he hated them; an insurrection also
had broken out under L. Antonius Saturninus in Germania
Superior, that is to say, Alsace and Suabia, as far
as the limites: these districts were covered with Roman
troops, and Saturninus had himself proclaimed emperor
by them, but was conquered by L. Appius Maximus,
and paid for it with his life. Domitian’s cruelty was
within the bounds of human nature, being different from
that of Caligula and Nero. Caligula was mad, and Nero
very nearly so; they were downright brutes, and their
cruelty, to use an expression of Aristotle’s, was παρὰ
φύσιν: to characters like these, the rules of morality do
not apply; they are degenerate specimens of humanity.
Domitian’s cruelty was that of a thoroughly bad man;
it sprang from human passions, from envy, malice, and
the mere love of mischief: avarice there was none in it,
as this is rather an eastern vice. In the senate, at that
time, there were men who were worthy of being the
friends of Agricola and Tacitus: Herennius Senecio had
written the life of Helvidius Priscus; Arulenus Rusticus,
that of Pætus Thrasea; and their writings displayed
much warmth of heart. Maternus and others were
likewise authors, though perhaps not altogether free
from declamation; but literature had now again some
reality in it, and it was that very reality which gave offence
to the tyrant. Then arose the horrible class of
the informers, the description of which is one of the
most interesting things in Pliny’s letters: they were a
very different set from the delatores of Tiberius’ reign.
These men are justly abhorred in a moral point of view;
but they were men of intellect, and some of them of no
common talent. The great mass was in the days of
Tiberius much worse than it was now; and so it was, of
course, with the victims: for though the women, as we
learn from Juvenal, were still thoroughly depraved, the
men, owing to the length of their training in the school
214of hardship, had become better and more energetic.
Domitian was even present at the delationes: the informers
were ingenious, well-bred persons, who lived
in good society, and also turned their talents against
equally distinguished, but noble-minded people. The
time was awful; it passed, as Tacitus says, in silent
dread: the impression which it made on a great mind, is
incomparably described in the introduction of the Agricola
and in the Historiæ.
Particularly fearful were the three last years of Domitian.
Had his rage been only directed against the better
men, he might have lived longer; but he also turned
it against the bad and fierce ones, against Prætorian
officers and his own wife Domitia, who had offended
him, and whom he had offended. Then was the conspiracy
formed against him, and he was stabbed by the officers
of his guards.
He had built the Forum Palladium near the Forum
Augustum, and established government offices and courts
of Justice there: part of the wall and the hall are still
preserved as monuments of that age. He also erected
many other magnificent buildings.
M. COCCEIUS NERVA. M. ULPIUS TRAJANUS.
The histories of Nerva and of Trajan are some of those
which are comparatively the most imperfectly known
to us, although these two emperors have so gladdened
the hearts of the Romans by their rule, and theirs was
an age of the best Roman literature, an age of which
moreover so many other monuments are come down to
us. Tacitus evidently has not described this period: he
says that he had kept it for when he was old; to excuse
himself for not writing contemporary history, as he could
certainly not have praised it unconditionally. Trajan
himself has written memoirs, especially of the events of
215the Dacian war; but no author of any note has dwelt
upon this important history.
Nerva was much beyond sixty, and a venerable consular
and senator: how he came to be proclaimed, we
know not. When proclaimed, he was gladly received by
the senate, and the prætorians assented to the choice. He
set forth the principles on which he would govern, and
he remained true to them. But he was very cautious
in making reforms: for being old, he did not venture to
undertake much, or to give provocation to the prætorians;
and therefore he punished so few of the informers
who under Domitian had been a curse to mankind.
This gave offence and disgust to many honourable men,
while it raised the courage of many bad ones: the feeling
of actual happiness was chilled by the consciousness
that all these men were still alive and in office, and that
they might one day again become dangerous. The consequence
of this weakness of Nerva’s was, that those who
wished to continue the time of Domitian, now used their
influence in the senate to do anything they liked. Junius
Mauricus therefore, when the death of an informer was
talked of at a party at the emperor’s, said, “Yes, if he
were still alive, nothing would be done to him; but he
would be in company with us.”[45] The præfect Casperius
called upon the soldiers to demand the murderers
of Domitian from Nerva; and on his refusal they seized
them by force, and two of them were most horribly ill-used:
they then compelled Nerva to express his approval
of it in the senate.[46] Nerva, feeling his own
weakness, had recourse to the same means as Galba to
strengthen himself in his old age: but he made a much
more happy choice than the former had done,—he adopted
Trajan.
Hispania Bœtica was by this time quite Latinized,
and Latin only was spoken there, at least in the towns;
just as West Prussia and Silesia are Germanized. Italica,
216in the neighbourhood of Seville, was one of the earliest
settlements in those parts; it was founded by Roman
soldiers of the Scipios, who chose to remain in a
country in which they had lived a number of years, and
got families by Spanish wives: the town, being constituted
as a colony or a second-rate municipium, became
very thriving. It was the birthplace of Trajan and
Hadrian: Trajan’s family was one of the most distinguished
there. M. Ulpius Trajanus was the son of a
man of note: his father had in the reign of Nero already
attained a high rank in the Roman army, and was much
looked up to; the son became known and honoured
even in the times of Domitian, which were so little favourable
to the display of excellence. A happier choice
Nerva could never have made; it was received with joy
and respect by the Prætorians themselves. At that time,
Trajan was in Rome; but he soon went to Germany
where his head-quarters were at Cologne. Our knowledge
of the affairs of Germany in those days is very
scanty; the relations of that country with the Romans
were still strikingly peaceful. The name of a place on
the military road from the Main to Augsburg, Aræ
Flaviæ, proves that (probably under Domitian) the Romans
had already taken possession of this sinus imperii.
Whether the rampart and ditch, which, beginning from
the Westerwald, reached along the Lahn, the Taunus,
and the Main, to the Altmühl, was or was not made at
that time, the country was at all events subject to the
Romans. Free German tribes were dwelling only in
Franconia, the Upper Palatinate, Hesse, and Westphalia;
Suevia, in the reigns of Augustus and Tiberius, was
not yet under the Roman rule; the Frisian tribes were
subdued under Tiberius, but they afterwards became
free. In the days of Nerva, there was a little war in
Suabia; of this the only trace is to be met with in an
inscription which speaks of the Victoria Suevica. The
boundaries of the several tribes are most distinctly given
217in the Germany of Tacitus, where we see how they did
not interfere with each other.
Nerva, who reigned but one year and a half, died,
A. D. 98, in his sixty-sixth year. The empire was so
firmly settled, that Trajan, although absent in Cologne,
could quietly step into the imperial dignity as if it were
an inheritance: he did not come to Rome until the following
year; but allegiance was yielded to him everywhere.
He now soon showed his energy, as he laid
hold upon the ruffians whom Nerva had spared: a few
only atoned for their guilt with their lives, by far the
greater part being exiled to the rocks of the Mediterranean.
He took a still bolder step when he brought the
Prætorians to account, who had had a share in the late
misdeeds; and had the ringleaders executed. By this
means, his rule was completely strengthened. His reforms
were gentle, nor did they reach much beyond individuals:
he reduced the taxes, especially taking off
those which had been laid as a penalty on the provinces;
and he must have got the finances into excellent order,
as Hadrian after him was able to remit such immense
sums. Whilst he thus lightened the burthens of the
world, he had not only money for expensive wars, but
also for the most costly works: he never was embarrassed
for money. The details of the care which he took
of the provinces, and also the principles of his administration,
we may glean from the tenth book of Pliny’s
Epistles: the good emperors checked the arbitrary rule
of the governors by looking themselves into what was
done. It was part of Trajan’s happiness, that his father,
who was in a hale old age, still lived many years
to see the successes of his son, and to have his heart
gladdened by his glory: such fine family affection had
never been seen in the Roman world before. He was
married to an excellent wife in Plotina, who, however,
did not bear him any children: the praise of this woman
far outweighs those few anecdotes which look very
like gossip. His sister Marciana was likewise most
218respectable, a true matron. And to these two ladies, a
considerable improvement in the Roman manners is
certainly owing: all the empresses, since Livia—with
the exception of Vespasian’s wife, who as a freed woman
could not indeed appear in society—had exercised
a most baneful influence upon morals. The open shamelessness
which was quite the fashion, was now put a
stop to.
Trajan’s true bent was for war and for great works.
This, as the empire was then situated, was by no means
to be found fault with. Whilst he gave occupation to his
subjects and his armies, he imparted a higher tone to
the age in which he lived: if such a universal empire
continues to have peace, torpor and stagnation must be
the consequence. Trajan’s wars and victories were certainly
beneficial to the Roman state; the only question
was, Whither were they to lead?—There was no stopping
short; and hence it may be seen, how wretched is
such a dominion over the world.
The cause of his first war, was one which to Roman
feelings appeared a just one. Domitian had made peace
with Decebalus on condition of paying a tribute; this
tribute Trajan would not pay, and Decebalus, conscious
of his power, declared war, A. D. 101. His empire comprised
Transylvania, the mountain districts of Moldavia
and Wallachia, and perhaps also the plains of the latter
country and of Upper Hungary; in the plains of Moldavia
and Bessarabia he in all likelihood ruled over the
Sarmatians: his frontiers cannot be accurately laid
down. This mighty and strong country was inhabited
by a most warlike, free, and civilized people, whose
prince was a worthy match for Trajan. The war lasted
for three years, until Trajan, by taking the capital, compelled
Decebalus to conclude a peace, the terms of which
are fully known to us from the pillar: the Roman prisoners
and deserters were to be given up, and Decebalus
had to pay a large war-contribution,—which was
not hard for him to do, as Dacia was rich in silver,—and
219he was still left as an independent prince in his
kingdom. Some years afterwards, the war broke out
again. The peace was a very oppressive one; its heavy
burthens were only felt after it was concluded, when
the insolence of the Roman governors made matters unbearable;
and as the Dacians repented of what they
had done, Rome declared war once more. Decebalus
fell; and in the second campaign, Dacia was made a
province, which it continued to be down to the times
of the Goths. In the heart of the country, a number of
Roman colonies were established; one, for instance, in its
capital, Zarmizegethusa, under the name of Colonia Ulpia;
and also especially in Transylvania and the mountain
districts of Moldavia and Wallachia: no traces of
any are found in the plains. And so firmly did the Roman
rule take root there, that to this day, after the
most varied vicissitudes, the language spoken in Wallachia
is but a corruption of Latin, although Rome was
only mistress there for a hundred and fifty years. The
Wallachs, however, spread further towards Pindus in
Macedon, and into Greece and Epirus: they are a mysterious
people. From the many ruins and inscriptions
in it, one may see that Dacia was a very flourishing and
civilized country.
There now followed some years of peace, which certainly
did not make him happy. When therefore the
Parthian king had deposed the king of Armenia, which
was subject to the doubtful sovereignty of Rome and
Parthia, and had raised a kinsman of his to the throne;
Trajan, availing himself of the opportunity, took up
arms, marched into Armenia, and received the homage
of Parthamasiris, the king set up by the Parthians.
With this he was satisfied, the king having come to his
camp, and received back his kingdom from him as a fief,
which it in truth may be called. But Trajan went on
with the war. It is a pity that we do not know its
history in detail: like the Dacian wars, it must have
been rich indeed in great achievements, as nature opposed
220immense difficulties. Thus much seems clear,
that Trajan took Armenia for the base of his operations,
and penetrated towards the lower Tigris. There he reduced,
not only Seleucia, but also Ctesiphon, the capital
of the king of kings; and he came as far as the ocean,
that is to say, the Persian Gulf. Here he either began
to feel the difficulties in the way of his darling wish to
conquer the whole of the Persian Empire; or it was
with him as with many a great general who waged war
for its own sake, finding pleasure in it, that he became
tired of war, and thought that he should be able at any
time to return to it. Thus it was with Napoleon, in
whose case it saved the world. He was sometimes sick
of war; and as he then wished to rest himself for some
months in Paris, he would make peace, meaning to renew
the war afterwards: he liked moreover to let people
somewhat raise their heads once more, and then, when
they had recovered their strength a little, to beat them
again with so much the greater glory. Thus Trajan
also felt induced to grant peace to the Parthians, after
having given them Parthamaspates, one of their pretenders,
for a king. The Parthians, as individuals, deserve
but little of our esteem: they were barbarians,
and they gained their civilization only from the Greek
towns. Persia did not rise into eminence till it was
ruled by Sassanides. At this time, the Parthians had
vassal-kings in the different countries, and the king
himself with his court travelled from one of these to the
other, and was entertained by them: his proper residence
was at Ctesiphon.
Trajan, however, was not yet able to make up his
mind what to do. He then set about the conquest of
Arabia. From inscriptions and coins, and from the
things there which had not existed until his time, we
may conclude that he made Arabia Petræa on the eastern
coast of the Red Sea down to the Gulf of Acaba—even
as far as Medina, if Medina were not included—a
Roman province, and received the homage of the Arab
221tribes between the Euphrates and Syria. He had in
the treaty of peace caused the Parthians to give up to
him the supremacy over Osroëne, Mesopotamia, and
Kurdistan: Edessa likewise was incorporated into the
empire. Thus he reserved for himself the groundwork
for a future war, just as Napoleon did: he undoubtedly
meant, should he live long enough, to extend the frontier
as far as to India; or at least, to leave the conquest
for his successor.
Nubia, between Egypt and the upper cataract, was
likewise subjected in the reign of Trajan to the Roman
sway, under which it remained for a hundred and fifty
years. Moreover Fezzan between Tripoli and the town
of Bornu on the Niger were Roman; which is proved
by the inscriptions at Gharma.
Whilst Trajan could not make up his mind to leave
the East, he also stayed for a considerable period in Cilicia;
and there he fell sick at Selinus, which was afterwards
called Trajanopolis, and died in the sixty-first, or
sixty-fourth year of his life, A. D. 117. His ashes were
brought to Rome, and enshrined there in a golden urn
beneath the triumphal pillar. In the last months of his
life, he had adopted Hadrian; or Plotina had spread a
report of his having done so. This was undoubtedly a
happy thing for Rome: for although Hadrian in his
after life was guilty of sad misdeeds, it was owing to
his ill state of health; so that he was hardly accountable
for them. He was a near kinsman of Trajan and a most
able man.
ART AND LITERATURE UNDER TRAJAN.
Trajan’s buildings are works, which are not only to be
noticed in the topography of Rome, but belong to history
as great achievements. Apollodorus of Damascus
was his great architect, whose likeness I had the pleasure
222of discovering: it is the figure of a man in a Greek
dress, presenting to the Emperor, who is seated, a drawing
on a scroll; and it is on the bas reliefs of the arch
of Constantine, the upper part of which is undoubtedly
taken from the arch of Trajan. In the early times of
the republic, art had the finish of the Etruscan school,
owing to Etruscan artists; before the first Punic War,
painting also flourished in Rome. Then followed the
imitation of the Greeks, of which we cannot give a positive
opinion. In the reign of Augustus, the material
began to be of paramount importance, notwithstanding
which the style was still grand: instead of the good freestone
from the quarries of the neighbourhood, people
would have nothing but marble. In the temple of Mars
Ultor, all the columns are of marble. Otherwise Augustus,
on the whole, still built many great works of the
stone of the country; and this was yet done even as late
as Claudius. But in the course of time, the taste for foreign
marbles became more and more decided: Phrygian,
Numidian, and other marbles were now used. In Nero’s
days, Greek architecture with marble pillars was in fashion;
and the material was looked upon as the chief
thing, which in architecture is perfectly absurd. With
the exception of the Colosseum, all the buildings of Titus
and Domitian’s time are overdone; though highly finished,
they want distinctness of character: the impression
of grandeur is quite lost. Under Trajan, architecture
acquires new splendour and dignity; which was owing to
that Greek whom we have named: in a new form, it went
to work with the treasures of the whole of the immense
empire; so that it never signified whether it cost some
millions more or less. Trajan either made or completed
noble highways; he paved the Via Appia from Capua
to Brundusium with basalt; he drained the Pontine
marshes as far as they can be drained, and built the
harbour of Centumcellæ (Civita Vecchia); the conviction
must even then have been come to, that the Tiber
was continually filling the harbours of Ostia and Portus
223with silt. He built baths at the hot springs of Civita
Vecchia, and made the mole and harbour of Ancona:
for the Tyrrhenian maritime towns were entirely destroyed,
though it is not known when. The greatest of
his buildings are at Rome, such as the Forum Ulpium
and therein the Columna Cochlis. The slope of the
Quirinal Hill, which reached almost as far as the Capitol,
was for a considerable length lowered upwards of a
hundred and forty feet (it may be that I do not quite
remember the exact measure[47]): this height is marked
by the pillar. It was his object to place the government
offices in his Forum. The Forum Ulpium, like
the Forum Augusti before it, was not, as formerly, an
open space, which now would no longer have had any
meaning: we know for certain, that the finance department,
and all that belonged to it, had its offices there:
the whole was like a city of palaces. In the middle
stood the column, round which was twined a representation
of the two Dacian wars of Trajan in bas relief.
Although these bas reliefs have suffered from fire and
lightning, they are still quite excellent, as this branch
of the art was then at its height: they are in exquisite
taste. These figures are also of value in an historical
and antiquarian point of view, as they give us representations
of weapons, armour, dresses, and buildings
of which otherwise we should not have known anything.
Within, there are steps which lead to the top;
and beneath, there is a vault in which the ashes of Trajan
were laid: of the latter nothing more is to be found.
On the top was the bronze statue of Trajan: this
was taken down in the times of barbarism, and Sixtus
V. replaced it by a statue of St. Peter. In the Forum
round it, two gigantic buildings in the form of basilicæ
have been brought to light by the clearings made by
224the French. The magnificence of these, beggars all description:
among other things, there are floors in them
of the most beautiful Numidian marble. At the entrances
of the Forum, there arose triumphal arches;
which we only know from coins: it may be that Constantine
despoiled one of these, and had a piece of it
patched into his own triumphal arch.
Under Hadrian also, costly buildings were erected;
as for instance, the temple of Venus and Roma: but
unluckily he had no taste, and following his own whims,
he exercised a baneful influence. Of the time of Antoninus
Pius, we have ruins which are much less beautiful;
and under M. Antoninus, there remains of sculpture
only the art of casting in bronze: his bronze statue
is excellent; but the sculptures on the arch of Antoninus
are far inferior to those of Trajan’s reign. In
the triumphal arch of Severus, a most dreadful falling
off is to be seen: even the proportions are neglected, as
people were no longer able to draw. The spread of
Christianity is unjustly reproached with having driven
out the fine arts: they had already died away before that.
But Trajan’s age was just as great in literature. Tacitus,
it is true, stands quite alone; he is one of those
mighty minds which are no creatures of any age. Yet
even the mightiest souls feel the influence of their age,
which still gives them their tone and their impulses,
though it does not make them what they are. It is
quite useless to ask Who was Tacitus’ teacher?—he was
taught by the sorrows of his times. His great soul was
deeply wounded by the horrors of Domitian’s reign, the
distress of which was followed under Nerva and Trajan
by a refreshing period. The first edition of the Agricola
was written by him in the latter years of Domitian, as
he says in the wretchedly corrupted beginning of the
second chapter: (of the correctness of my emendation
I have not the least doubt.[48]) He afterwards revised
225the work. One may see here all the greatness of the
man, though it is struggling with the difficulty in finding
utterance, which arises from a decided aversion to
diffuseness,—from a striving after terseness without any
affectation, from a wish to express with the greatest
conciseness nothing but the thought itself, nor even to
waste a word, notwithstanding a great richness of ideas,
This is most displayed in Tacitus’ earlier writings; in the
life of Agricola, and in his Germany. He did not want
to write large books, but only small treatises; and yet
he wished to take in them the complete description of
his subject, all the fulness of his thoughts was to be laid
before his future reader. The real work of his life,
which he began later,—evidently later even than the
Germania,—are the Historiæ, the most finished performance
of his that we know of: had we them entire,
we should see him passing through all the various styles
of history. There he did not condense; but he told his
story at full length, and with much detail: there is no
reason to doubt that these histories comprised the whole
of the thirty books mentioned by St. Jerome. After he
had finished this work, he wrote the Annals besides, so
as to give a full account of the times of the Cæsars from
the completion and establishment of the principatus,
after the farce of the republican forms had been put an
end to. These he wrote concisely, throwing out some
particular parts only in bold relief: the nearer he approached
the Historiæ, the more diffuse he must have
become. At the latter end of Nero, he certainly went
as much into detail as in the Historiæ. Tacitus is not
difficult to understand when one has once entered into
his way of thinking: it is pitiful to hear people complain
of him and Sallust for affectation and mannerism.
If we compare the wonderful symmetry in Tacitus and
Sallust with Livy, we see that they for their times
were far greater masters of style than the latter; for
226whenever he takes upon himself to be argumentative,
as in the preface and in the passage on the triumph of
Cornelius Cossus in the fourth book, he becomes infinitely
harder than any part of Tacitus. Livy wishes there
to be short and pithy, and he is unintelligible: the last
named passage is the most difficult which I know of in
the good Latin prose. Wherever he is not trying to be
concise, he is very easy.
At the side of Tacitus, who stands quite alone,—as
did Æschylus and Sophocles, as did many a lyric poet,
and as did Lessing, who among our German prose writers
has not found his equal,—but whose transcendent
merits were not acknowledged by his age, as men were
glad to soothe their feelings by placing a number of people
on a par with him; Pliny the Younger was mentioned
in his day. Pliny’s letters are psychologically
most interesting; they give one much insight into the
human mind. He was one of the most good natured of
men, but exceedingly vain: before the eyes of the public,
he had a strong feeling of his own greatness and
classicality. Although in conversation with his friends,
he certainly used to criticise Tacitus, and to deplore his
defects; in his letters to him, he is full of humility, and
makes himself infinitely small, just that Tacitus might
be favourably disposed towards him, and extol him
highly: he would say that the public always named
him and Tacitus together; but that he himself was
well aware how much indeed Tacitus was his superior.
His letters are most instructive, and give us an
invaluable picture of the times; and we recognise in
Pliny himself a benevolent and useful man, who makes a
very good use of his large fortune, one who was an excellent
civil governor, but never free from childish vanity: he
always tells his friends the good which he does, of course
in the strictest confidence, and these letters are afterwards
published. Notwithstanding all this, he is a man
of much understanding and talent, being strikingly like
the Parisian writers of the eighteenth century: whole
227phrases in him are quite French, as the late Mr. Spalding
has rightly observed. He is therefore hardly to be
translated into German; but he may be rendered most
beautifully into French. One may see from these letters,
that a sort of current coin of intellect had then
come into use; and this was indeed a matter of course
in a time which had been preceded by a host of eminent
men: a great many thoughts had become common property,
so as to belong to the whole generation, and a
chord which had once been struck by a man like Tacitus,
could not but vibrate for a long time. Moreover,
it was an age of comfort and of cheerfulness after long
depression. Every thing in it had thus been brought
to a level of mediocrity, and the self-same persons,
under different circumstances, would in all likelihood
have been very little indeed. We may judge of them in
some measure from Florus, who lived in the reign of
Trajan. The earlier history was already so far behind
them, that people only wanted to have a general notion
of it. The book is quite a book of the time; insufferably
frivolous, and displaying a shocking want of taste,
and an utter ignorance of the actual state of things.
Before Trajan’s time, Greek literature had long been
dead; in the reign of Augustus, Dionysius of Halicarnassus
was accomplished as a critic and as an historian;
in that of Tiberius, Strabo was eminent for his practical
turn for history. Yet these stand quite alone.
Under Domitian, Greek literature began to be restored
by the schools of the rhetoricians, who assume quite a
different character. Dio Chrysostom of Prusa is really
an author of uncommon talent, whose speeches for the
most part painfully impress us by the triflingness of the
matter of which they treat: everywhere we find in him
an excellence of language, a pure, though acquired Atticism,
over which he has a wonderful mastery. There
is not a more amiable mind than his: he is not vain,
like a rhetorician, and yet he is conscious of his powers.
He was an unaffected Platonist whose whole soul was
228in Athens: by-gone Athens was all the world to him,
and for it he forgets Rome and its rulers.
He is succeeded by Plutarch of Chæronea, whose amiability
every one must know and appreciate, although it
is easy enough to see his defects as an historian, and the
weakness of his eclectic philosophy. Notwithstanding
this, there is no saying how much we owe him; and it
is impossible to read him but with the highest pleasure.
His language is far less perfect than that of Dio.
By these two men, Greek literature was raised again;
and though they had no successors to equal them, yet
we may date from them a new era. The real Alexandrine
literature must be deemed to end with the death
of Eratosthenes in the reign of Ptolemy Evergetes: the
period from Aristarchus to Dio, is an intermediate one
which has no distinct character. In Rome under Augustus,
a bad Greek literature became in vogue, the
Greek “abbés” (or language-masters) having corrupted
every body’s taste, as the French did ours in the last
century: Livy stands forth like a great man in that
age. The fancy for what was Greek, even though this
had no longer a literature, spoiled Rome until the time
of Seneca: much mischief was also done by the fondness
for sophistry. Then follows Quintilian as the restorer of
pure taste in Roman literature: from him to Tacitus,
there is a new classic era. Yet this epoch did not last:
the Greek school raises its head again, and fascinates the
Romans anew. Under Hadrian, the Greek language
once more becomes prevalent, and is generally written
by all persons of education; under the Antonines, all is
hellenized.—The taste is changed; the antiquarian fondness
for the quaint and for Grecian phraseology, becomes
the ruling fashion of the day.
HADRIAN. T. ANTONINUS PIUS. M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.
229
Hadrian was married to the niece of Trajan, the daughter
of his sister Marciana; which was the cause of his
election. Even if Plotina forged the deed of Hadrian’s
adoption by Trajan, she did no harm: at all events, that
the election was not contrary to the wishes of Trajan,
everything tends to prove. Of Hadrian it was said by
those who came after him, that it was uncertain whether
he should be classed among the good princes or the
bad ones. He committed cruelties which cast a foul
stain on his memory; but, on the other hand, he did an
immense deal of good. But if we keep before us as an
excuse for these cruelties, the state of mind into which
he was thrown by his last illness, there is scarcely any
other reign which was so beneficial to the Roman world
as his. No prince before him had looked upon himself
as the emperor of the whole Roman empire, but as the
sovereign of Rome, or at most of Italy: in the provinces,
the care of the Cæsars extended only to military affairs.
This was in some measure the case even under Trajan.
Hadrian had properly speaking no war, or at most
petty wars on the frontiers: there were also some disturbances
from the Moors; but these were soon quelled.
For the sake of preserving peace, he first of the
Roman emperors gave subsidies to the border nations.
Of Trajan’s conquests, he only kept Dacia; those which
had been gained from the Parthians, he abandoned.
The twenty-two years of his reign were free from any
calamity worth mentioning. One of his first acts was
to remit 900,000,000 sesterces (45,000,000 dollars) of
arrears of taxes; whether this was to his subjects directly,
or to the publicans, has not been made out.
Much remains to be done for the history of the Roman
financial system; for that of the land-tax, Savigny has
done a great deal, and done it well.
230Hadrian extended his benefits over all the countries
of the Roman empire: he travelled over the provinces,
from the cataracts of Egypt to the Scottish borders.
There is not, perhaps, a province which he did not
visit.
The outbreak of the Jews in Cyprus and Cyrene,
where great numbers of them were settled, was a very
fierce one. They had made an attempt before; but now
the struggle was carried on with unbridled fury by
Barkochba: the Jews fought with the greatest courage,
though it was only for vengeance, as they knew all the
while that they should perish at last. All that remained
of that hapless nation in Palestine was extirpated, with
the exception of the Samaritans, and Jerusalem was rebuilt
as a military colony under the name of Ælia Capitolina,
a name which, remarkably enough, has been
kept up to this day: the Arab writers do not call the
place Jerusalem, but either the Holy City or Ilia. No
Jew was allowed to come near it, not even so much as
to get a sight of Mount Moriah.
Whilst travelling through the provinces, Hadrian
built everywhere great works. In Britain he erected
the wall against the Caledonians for the protection of
the province, which now already began to be Romanized,
though indeed the Gaelic and Cymric elements of
the population were likewise preserved. But above all,
it was on Athens, which he enthusiastically loved, as
well as on Greece in general, that he showered his benefits.
He adorned Athens with works, the like of which
had not been wrought for the city since the times of
Pericles; he finished the Olympiëum, built a theatre
and an entire new town, and even had himself invested
with the dignity of an Archon Eponymus. In the last
years of his life, he fell into a state of melancholy; and
then, on the one hand, he sought for aid to secure the
succession of the empire, and on the other, he gave way
to sudden outbursts of anger and to mistrust, and was
thus led to put many persons to death. He was an enemy
231to the Roman senate, which, however, in all likelihood
was a set of presumptuous, overbearing, disagreeable
people, who besides were enormously rich: it had
now already come to pass, that in these wealthy families
the senatorial dignity was handed down as an inheritance
from father to son. Then it was that Hadrian
first adopted a young man named Ælius Verus,
in whom, however, he was unaccountably mistaken. On
this occasion an immense congiarium was given to the
people. Most happily for Rome, this unworthy fellow
died a short time afterwards; on which Hadrian chose
T. Antoninus (Pius), whom he had already thought of
before, a grandson of Arrius Antoninus, the friend of
Nerva, and an altogether blameless man.
Among the remarkable features of Hadrian’s reign, is
the foundation of the system of Roman jurisprudence in
its later form, the drawing up of the edictum perpetuum,
and the further development of the law by means of
imperial edicts. It is a new epoch in Roman jurisprudence;
the responsa prudentum, now that they were
given in the name of the emperor, acquired a real authority.
The emperors had even since Augustus had a
sort of council of state; but Hadrian put the consistorium
Principis on a surer footing: a regularly settled
form that body never had. The præfectus prætorio
henceforth is a lawyer and not a military man, a strange
combination in the manner of the East.
The decline of literature under Hadrian becomes yet
more marked than it had been under Trajan. The inscriptions
are in a quite barbarous Latin, the grammatical
forms being utterly disregarded, and all the cases
jumbled together. I have seen at Rome an inscription
of the time of Hadrian, which is composed in a real lingua
rustica. Just so, we have in Egypt inscriptions,
which pass for Greek, but are entirely barbarous. Such
inscriptions, although still to be met with in Italy only
far and between, are yet enough to show in what a state
the population was even then, the gaps which had been
232made in it by the civil wars, having been filled up by
myriads of slaves. A jargon was formed in the altogether
desolate parts of Italy, from whence it also spread
to Rome; just what happened in the case of the Wends,
when about a hundred and fifty years ago they were
compelled to speak German. This is the lingua rustica,
or vulgaris, like that of the black slaves in the American
colonies. People of rank, no doubt, still spoke Latin;
they learned it as the English in the colonies do their
own language, after having spoken when children that
of the Creoles. I do not doubt in the least that Pliny
and Tacitus, even if they knew a lingua rustica at all,
talked to each other as they wrote. A language which
is grown poor, as ours did after the thirty years’ war,[49]
tries to recruit itself from books and from the earlier
writers. The latter were therefore read for the sake of
their language; the older the style, the more valued
was the writer. Hence indeed it was that Plautus,
Nævius, Ennius, whom people in Seneca’s time still held
in such contempt, were now read with so much favour:
the older the language, the purer it was deemed. This
fondness for them caused the most correct authors to
be neglected; as for instance, Cicero was for Cato and
Gracchus. The contempt for the older writers, certainly
lasted from Virgil to the end of the first century
of our era. In like manner, not a very long while ago
were Walther von der Vogelweide and Zacharias Theobald
extolled among us as models, the former for poetry,
the latter for historical writing. Hadrian, being himself
a lover of the antiquitas, contributed by his example
to this revival of the ancient literature; but he did
much more in favour of that of the Greeks. Greek had
no doubt also kept itself more alive: in Athens, the
people in all likelihood did not yet speak at all barbarously.
233There were very few Greek writers indeed, and
Hadrian only brought them out too much. To write
Greek poetry got into fashion more than it had ever
been, and he gave pensions for it; as for instance, to
the lyric poet Mesomedes.
The taste for archæology and old-fashioned language
called forth a writer like Gellius, from whom we may
learn much. He is somewhat later than Pliny; his book
must be dated from the reign of M. Antoninus. His
ignorance of his own age is quite inconceivable: he
knows nothing about Roman institutions, so that he
also most ludicrously misunderstands the ancients, being
one of those who, to use Goethe’s words, “see the world
but on a holiday.” Yet he has not even the least knowledge
of antiquity itself, nor any notion of the law, or
in fact of human life: thus for instance, he has no idea
of what a colony is, although there were hundreds of
them in his times. Hence his many mistakes, however
agreeable an author he may be otherwise. A man of
the same stamp is Fronto, the tutor of M. Antoninus:
it is remarkable how he makes his pupil read authors
merely for the sake of their phrases, leading him to
hunt after words, as he calls it himself. Former rhetoricians
had tried to produce an effect by a subtle combination
of thoughts; but now it was to be done by out-of-the-way
words and forms. Fronto’s hatred against
Seneca really arises from a feeling of being entirely incapable
of such refinement as his.
There were, however, some people besides, who combined
both refinement of thought and refinement of
expression. Seceding from the Roman school, they
formed the African one, to which belonged Apuleius
and Tertullian, and which lasted to the middle of the
third century, until the time of Arnobius. This African
school is most incorrectly spoken off as having had quite
a dialect of its own, the peculiarities of its diction are
all of them expressions of the most ancient Roman language,
which it collected and made use of. The same
234thing was about this time to a certain extent the case
with the Greeks; and this may then have given rise to
many a collection of glosses in Latin as well as in Greek:
the abuse of it is shown in the Lexiphanes of Lucian.
Apuleius and Tertullian, however, are men of the highest
talent: Apuleius, who writes in a remarkably lively
style, is undoubtedly to be placed among the first geniuses
of his age. His Apology, in which the quaint
expressions are not so heaped together as in the Metamorphoses,
shows with what eloquence he could speak
and write, so long as he did not strive to be over-refined.
Old words which were becoming obsolete, are here
and there to be met with even in Sallust and Tacitus,
but very sparingly and without abuse: the later writers
sow them broadcast. How the African school with all
its peculiarities arose, is perhaps more than we can now
tell; yet Carthage was in the western world so decidedly
the second city after Rome, that one may easily
understand, how in literature also it stood in marked
opposition to it: there was very much the same difference
which there is now between Paris and Geneva. In
the provincial towns, like Madaura, Hippo, and others,
Punic was still spoken; and thus it was that the change
into the Arabic became so easy in those parts. It is
very likely that the present language of Tunis is by no
means Arabic in reality, but that it still contains much
of the Punic: many Latin elements are preserved in it;
as for instance, the use of the preposition de to express
the genitive.
Greek literature kept rising: the eastern world, owing
to Hadrian’s partiality, had not only got to a far
greater height of literary wealth and originality, but also
of pride and vanity. Then arose the witty Lucian, who
indeed has been overrated for some time, but whom
we should by no means make light of. His pure
Attic style calls forth our admiration, as he certainly
spoke nothing but Syriac until he had grown up to be
a young man. On the whole, all the eastern world at
235that time went on cheerfully, whilst the West moved
sluggishly: the East had ceased to look upon itself as
subdued, since the right of Roman citizenship already
extended over millions, every emperor conferring it on
new countries. In the days of the Antonines also lived
Lucian, Galen, Pausanias (who indeed is less ingenious,
but very useful and important for us), Aristides, that
most disagreeable writer, and the whole school of Greek
rhetoricians who looked upon themselves as forming the
second grand era of eloquence. These wrote after the
ancient models, but alas! there is nothing in their
works: whenever they have something to write about,
they show no want of talent. This is also the case with
the Latin writers. Apuleius shows talent wherever he
has a subject, as in that eccentric book, the Metamorphoses,
and in his Apology; and so does Tertullian, as
for instance, when he writes against the theatre, having
a truth to deal with. On the other hand, Aristides’ declamation
on the battle of Leuctra is really insufferable.
Tertullian should be read much more generally by philologists,
and so should the Fathers on the whole; for
this we have before us the bright example of such great
men as Scaliger, Hemsterhuys, Valckenaer, and others.
We cannot thoroughly know the history of those times,
unless we study the writings of a Justin Martyr, Clement
of Alexandria, and Athenagoras.
There is no pile of building in earlier Rome more
colossal than the moles Hadriani, of which we know for
certain that the tower with all its inscriptions was still
in existence in the middle ages: Procopius tells us that
the statue of the emperor was thrown down at the siege
of Rome by the Goths. The destroyer did his worst;
but the huge masses are yet standing, so that it is now
the largest building which has been left, and even in
its shattered state it is still noble. Of Hadrian’s villa,
about two miles from Tibur, there remain to this day
immense ruins, which, notwithstanding their strange
outlines, have kept their extraordinary beauty: a great
236number of very fine statues have been dug up there.
Where the gardens were, some exotic plants have grown
wild. Of Hadrian as an author, we have nothing but a
few verses, which are found in his life by Spartianus; a
doubtful epigram on his favourite horse Borysthenes,
(as for myself, I think it to be genuine;) and some
Greek verses. He has, however, written much poetry.
He was succeeded by T. Antoninus Pius, whom he
would not have adopted, had M. Aurelius been grown
up. To this boy, Hadrian’s attention was directed even
from his early childhood: his real name was Annius
Verus; but on account of his unflinching love of truth
Hadrian called him Verissimus. But as he was well
aware that a youth of such tender years was not yet fit
for the throne; he adopted the husband of the sister of
Verus’ father, whose chief recommendation in his eyes
was this connexion. T. Antoninus Pius was married to
Galeria Faustina, the sister of Annius Verus the elder.
The Roman names are now so confused, that it is with
the greatest trouble that one is able to find one’s way
among them. T. Aurelius Antoninus came originally
from Nemausus (Nismes) in the province of Gaul, Italy
having even then almost entirely ceased to furnish princes.
His history is one of those which are least known
to us. The seventieth book of Dio Cassius was already
lost when Zonaras and Xiphilinus made their abstracts;
so that we are indeed confined to the wretchedly written
lives in the Scriptores Historiæ Augustæ. His reign
lasted more than twenty-two years. His personal character
was very good: his surname of Pius he earned by
getting divine honours granted to Hadrian when he
died, in spite of the violent irritation which was felt
against him. His reign was not as undisturbed as the
one before it had been. He had some wars on the borders,
besides which there were risings among the Britons
and the Moorish tribes of mount Atlas; moreover,
there was a rebellion of the Jews, and there were hostilities
with the Parthians. These wars were in many
237places insurrections, which more than anything proves
the oppression of the people by the governors. His
reign was disastrous, owing to awful earthquakes: the
destruction of Rhodes, Smyrna, and other Ionian towns,
mentioned by Aristides, took place at this time. If we
can venture to make conjectures from the very few memorials
which have been left to us, we may say that
Antoninus was a very well-meaning, good man, but a
commonplace person, and anything but a great prince.
He seems to have laid the foundation of that steady decline
which we see in the days of M. Antoninus.
The golden age of jurisprudence still went on in his
time. Gaius, it is certain, already wrote in the last
years of his reign; Appian, the beginning of the writings
of Galen, and Sextus Empiricus are of the same
date. The manufactures of Egypt, especially of Alexandria,
were most flourishing indeed, even under Hadrian;
above all, those of linen, cotton, and glass. Astronomy
also and mathematical geography had reached
a high standard.
He was succeeded by M. Antoninus: of the adoption
of this Marcus, there are two different accounts. The
generally received one is that T. Antoninus adopted him
together with Lucius Verus, the son of L. Verus; according
to the other, Marcus had to adopt Verus as his
son. The former of these is supported by the fact of
their being called Divi fratres; on the other hand, Verus
in a letter to Marcus, speaks of Antoninus as “pater
tuus, avus meus.” It may be that M. Antoninus
adopted Verus as his son, and afterwards gave him to his
father for adoption. The real name of the elder Verus
was Commodus and Antoninus Verus; but they changed
names, and the firstborn son of Verus was called Commodus.
If there ever was spotless virtue, it was that
of Marcus. There cannot be greater kindness, modesty,
conscientiousness, and mastery over self, than was seen
in this noble-hearted man: he certainly was the best of
his age. We may behold him from his early childhood,
238recognising him even in the wretched life which has been
written of him; moreover we have the many busts
which have been taken at the different ages of his life,
from his twelfth, sixteenth, twentieth year to his death:
there is in every one of these the same virtuous expression.
Formerly we knew him as a full-aged man from
his golden book the Meditations, in which indeed there
are things which give us pain, as we thence discover
that he was not happy; but even in his trouble we cannot
but love him for his fine soul. Particularly interesting
is the first book. Now again we see him also in
his correspondence with Fronto as a grown up youth,
in the first cheerful years of the spring tide of life, and,
as far as his nature would allow, very happy indeed.
Afterwards, we find him sorrowful and weighed down by
the burthen of his duties, of which, however, he never
would let himself neglect any: he was an excellent husband
and father, and an enthusiastic disciple of his master,
who was infinitely below him; and when his eyes had been
opened with regard to this, he yet returns to him that
he might not slight or offend him, coaxing him, and
asking his advice when he had no need for it. His
education is remarkable; the range it took was immense:
it is quite incredible what an amount of knowledge
was placed before him, and with what zeal he applied
himself to it. As his teacher of rhetoric, he had
Fronto, who, at that time, had the greatest reputation
as an advocate, and who in his own way was training
him to be a rhetorician. He had also a Greek of the
same stamp, Herodes Atticus, who was, however, much
more a man of the world than the old pedantic Fronto.
Marcus Antoninus read a vast deal of the classical literature
of the two languages; and until his twentieth
year, the whole of his attention was directed to grammar
and literature. He had a great liking for the older
writers before Cicero, preferring Plautus, Ennius, and
Nævius, to Virgil and Horace. Soon afterwards, in his
twenty-second year, he became acquainted with a man
239whom he looked upon as his true guardian angel, sent
to him by Heaven. This was Junius Rusticus, of whose
personal character we know nothing beyond what M.
Antoninus himself says of him in his first book. However
inferior Zeno may have been to Plato and Aristotle,
the Stoics were the only philosophers at that time who
were worth anything: the Platonists had sunk into
Thaumaturgi and Theurgi; the Peripatetics had fallen
to nothing; but the Stoics were ever able to rise again,
owing to their moral discipline. That really great man,
Epictetus, had already lived and taught. Arrian was
likewise a distinguished man; and in his philosophy
also, he was worthy of the better ages of Greece. Epictetus
infused a new life into the Stoic philosophy;
though indeed it was not of long duration, as the minds,
which until then had been attached to Stoicism, now
turned themselves towards Neo-Platonism and Christianity.
Stoicism opened to M. Antoninus a new world;
and it is this which gives the otherwise childish letters
of Fronto such an indescribable interest: they throw
light upon the state of mind of the youth, who cast
rhetoric aside in disgust, and sought his only happiness
in philosophy, in the insight which it opens into virtue
and eternity, and not in its dialectical juggleries. He
bore the task of government, just as religious men say
that one should take up the cross and bear it. Living
wholly for the state and the government, and unremittingly
fulfilling his duties as a general, he complains of
not being able to conceive one cheering thought. No
prince was ever so loved by his subjects, that is to say,
by one half of the world, as he was by his: the people
of Syria and Egypt are to be excepted, who indeed had
never seen him, and were little inclined to him. The
whole of the West, on the other hand, adored him: this
is shown by the countless busts which are found of him.
Men of the same age, as a mark of love, would in those
days call each other frater; younger ones would call
their elders pater; and so loveable was he, that all who
240knew him in the least placed themselves on this affectionate
footing with him. His demeanour to the senate
was just as if he looked upon it as the old senate, the
real seat of Roman sovereignty, and upon himself as a
mere magistratus.
This excellent man was very unhappy: a gloomy fatality
seemed to weigh upon him in every relation of
life. The times became very troubled. The long peace
had destroyed military discipline, and relaxed the energy
of the Roman armies; sensuality, the love of pleasure,
and sloth, had risen to a dreadful height. The
German nations, pressed upon by the Sclavonic races,
were obliged to throw themselves into the arms of the
Romans, wherever these were strong enough to protect
them; or else to invade the Roman territory, as was
done by the Marcomanni and Quadi, who now crossed
the Danube. On the other side, the Parthians in the
East burst into Armenia, which in fact owed allegiance
to both states; and when they had become masters of
it, they also marched from thence into the Roman territory,
and cut to pieces a legate with one or two legions.
This happened in the beginning of his reign.—Another
of his misfortunes was his having L. Verus for
his adopted brother, a man who wallowed in luxury and
debauchery: he was the true counterpart of Caligula
and Nero, only he could not as yet display the same
cruelty as they did, being kept under by Marcus.—Aurelius
was also unhappy in his wife Faustina, the daughter
of Antoninus; yet more than he himself was aware
of: he loved her dearly, especially as the mother of his
children; but she was by no means worthy of him. He
had perhaps the good fortune of having never been
awakened from his delusion as to her real character,
always seeing her as he wished to see her. It is also
possible that her morals may have been drawn in darker
colours than her actions would warrant; yet there cannot
be any doubt as to what her feelings were.
Against the Parthians, he sent L. Verus, that he
241might give him an opportunity of deserving well of the
empire. But Verus stayed at Antioch, and in four
campaigns he only once crossed the Euphrates. His
generals, Statius Priscus, Avidius Cassius, and Martius
Varus, carried on the war in a very brilliant manner:
they decided it in the three last campaigns, and Cassius
even conquered Seleucia. To the Parthians a peace was
granted, the conditions of which, however, are not
known to us.
When Verus returned from the East to Europe, this
part of the world, for the first time after several centuries,
was visited by the plague. The last mention of
a real plague had been in the year of the city 461; in
the year 167 after Christ, the eastern pestilence made its
appearance, spreading over Asia Minor, Greece, Italy,
Gaul, in short, over the whole of the West: perhaps
Africa alone was not reached by it. It swept away
countless victims; and there is no doubt but that the
epoch in literature and art which marks the reign of
Antoninus, is owing to this plague. A similar effect
was produced by the epidemic in the Peloponnesian
War on Athens, and by the black death in the year 1348
on Germany and Florence.
What rendered M. Aurelius’ reign most unfortunate,
besides the plague, which had been occasioned by the
Parthian war, was the war with the German nations.
Since the days of Augustus, the Germans on the borders
only had made inroads against the Romans, whose frontier
reached beyond the whole of the country south of
the Maine, even as far as the Spessart: Franconia, Swabia,
and the Palatinate on the other side,[50] were Roman;
and the Romans went from Frankfort to Ratisbon
on highways which they themselves had laid down. The
old inhabitants of these southern countries were either
wholly Gauls, or at least outnumbered by Gallic settlers:
the population, however, was but scanty. At the
242time when Tacitus wrote, there was evidently a peace,
and even much intercourse with some of the tribes, as
for instance, with the Hermunduri: during the whole
of the first century, only the Sigambri and the Bructeri
had taken a share in the risings of the nations on this
side of the Rhine, and that was in the reign of Vespasian.
This may have still been the case under Hadrian,
who already gave yearly subsidies to the peoples there.
When Pius was on the throne, a war against the Chatti
is spoken of, which on the side of the Romans was a defensive
one. It was evidently the advance of the Sclavonic
nations from the East, which set the Germans in
motion: in the reign of Marcus, they had broken up
everywhere; and while they were flying from the enemy,
they threw themselves on the Romans. Then did
the Marcomanni come forth most gallantly, though indeed
it was for the last time: they were at length either
annihilated, or they were changed into tribes of a different
name. The Marcomanni, Quadi, Chatti, and a
number of other peoples, together with the Sarmatians,
who were strangers and otherwise hostile to them, for
the first time, broke through the Roman frontier from
Dacia to Gaul, and cut their way to Rhætia and Aquileia.
Xiphilinus throws little or no light on this: with
the help of coins alone, which from the time of Hadrian
are a very good guide, something may be made out;
but even then there is great uncertainty. It is clear
that the war against the Marcomanni had two different
epochs, which were interrupted by a truce or a peace,
in which the places taken were given up: the second
war broke out in the last years of Marcus. On the magnificent
bas reliefs of the monumental column erected
to M. Aurelius, which, however, is very much damaged,
there are many representations which tell favourably
for the Romans; as for instance, barbarous princes who
made their submission to him. One cannot believe that
this was invented to flatter him, as he never would have
tolerated anything of the kind. There is no doubt but
243that the war during the last years turned out a victorious
one for the Romans; yet it was full of immense difficulties
for them. If Marcus had lived longer, he would
certainly have made Marcomannia and Sarmatia a province.
The progress of this war was interrupted by the rebellion
of Avidius Cassius. This Avidius Cassius is a
remarkable man; yet we are so much in the dark as to
these times, that we do not even know his descent. According
to some, he was a native of Cyprus or Syria;
but it is more generally thought that he was sprung
from the gens Cassia, either in the male line, or through
a woman of that house who had married into his father’s
family: the latter case was possible, even if he
was a native of the East. It is, however, somewhat
unlikely that an Asiatic should have had the chief command
of an army. So long as the Latin language was
spoken, it mattered not from what country a man came,
whether he was a Spaniard, an African, or a Roman;
but it was otherwise with the peoples of the East, who
spoke Greek: that these should have risen to the highest
offices, is not to be believed. Cassius was distinguished
as a commander. The discipline of the Roman
army had long fallen off, and the legions seem at that
time to have been recruited from the military colonies
and from the limes: this was owing to the long peace
under Hadrian, and to the unwarlike rule of the pious
Antonine. It was particularly in the East, that the legions
had degenerated. They remained stationary in
the same place; and being constantly recruited, whilst
the veterans of course were discharged, they became a
sort of resident janissaries in the border countries. This
was quite a senseless arrangement, and one cannot understand
how Trajan could have tolerated such a thing.
They should have been kept in camps; but they were most
of them quartered in the towns, as at Antioch, and elsewhere.
Syria is an exceedingly fine and lovely country,
and there they became thoroughly demoralized. Yet
244among these very legions, Cassius had at this time restored
discipline; and he had led them to victory in a
war against the Parthians who had made a most successful
attack: these last, though they likewise had degenerated,
had still an excellent cavalry. The proconsuls
in the senatorial provinces were changed; but the
legati pro Prætore in the imperial ones very often remained
the whole of their lives in the same province:
thus also Cassius remained here a very long time,
and was highly popular throughout the East, even as
far as Egypt. He was yet perhaps more so with the
people than with the army, in which, though the best
men were proud of him as a distinguished commander,
he practised a Cassian severitas. By part of his army,
and by the population, he was proclaimed emperor, as a
report is said to have got abroad that M. Aurelius was
dead. It was a misfortune for the empire that this report
was not true; for Cassius was perfectly equal to
the management of affairs, and the empire would thus
have been spared the shameful reign of Commodus.
That Cassius should have dreamt of restoring the republic,[51]
is not to be believed of so able a general; but
he meant to govern the empire according to the principles
of his predecessors. Thirty days[52] had not passed,
before Cassius was murdered by a centurion, the tidings
having come in the meanwhile that Marcus was
still alive: this murder plainly proves that part of the
army disliked the strictness of the general. The provinces
unwillingly returned to their obedience. That
Faustina had a share in the rebellion of Cassius, as a
biographer wants to make us believe, has been most
convincingly disproved by others. The letters of Faustina
and Marcus are very interesting; but one is already
shocked at their Latinity: several obsolete forms are
met with over and over again; as for instance, rebellio245instead of rebellis, like the old perduellio instead of perduellis.
There are, however, no historical sources more
wretched than the Scriptores Historiæ Augustæ. They
are without any exception altogether silly; and they
put together the most glaringly impossible things, without
being at all startled by it. To separate the several
Vitæ from one another, is quite impossible.
M. Aurelius went to the East to set all right again.
He forbore to punish the rebellious provinces, although,
the senate was very ready to do so. His mildness was
even shown towards the son of Cassius, whom he wished
to save, but who was murdered without his knowledge:
the other children he actually saved; and he would not
allow their estates to be confiscated. There are some
remarkable letters of Cassius in which he expressed his
discontent at the rule of Marcus, whom he calls dialogista.
We cannot wonder at this: it is quite possible,
that a practical man of sterling ability, like Cassius,
should have found that Marcus, notwithstanding his
private virtues, was not fit for his dignity; for although
the latter most conscientiously devoted himself to public
business, he had no heart for ruling, and was always
much more inclined towards other pursuits. There is
another passage in his letters worthy of attention, in
which it is said, that Marcus was a noble-hearted man,
but that he was not able to judge of those about him;
so that any one who gave himself out to be a philosopher,
would get hold of him, and try under this disguise
to serve his own ends. Just so was Julian likewise
taken in by any one who called himself a philosopher;
and so has been many a prince in our own times
by the Tartuffes.
Some additional light is now thrown on the state of
things under M. Aurelius by the fragments of Fronto.
These letters, however trifling their literary value may
be, are of very high historical importance. The weakness
of Marcus for many people, and above all for Faustina,
shows that he carried several of his virtues even
246to excess, more especially his virtues as a husband and
a father. Fronto lets himself be used as a tool by Faustina
to set aside the will of an old aunt, the younger
Matidia, because she had not left in it anything to the
empress. Marcus answers him in a remarkable note, in
which he thanks him. We do not know how the matter
ended; but there can be no doubt that he really set
aside the will. This weakness must also have been displayed
towards many other persons besides Faustina.
In short, the condition of the empire at home was not
good, and the disasters abroad were great: the plague
must have remained in Italy and in the West; Africa
it did not visit, as may be seen from the writings of
Tertullian. It is the same plague as that which is met
with again under Commodus; nor are there any grounds
for doubting the statement of Dio, who was a Roman
senator, that two thousand men were buried every day
at Rome. The population had in some measure recovered
its losses since the times of Augustus, under whom
it had very much dwindled, but there was now again as
awful a destruction of life.
The virtues of Marcus have certainly done much
harm: even his great favour and indulgence towards
the senate had many evil consequences; for the senate
was bad. The Emperor died on the Marcomannian frontier
in his camp, March A. D. 180, after a reign of nineteen
years, his son Commodus being at that time nineteen
years old. The only reproach ever made against
him, was that in his reign the exclusiveness of a court
began to show itself: the former emperors, down to Antoninus
Pius, had still looked upon themselves as being
only as it were the first magistrates of the state. This
did not certainly come from one like him, who valued
men according to their intrinsic worth, but from the
overbearing Faustina.
There were yet several excellent generals in the army,
such as Pescennius Niger in the East, and L. Septimius
Severus on the Illyrian frontier: in the administration,
247Helvius Pertinax was distinguished, who afterwards became
emperor. Claudius Severus also seems to have
still been alive; an excellent man he was, if we may
judge from what is told us by Marcus, on whom we may
rely in this instance, although he was elsewhere mistaken.
There still was much intellectual life and refinement
lingering in the world, especially in the East:
in Italy it was waning fast. Gellius wrote in the reign
of M. Aurelius, and indeed only after the death of Fronto,
which was brought on by the plague somewhat
about the year 169: (it is decidedly wrong to give it an
earlier date.) This book shows the grammatical and
rhetorical tendency which then prevailed: we see in a
remarkable manner how the existing institutions had
no influence whatever on him.
Had not Marcus been so weak, he would hardly have
allowed Commodus to become his successor: he must
have seen how coarse and void of all virtue the youth
was, and he should have come to the resolution of adopting
one of his leading generals. The idea of the empire’s
being an heir-loom, was scarcely yet a settled one; but
Marcus established it.
Commodus was a handsome and active young man, of
great strength and nimbleness of body; and thus he
was led to choose the roughest amusements, as archery,
fencing, and such like. At first, he checked himself,
and matters went on smoothly enough in the track of
his father; but he soon followed his own nature. It
was not long before he gave up the government to the
prefect M. Perennis, who ruled in the most oppressive
manner, quite in the Asiatic style. This ended in a sedition,
and Commodus sacrificed his minister and favourite
248to the mutineers. Soon afterwards, he was
attacked by an assassin, whom his sister Lucilla is said
to have employed against him, but who told him that
he had been set on by the senate; whereupon Commodus
began to wreak his vengeance on that body. His
means of ingratiating himself had been his profuse
liberality, especially to the plebs urbana and the soldiers:
this, as we see from the coins, was very often repeated,
and thus the treasures of the empire were completely
drained. At the death of Pius, there were 2,700 million
of sesterces (135,000,000 dollars of our [Prussian]
money) in the treasury; but this had been spent in the
wars of Marcus, who had even sold the valuable things
in his palace, so that he should not be obliged to lay on
new taxes. Commodus now also began to shed blood,
that he might have more money to throw away. His
reign is detestable, and it is impossible to dwell on it.
After Perennis was sacrificed, our interest is excited by
the similar fate of Cleander, a freedman: it does not,
however, seem quite credible, that he was præfectus prætorio.
The cavalry of the prætorians and the cohortes
urbanæ had now already begun to have brawls with each
other; which proves in what a distracted state things
then were. The city cohorts, which took the part of
the town against the prætorians, had the best of it;
and Commodus would have been murdered at Lanuvium,[53]
whither he had retired on account of the plague,
had not his sister Fadilla and his concubine Marcia,
pointed out to him the danger in which he was. He
only escaped by sacrificing Cleander.
His tastes were now no longer confined to the sports
of the chase; but it was the pride of his later years to
come forth as a gladiator, and he called himself Hercules.
His head which he put on the colossal statue of
the god of the Sun, is undoubtedly still preserved, and
it is very beautiful. His mad decrees are the dreams
249of a tyrant. When he wanted, on the Calends of January,
to march at the head of the gladiators from the
ludus gladiatorius to the Capitol, and thus take possession
of the consulship without auspices; he was led in
his wrath to proscribe Lætus and Marcia, who had
most strongly urged him not to do so. This, however,
was betrayed to them by a dwarf; on which Marcia
gave Commodus a cup of poison, and she also sent a
strong wrestler to strangle him. The senate and people
now vented their hatred by cursing and reviling his
memory; but the prætorians grumbled, as they were
fond of him for his weakness. It was spread abroad
that he had died of apoplexy.
The præfectus prætorio Lætus now proclaimed old
Pertinax, who was already upwards of sixty, emperor.
A worthier man than he, could not have been chosen:
he had distinguished himself as a brave, although not
precisely as a great general; but it was especially for
his administrative talent and his sterling character, that
he was known and respected. He had Marcus’ virtues
without his faults, and he would therefore in time have
even excelled him as a ruler; for with all his heart and
soul he threw himself into the business of the state.
The people rejoiced at his election: but only part of the
senators did, as he was not of noble race; and the soldiers
tolerated him indeed, but they did not like him.
On the first of January 193, he entered upon the government;
before the end of March in the same year, he
was already murdered.
After his death, as the story goes, the prætorians put
up the empire to the highest bidder. This is most
likely a gross exaggeration. It was a generally received
custom for every new ruler to give the prætorians a
donativum; and as Sulpician and Didius Julianus
were trying at the same time to get the sovereignty, it
is quite natural that the largeness of the donation
turned the scales. Sulpician who was in the camp,
promised twenty thousand sesterces for every prætorian;
250but Julianus, who was at the gates of the city,
offered twenty-five thousand. The prætorians opened the
gates to the latter, and acknowledged him as emperor.
Julianus here appears still more contemptible than he
really was, as he had quite as good prospects of ascending
the throne as any one else, and he was really innocent
of the death of Commodus. He had not been a bad
governor of a province, and there is on the whole, not
much against his personal character: he was a very rich,
but at the same time, a very vain man, and he had, as a
governor, distinguished himself in his campaign against
Dalmatia. It was not with his own treasures, that he
bought the empire; but with those of the state: yet
the fierce ill-will which he thus aroused against himself,
was owing to his having so openly applied to the prætorians,
thereby letting them know the secret of their
power, and the fact that they were masters of the government.
As Dio here is mutilated, and Herodian was
a foreigner, and a frivolous writer; most of the circumstances
are to be gleaned from the Scriptores Historiæ
Augustæ, who, however, are wretched beyond all conception.
They contain, notwithstanding, many a detail
which even Gibbon has overlooked.
Even before this, Clodius Albinus, who commanded
in Britain, had been on bad terms with Commodus. The
offer which the latter had once made him of taking the
title of Cæsar, in case any accident should happen to
himself, he had declined; and, on the other hand, he
seems, even before the death of the tyrant, to have
shielded himself by means of his army against any of
his attempts. As for Pertinax, he had neither acknowledged
nor rejected him. After the death of Pertinax,
the British and Gallic legions proclaimed Albinus; the
German and Pannonian ones, Septimius Severus; and
those of the East, Pescennius Niger. The senate, on the
whole, was for Albinus; the people, and some of the senators,
for Pescennius Niger; whilst Severus had in Rome
a comparatively small number of partisans, and Julianus
251had every one against him: the senate could not abide
him, because he had made himself dependent on the
prætorians. Pescennius could not advance, as Severus
was blocking up his way. The latter acted with indefatigable
energy: three months after the death of Pertinax,
he was at Terni. No one raised his hand to uphold
Julianus, and the prætorians themselves scarcely
made an attempt to defend their own creature: for they
were now as cowardly and mutinous as the Janissaries
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries down to
the time of their destruction. The senate swore fealty
to Severus, who entered Rome with his army: the populace
was panic-struck; Julianus was put to death;
and the prætorians were disarmed, and disbanded in
disgrace. Upon this, Severus immediately turned himself
towards the East.
Septimius Severus was a most remarkable man: he
came from Leptis, an old Punic colony in which a Roman
conventus had settled. There is no doubt but that
the Septimius Severus to whom Statius addressed a
poem (the Leptitani), was an ancestor of his. He was
thoroughly Punic, and indeed his sister, when she came
to Rome, spoke nothing but broken Latin: these places
in Africa had so completely retained their foreign character,
that Punic was the prevailing language, even in
the towns: Severus, however, both in Greek and Latin
was a good writer. We have of his only one undoubted
letter, which, although he wrote it in a passion, is very
well written: he also composed memoirs, which unfortunately
have been lost.—He was then in his forty-seventh
year, and in every department, whether of administration
or of military command, he had greatly
distinguished himself. A marked feature in his character
was his leaning towards foreign religions, astrology,
and soothsaying: these things, on the whole, were now
getting more and more into vogue, thus paving the way
for the Christian religion. Many took this up as they
would any other theurgy, as the Orphic or such like;
252and therefore it also now begins to emerge from obscurity.
Severus’ reign was exceedingly favourable to
Christianity, with which his empress, Julia, a Syrian
woman, was particularly struck. Unction being at that
time often applied as a remedy, Severus also had received
it in a violent illness; and as he thought himself to
have been cured by it, he gave protection to Christianity
in the instructions issued to his lieutenants. He
was an uncommonly handsome man; his countenance
was so dignified and noble, that it prepossessed all who
beheld it. The great charge brought against him, is
that of cruelty, which showed itself after the downfall
of Albinus: forty-one senators had to atone with their
blood for their connexion with the latter, and Spartianus
also mentions women and children. This wretched writer
cannot, however, be relied on: he is so careless as
to make Caracalla the son of Severus by his first wife.
The war of Pescennius Niger is of a peculiar character.
If we call to mind how Avidius Cassius in his time
met with such favour in the East, and how widely the
eastern and western world were kept apart by difference
of language; we are led to believe that the East wished
even then to sever itself from the West. Niger had in
the days of Aurelius gained much renown as a general,
being indeed highly thought of as a strict disciplinarian.
Notwithstanding this, he was a kindhearted man, quite
different from Severus, and generally respected. Severus
crossed the Hellespont, and overcame a general of
Pescennius near Cyzicus; then he followed up his victory,
and defeated Pescennius himself at Issus, where
the latter was slain. The whole of the East submitted.
Byzantium alone stoutly held out in quite an unaccountable
manner, and was completely destroyed after a siege
of three years. Perhaps the Byzantines had so grievously
offended the emperor, that they were afraid of some
severe punishment; or, perhaps, being conscious of the
importance of the site of their city, they wanted it at
that time already to become the capital of the world.
253During this war, Severus had gained over Albinus.
The latter, a man without any sort of talent, was also
an African, but made pretensions to being sprung from
the Postumii: Severus, however, in a letter which has
been preserved by Spartianus, taxes him with having
merely assumed this name, saying that he was not even
of Italian extraction. This commander was indeed a
most insignificant person, and Severus very easily overreached
him by offering him the dignity of Cæsar: he
let himself be won over by this gross deception, and he
flattered himself with the hope that Severus, although
he had children of his own, would bequeath him the empire
after his death. When Pescennius had fallen, Severus
changed his tone; and an attempt to murder him,
either actually made or only intended, moved him to declare
war against Albinus. Britain, Gaul, and Spain,
must have been united under Albinus, who went over to
Gaul: Severus, after having narrowly escaped defeat, with
the utmost difficulty gained a victory near Lyons, where
Albinus was mortally wounded, and soon afterwards
breathed his last. This victory, Severus followed up
with the greatest cruelty. The rashness of the senators
with regard to Albinus is quite extraordinary: they
must have believed in the chances of his success, and
they had now to pay dearly for it. In Spain and Gaul
also, the men of rank who had let themselves be gained
over by Albinus, were punished with death. After this
slaughter, Severus’ reign was not only glorious and
brilliant, but also mild and gentle.
The German tribes had somehow or other been kept quiet
since the time of Marcus; but with the Parthians there
was twice war. Once the emperor led his army against
Adiabene, the country east of the Tigris, and Arabia,
which, like Osroëne, Media, and others, were distinct
vassal kingdoms under Persian supremacy: this campaign,
Severus conducted without being at war with the
Parthians themselves. The second time, however, he
directly attacked the Parthians; and then was the
254flourishing city of Ctesiphon, which the Parthians had
built over against Seleucia to humble it, taken and
sacked by Severus: it is strange that he did not make
this country a province. He made peace, and gave back
Babylon; but kept Adiabene, and more especially Mesopotamia,
subject to his supremacy: under Marcus the
Euphrates had been the boundary river. The Roman
emperors had always to wage war, owing to the very
immensity of the empire which otherwise would have
sunk into utter effeminacy. He had afterwards another
war besides in Britain, and it is surprising that he
should have thought it necessary to bring such vast
forces of imperial Rome against the weak Caledonian
barbarians on the Scottish border. In this war, he took
with him his two sons, the elder of whom, Caracalla,
was at that time twenty-two years old, while Geta was
several years younger: the former was with him as his
colleague, the other as Cæsar (he is the first who is
mentioned on inscriptions with the title of nobilissimus).
Before his death, he also raised both of them to be Augusti,
and made them heirs of the empire.
Severus had by his own power caused himself to be
adopted as the son of M. Aurelius, without meaning thereby
to deceive any one, except perhaps the lowest of the
people; it being merely a fiction by which he wanted
to designate himself as the lawful possessor of the empire,
calling himself M. Antonini filius, T. Pii nepos, and so on
as high up as Nerva: he therefore gave his eldest son, M.
Bassianus, the name of M. Antoninus. This name, or
Divus Antoninus, Imperator noster Antoninus, Antoninus
Magnus, is in the Pandects always to be understood of
this Caracalla. That last appellation is in fact so generally
bestowed on him only by the moderns: in the Scriptores
Historiæ Augustæ it is met with only once, and that in
the form Caracallus, which is a popular nickname: I am
very loth to use it. Both of the young princes were the
sons of Julia Domna, a Syrian woman whom Severus is
said to have married because she was recommended to
255him by the astrologers, as her horoscope pointed out
that she was destined to be a princess.[54] Julia was a
remarkable person: she was a woman of great cleverness,
but of very lax morals. She has, however, atoned
for her faults by her misfortunes.
It is a great pity, that we know so little about the
measures of Severus. That he made great changes, especially
in the administration of Italy, is quite evident.
It must have been he who placed correctores over each
of the regions; or it may be, one corrector over several
united regions. Probably they had the jurisdiction in
their own districts. What was the nature of the jurisdiction
in Italy after the Lex Julia, is shrouded in the
greatest darkness: something, however, must have been
done to get rid of the inconveniences which had arisen.
The whole of this matter is still to be investigated: inscriptions
and laws might indeed throw some light on
it. Yet what were the functions of these correctores on
the whole, is difficult to make out. Even as early as
under the emperors who came immediately before Hadrian,
traces are met with of commissions by virtue of
which the jurisdiction of Italy was given by districts to
people of rank. The Præfectus Urbi had even since Hadrian’s
days (though not before) a district of a hundred
Italian miles round Rome: this is, however, as yet, but
a conjecture of mine. Hadrian appointed consulars to
them in due form. Antoninus Pius also kept them up
for some time: afterwards, they were again abolished.
From the reign of Severus, we regularly meet with the
correctores in Italy.
M. ANTONINUS CARACALLA. MACRINUS. ELAGABALUS. ALEXANDER SEVERUS.
256
After the death of Septimius Severus (211), M. Bassianus,
as he is called after his maternal grandfather,—or
M. Antoninus as he is called in consequence of the
fiction of his adoption; or Caracalla, as he is called by
the moderns; had together with his brother, Geta,
taken upon himself the government; the younger, however,
being subordinate to the elder. Neither of them
was noble-hearted or praiseworthy; yet Geta excites the
greater interest of the two, because of his having become
the victim: still, it is not at all clear that he was better
than the other. It is hardly possible to form an opinion
of him. The hostility between the two brothers broke out
soon after the death of their father: their feelings towards
each other became very bad, which was chiefly owing
to the malice of the elder one, and they were already
about to divide the empire. But as this would have been
to the disadvantage of the younger, who was to have had
a far smaller empire in the East; their mother made a
last attempt to bring about a reconciliation between
them, but in vain. Caracalla seemed to listen to her proposals;
but this was only a stratagem to entice his brother
into a place where he could murder him. In the
apartments of the mother, the reconciliation was to have
been brought about: Geta was stabbed in her arms. By
this murder, the minds of men, which even then had begun
to be quite Asiatic in feeling,—inconceivably so indeed,—were
not much affected. Even the mother, although
Geta had been her darling son, did not, after
what had happened, change in her behaviour to her
elder one; but she seemed to look upon Geta’s death as
an unavoidable dispensation of fate.
In the year 212, Caracalla gave himself up to the
most wanton cruelties and extortions: these last were
257still more systematic than those of Commodus, who
practised them in Rome only, whereas Caracalla carried
them on at the same time in the provinces. It is a
very just remark of Gibbon’s, that the tyranny of the
Roman emperors weighed most heavily on Rome, and
was less felt in the rest of Italy, and least of all in the
provinces, which were sometimes worse off under the
good emperors than under the bad ones. Caracalla,
however, unfortunately for the provinces, travelled
through them, and there his savage rage was yet greater
than at Rome itself; he brought with him fell bloodshed
into those hapless countries,—into Greece, Asia Minor,
Syria, and Egypt,—and drove the inhabitants to despair:
the only thing that he cared for, was to satisfy his
soldiers. The prætorians had been re-established by Severus,
but on quite a different footing. Whereas formerly
they had been a sort of janissaries, only that they did
not leave Rome, it being even doubtful whether they
ever accompanied the emperors in their wars; Severus
now formed an entirely new guard, of three or four
times the strength of the old one, as many indeed as
thirty or forty thousand men; these he picked out from
the legions, and he gave them double pay and higher
rank. Under Severus and Caracalla they were no longer
left behind in Rome, but they accompanied the emperors
on their journeys and expeditions: thus Caracalla
took them with him to the East. The most dreadful
of Caracalla’s deeds was the massacre at Alexandria,
where he enticed the inhabitants to come out of their
city; made them feel quite secure; and then ordered
his soldiers to slaughter them all. The people of Alexandria
had provoked him, as they had done almost all
the emperors, even the best of them: Alexandria and
Antioch were the seats of wit, which spoke out in the
theatres, or was placarded in pasquinades. They had
now lashed the Roman tyrant for the murder of Geta,
and this he never forgave.
Caracalla granted the right of citizenship to all the
258subjects of the Roman empire; that is to say, the peregrinitas
was abolished throughout the whole of it: thus
the vicesima hereditatum, which had until then been
raised from Roman citizens, was made general, and he
moreover raised it into a decima. Yet the Latini still
remained after this; only there was no more peregrinitas
for communities: in the case of freedmen, however,
a different law might apply. Caracalla raised the
taxes to an intolerable height, merely that he might
have the means of winning the hearts of the soldiers:
Severus had already said that the emperor who was
sure of the army had nothing to fear.
Like Commodus, Caracalla had a taste for gladiatorial
arts; but he was small in size, and not so handsome as
Commodus. He had a silly kind of fondness for Alexander
the Great; and if we may judge from the busts,
it must be acknowledged that there was some likeness
between them: the province of Macedon was, therefore,
the only one to which he did any good. He formed a
phalanx of Macedonians, and also assumed the name of
Magnus: in the law books, he is often spoken of as
Magnus Antoninus. Led by this feeling, he also went
like Alexander to the East, to overthrow the Parthian
empire; and he had his Macedonian phalanx with him.
Everywhere he showed a very strong leaning towards
anything that was Greek, a taste which may have been
very much owing to the fact of his having a Syrian
mother. The war against the Parthians he brought
on, without having real cause for it. According to
Herodian, he was guilty of an act of monstrous treachery:
he invited Artabanus to a conference, and then
tried to surprise him, and murdered a number of Parthians.
These accounts, however, are all of them very
doubtful in their details. Severus had already taken
possession of Osroëne, where the reigning dynasty had
been established for three hundred years: in the legend,
an Abgarus betakes himself to our Saviour, beseeching
him for his aid in a sickness. The king Abgarus at
259this time, was a vassal of the Parthians: Caracalla expelled
him, and converted Osroëne into a Roman province.
Whilst he was engaged here in preparations for
a war against the Parthians themselves, he was murdered,
in the year 217, at the instigation of the præfectus
prætorio M. Macrinus, who had found his own life
to be threatened. The soldiers, however, heard of the
death of their emperor with indignation, and Macrinus
had to try every means to deceive them as to his share
in it; whereupon he was proclaimed emperor.
Dio’s and Herodian’s accounts of Macrinus, which are
in his favour, may be much better relied upon than the
nonsense of the Scriptores Historiæ Augustæ. Yet if
Macrinus wished to be a praiseworthy prince, his character
as such depended upon his getting the mastery
over his soldiers: for their lawlessness had frightfully
increased under Caracalla, as he let them do what they
listed without punishing them. Macrinus, therefore,
began to reform them, introducing discipline, and trying
by degrees to lessen the concessions of Caracalla;
and thus he either disbanded whole legions as veterans,
and enlisted new ones on fairer conditions, or, which
seems to me more likely, he merely filled up the old ones
by new recruits. By this, however, he made himself
hateful to them. They would not put up with it; and
hence arose a rebellion. Hereupon young Avitus came
forth. They might, however, have found another leader,
Maximin perhaps, if Avitus had not presented himself.
Julia Domna had, after the death of her son, been
condemned to seclusion by Macrinus, and she had herself
put an end to her own life. Her sister Mæsa also
had been banished. The latter had two daughters, both
of them married in Syria: the names of the husbands
were Roman, but the children were thorough Syrians,
or Syrian-Greeks. The husband of Soæmis, the elder
sister, was Sextus Varius Marcellus: this name, and
the high offices which he held, lead to the conclusion
that he was a Roman. The husband of the younger
260sister, Mamæa, was called Gessius Macrianus. Soæmis
had a son and several daughters; Mamæa, a son and a
daughter. The son of Soæmis was Avitus, afterwards
M. Aurelius Antoninus, generally known by us as Elagabalus
(corruptly Heliogabalus, as the name has nothing
whatever to do with ἥλιος): he also bore the
name of Bassianus, as people at that time often dropped
their names, and as often took new ones. This Elagabalus
was now seventeen years of age at most, quite a
Syrian, and priest to the god Elagabalus at Emesa, where
some aerolites which had fallen in the neighbourhood
were worshipped. This young man, Mæsa and his own
mother Soæmis declared to have been the offspring of
an adulterous intercourse with Caracalla. Mæsa collected
her immense riches at Emesa, and taking advantage
of the discontent of the soldiers began to bribe
them. Very many of them espoused her cause. Macrinus
at first held this defection to be of no consequence;
but quite contrary to all expectation, the fondness
of the soldiers for Caracalla was transferred to
Elagabalus, from whom besides they looked for a new
donation. Had Macrinus now acted at once, he might
yet have had the best of it; for in the decisive battle,
the prætorians displayed greater bravery than was
thought to be in them. But he gave himself up too
soon for lost; and he fled from the fight with his son
Antoninus Diadumenianus to Asia Minor, where he was
overtaken and beheaded by the order of the young tyrant
(218).
The name of Elagabalus is branded in history: even
Caligula and Nero, when compared with him, appear in a
favourable light. Caligula was not a beast like him; Nero
undoubtedly had talents; but there is nothing whatever
to redeem the vices of Elagabalus. The infamy of his
reign is appalling. His extortions, which were spent on
the gratification of the maddest fancies, were beyond
everything; and yet the Roman world might have
deemed itself happy, if he had only extorted. There
261were fewer actual cruelties; but he was ready for any
wickedness: his only real passion, and one which ruled
him, was zeal for the glorification of his idol Elagabalus,
whom, as the god of the Sun, he wanted to place instead
of Jupiter Capitolinus on the throne of the gods in Rome,
and whom he exclusively worshipped. Even the soldiers
were so disgusted with him, as to execrate him; and
they would have murdered him as early as in 221, had
he not, by the advice of his grandmother Mæsa, adopted
as Cæsar his cousin Alexianus, who was afterwards
called Alexander Severus.
This Alexander, if Lampridius is correct, was now no
longer a child, being seventeen years old: according to
Herodian, he was but thirteen or fourteen. He was the
very reverse of his cousin: for his was a noble soul, like
that of Marcus, the only difference being that of a fine
Asiatic disposition when compared with an European
one. He was a thorough Asiatic: being born in Phœnicia,
he had first to learn Latin at Rome; so that he
was always looked upon there as a Græculus, as one who
was not a Latin. It is impossible to have a better will
and a more beautiful mind than this young man had:
the innocence which beamed forth from his countenance,
gained him even the hearts of the soldiers, who, rough
as they were, seemed to have a sincere regard for him.
When Elagabalus now tried to get rid of him, and at
the same time sought his life, a rebellion arose, owing
to a report having been spread of Alexander’s death;
and even when the mistake had been cleared up, the
riot was put down only with difficulty. But as Elagabalus,
conscious of his own worthlessness, could not disguise
from himself that Alexander was far more liked
than he was, he took steps in right earnest, to destroy
his cousin; whereupon the rebellion broke out afresh
with irresistible fury, and Elagabalus was killed (222).
His dead body was flung into the river, and his memory
cursed.
The reign of Alexander Severus lasted thirteen years,
262until 235. It is one which we are in danger of representing
in too fair a light, as it seems that several authors
have written a sort of Cyropædia on him. His
personal amiability and kindness, his zeal to do his
duty, cannot be called into doubt: his model was Marcus.
But as Marcus was weak towards Faustina, so
Alexander was still weaker towards his mother. We
read, on the one hand, that he lightened the taxes; but
on the other, exempla avaritiæ are told of Mamæa. Now,
although this avaritia may perhaps have consisted in
her hoarding treasure and jewels after the manner of
the East, the reproaches against her, and the complaints
of his weakness for her, were loud and general.
In the reign of Hadrian, we already meet with a council
of state; and though in the days of Septimius Severus
it seems to have again fallen into oblivion, we now see
it completely organized as a regular branch of the government,
a standing board which had the management
of every matter of importance: its chief minister was the
great Domitius Ulpianus. This man was perhaps a kinsman
of the emperor’s, as he was of Tyrian origin, and he
may thus have risen: he was not, however, born in Tyre,
as I have shown in another place.[55] A Syrian could not
have written as he did, nor have made himself such a
master of the science of Roman law. He might however
have been indeed related to the imperial family,
and yet have now been living at Rome for a long time.
Alexander’s rule, and his endeavours for the general
good, were thwarted by insurmountable obstacles, owing
to the power of the soldiers. These he had to bring
under control: but they were mutineers like the janissaries;
and this was now the case with the whole army,
and no longer with the prætorians alone. If we may
believe some scattered anecdotes, Alexander with all his
gentleness displayed great firmness on many occasions;
263yet he tried in vain to protect Ulpian. Papinian had
been murdered by Caracalla; Ulpian was slain by the
soldiers before the eyes of the emperor, who could hardly
succeed in bringing Epagathus, the ringleader of the
mutiny, to punishment.
Marcus had driven back the German nations; in the
reign of Commodus, peace had been made with them;
and in that of Severus, we also find nothing about German
wars; the Romans seem to have been in possession
of the limes (the palisadoed ditch). But now the Germans
began to advance; and I am inclined to believe
that the pale was broken through in the time of Alexander
Severus, as at the close of the war against them,
its seat was on the Rhine, and they must therefore have
forced the outworks. Unfortunately, we know next to
nothing of the geography of those parts: in many
places in Swabia, we meet with remains of Roman fortresses,
the names of which are quite unknown to us.
But even before this, a great revolution had called away
the emperor to the East. This was the downfall of the
Parthian dynasty, one of the unluckiest things that
could have happened to the Roman empire. The catastrophe
is easily accounted for. When a nation of shepherds
gets the rule over a cultivated region, as was often
the case in Asia, it gradually loses its bravery and sinks
down to the level of those whom it has enslaved; yet
its sway will still last for some time. Parthia was a
feudal kingdom, of which Media, Babylonia, and other
countries were fiefs with dynasties of their own. In
former times, the Parthians were very unequal enemies
to the Romans; but since the days of Marcus and Septimius
Severus, their power was broken: probably the
conquest of Ctesiphon in the year 198, had shaken the
empire so much that its subjects thought of freeing
themselves from its yoke. Our chief guide here is the
most authentic history of Agathias. The Parthians
must have utterly lost their nationality: their light
cavalry, for instance, is but very seldom spoken off in
264their later times. We generally deem the insurrection
of the Persians against the Parthians to have been like
that of the Persians under Cyrus; but there was the
same difference between the Parthians and the other
races, as there is at present between nomads and the
inhabitants of towns. The Persians who now shake
off the yoke of the Parthians, must therefore have been
chiefly the Tadjicks (inhabitants of towns) of the Iran
race, whose abodes began at the Oxus. In Cyrus’ times,
the Medes and Persians were two essentially distinct nations;
but the Medes must since then have become
quite Persians, as they had now one and the same language:
Irak Ajemi has in all likelihood still preserved
the language of the Medes. A research as to this matter,
would be exceedingly interesting. In the struggle,
the particulars of which are altogether unknown to us,
the Persians succeeded in shaking off the thraldom of
the Parthians; and these last vanish away, and we
know not what has become of them. On this, the Persian
empire came forth anew, and the old institutions
were many of them restored: the Parthians had ruled
like barbarians over a civilized nation, oppressing it,
checking the exercise of its religion, and troubling the
Persian worship of the elements by their promiscuous
idolatry. The Persians who restored the empire, were
headed by Ardaschir, son of Babek, who reckoned himself
one of the race of Sassan, which gave rise to the
silly story. The departure of the Parthians has been
commemorated by a bas relief and an inscription. Ardaschir
also restored the old fire-worship, but, to the
great deterioration of its pristine purity, with a number
of foreign rites; and therefore the Byzantines are
quite right in saying that the later worship of the Persians
was very different from the former one. The centre
of the empire also was no longer the province of Persis:
it was, on the contrary, removed from the Tigris to
Ctesiphon, although Ardaschir and others after him have
set up monuments at Persepolis. Susa had perished;
265Ecbatana was insignificant. Ardaschir, called by the
Greek Artaxerxes, now that the empire was restored,
and the nation was conscious of having achieved a great
deed, at once asserted his claims against the Romans,
whose decline could not have escaped his notice: he demanded
the cession of all the countries to the Hellespont,
because Asia belonged to the Persians, just as
Europe might to the Romans: the answer of the Romans,
of course, was war. In the issue of it, we have a
remarkable example of the little reliance which we can
place on the details of this history. Herodian’s account,—which
is borne out by its intrinsic probability,—is
that the Romans undertook the war with three armies;
the first, on the right banks of the Euphrates; the second
in Media; the third in Mesopotamia, to keep up the
connexion between the two. He also says that the first,
after a brave fight, had been obliged to retreat owing to
the difficulty of the country; that the second had been
entirely destroyed; and that the third moreover, which
the emperor himself commanded, had not achieved its
purpose. This statement is contradicted by an official
letter of the emperor to the senate, wherein he boasts
of the greatest successes over the enemy, for which the
senate awarded him the honour of a triumph. Gibbon
and Eckhel are quite of different opinions here. Eckhel
takes a very high stand among the critical historians of
our time, both for his learning and the excellence of
his judgment. His works are far from being appreciated
as they ought to be. His chronological criticisms
have done much for the history of the Roman emperors,
and there are few of the modern labourers in the field
of ancient history to whom I owe so much as to Eckhel.
Still, I am compelled to agree with Gibbon’s opinion.
Eckhel deems it impossible that the report to the senate
should have been a figment; but the vague and ambiguous
expressions of this document tell very strongly
against him: they are only meant to cover the defeat
of the emperor. Herodian lived so shortly after that
266time, and in all that he really knows, he is a writer of
so much judgment, that it would be wrong in this not
to believe him rather than the bulletin of the emperor.
As Severus returned to Rome for his triumph, he must
have concluded a peace with the Persians, in which
Rome certainly made a sacrifice: for until the time of
Gordian there is actually peace, and Maximin moreover
engaged in no undertaking on the eastern frontier.
END OF ALEXANDER SEVERUS. MAXIMIN. GORDIAN, FATHER AND SON. MAXIMUS AND BALBINUS. GORDIAN III. PHILIP. DECIUS.
Even if Severus had fought successfully, the movements
of the barbarous tribes along the northern frontier
would soon have recalled him. We know that he went
from the East to the Rhine; and there, as we are told
by Herodian, he gave the army cause for complaint,
many hardships being put upon the soldiers, who felt
that there was not a strong hand to lead them. A mutiny
broke out, which was headed by Maximin, the first
barbarian adventurer who rose to the imperial throne.
Hitherto the rulers of Rome had been only of noble
race, with the exception perhaps of Macrinus, of whom
we do not at least know it for certain. Pertinax was
not indeed of noble birth; but he had risen from dignity
to dignity, and was among the men of the highest
standing when he was proclaimed emperor. Maximin,
on the contrary, was nothing but a soldier of fortune
who had risen from the lowest ranks of society: he was
born in Thrace of barbarian parents, his mother being
an Alanian woman and his father a Goth; at least, so
we are told by the Scriptores Historiæ Augustæ. He
had enlisted as a common peasant under Septimius Severus,
and was distinguished for his gigantic frame and
his Herculean strength, to which were added all the
267qualities of a good subaltern officer. Septimius Severus
promoted him from one step to another; and under
Alexander also he got a legion to bring into order, which
had been utterly disorganized. He restored its discipline,
and yet was popular:—a man who in so demoralized
an army gains such influence, though all the while
so strict and even cruel, must needs have real talent, and
a true soldier’s nature. He did not try to make up for
the defects of his education; he was the first ruler,
who was not only without any literary acquirements
whatever, but who did not even understand Greek: for
the Thracians spoke the Wallachian language, an Italian
volgare, and Greek was only spoken in the seaports, and
in the larger inland towns, as in Adrianople. The attention
of the court was so much directed to Maximin,
that Severus even thought of marrying his own sister
to his son, an amiable and well-bred young man; only
the emperor took umbrage at the coarse manners of the
father. The life of Alexander Severus in the Scriptores
Historiæ Augustæ is a ridiculous, lying panegyric: he
certainly was an amiable, noble-hearted prince, and did
not in the least deserve his fate; yet it is not to be
overlooked that, by neglect and mismanagement, he
gave occasion for discontent. The rebellion broke out,
and Severus was murdered, A. D. 235, as was also his
mother Mamæa, who accompanied him everywhere, to
rule him everywhere.
Now again followed a terrible time. It is quite evident
that Maximin was animated by an intense revolutionary
hatred against everything distinguished as aristocratic,
just like the ruthless terrorists in France. All
persons of polite education and manners, and especially
the senators, were the objects of his passionate fury:
it is true that the senators may have been, not a venerable
body, but a most contemptible set; yet this is no
excuse for cruelty. Maximin disdained to come to
Rome; which was a happy thing, as he would have ordered
a massacre, just as Caracalla did at Alexandria.
268He waged war on the banks of the Rhine, of the Upper
and Lower Danube, and everywhere, as one may suppose,
with success: that he got permanent possession of
the country beyond the limes, is doubtful. He freed
Dacia from the inroads of the barbarians, and carried
on war against the Sarmatians, with regard to whom
it is not certain whether they dwelt on the banks of the
Lower or of the Middle Danube. But while he now was
afraid of no one, but put people to death on the first suspicion
there arose in Thysdrus, a provincial town in
Africa, an outbreak of despair: the ministers of tyranny
were murdered, and the two Gordians, father and son,
able and brave officers, of whom the father was advanced
in years, were proclaimed, either Augustus and
Cæsar, or both of them as Augusti.
The insurrection was but a shortlived one. Mauretania
had taken no share in it; and thus Capellianus,
the lieutenant of Maximin, quickly got together an
army of Moors, although, properly speaking, these may
never have been subjected to the Roman rule, which
did not extend beyond the towns on the coasts: there
was nothing, however, more easy than to make them
take up arms by holding out the hope of booty; for instance,
they had once before, in the reign of M. Antoninus,
invaded Spain. He marched on Carthage, where,
although the Gordians had made a bad use of their
time, the younger ventured to go out against him, but
was defeated with his incapable troops: they both of
them lost their lives. The fate of Carthage, as well as
the time that the insurrection lasted, is shrouded in
darkness. Eckhel has critically proved, that all these
events, down to the deaths of Maximus and Balbinus,
must be made to fall between from about the end of
March to the end of August: Gibbon’s chronology is
certainly incorrect, and it contains impossibilities. Yet
the question is still beset with great difficulties, which,
however, may be cleared up some day by coins and
monuments.
269The senate at Rome had recognised the Gordians, an
act in which we see nothing of the usual behaviour of
the cowardly, unwarlike aristocrats. It appointed
twenty commissioners to preside over the armaments;
and the prætorians were gained over, who had remained
behind at Rome, and who very likely were neglected
by Maximin: all the provinces moreover were called
upon to declare themselves against the tyrant. The
whole of Italy armed itself for a war of despair, and all
the towns were fortified, when there came the dismal
tidings of the defeat and death of the Gordians. On
this, two of the commissioners, Maximus and Balbinus,
were elected emperors; whether it was, that it was
deemed necessary to have a division of labour; or to
moderate the supreme power; or what seems to me
most likely, to unite two parties. Balbinus, if in that
time we may still draw conclusions from names, was a
man of rank, and of the house of the Cælii: his name
was D. Cælius Balbinus, and that of his colleague, M.
Clodius Pupienus Maximus.[56] Balbinus remained behind
at Rome; Maximus went to Ravenna, where he raised
an army against Maximin, with which, however, he very
wisely did not go out and face him. He ordered all the
bridges over the many rivers in Lombardy to be broken
down, and Aquileia was strongly fortified and garrisoned.
It was defended with the courage of despair, the
inhabitants being resolved upon holding out to the last;
the country far and wide was abandoned, and every soul
was in the town: Maximin, on the other hand, tried
all he could to make this base of the enemy his own;
the siege was protracted, and he was murdered here
with his innocent son by the soldiers, who were already
in want of provisions, and suffered greatly from the fevers
which had seized them in that damp country. It
is remarkable that he had a very amiable and kindhearted
270wife, and just as excellent a son, who, perhaps,
would have become one of the best emperors.
With regard to the time when Maximin fell, Tillemont’s
and Gibbon’s chronology is impossible. According
to the general account, it would seem as if
Maximin had, like Sylla, gone on for the whole of a
year with the war on the Danube, while Italy was in
rebellion: this, however, is incorrect. Maximin had
but his army for him. It is very likely that one province
after the other fell away from him, which alone
accounts for the miscarriage of his expedition: the
whole of the Roman world must at last have declared
against him. The most undeniable proof of this is to be
found in a letter of the consul Claudius Julianus to
Maximus and Balbinus, in which he expressly says
that all the soldiers had given them adoration; and this
letter was written even before the death of Maximin.
At the demand of the people, owing to the popularity
of the Gordians, a grandson—very likely by a daughter
of old Gordian—was now elected Cæsar besides the two
emperors Maximus and Balbinus. The Gordians bore the
family name of the Antonii, and were reckoned among
the genuine aristocrats: we must not, however, thence
conclude that they were related to the triumvir. Maximus
returned in triumph to Rome. He and Balbinus
were both of them praiseworthy princes: but the soldiers
were exasperated at the victory of the senators,
who annoyed them in the most senseless manner, and
they very soon murdered the emperors.
After their death the empire fell into the hands of
young Gordian only, who was now proclaimed Augustus.
How young he was, cannot be made out. We
only know this, that he had a præfectus prætorio who at
all events was no Roman, called by the Scriptores Historiæ
Augustæ, Misitheus,—quite an apocryphal name,
which Casaubon has already proved to have been an
impossible one. In Zonaras it is Timesicles, which indeed
we may well believe it to have been: there is also
271said to be a Latin inscription remaining,—it is, however,
uncertain whether it refers to him,—in which the name
is given as Timesitheus, which is the most plausible of
all. In the reign of Gordian, the northern frontiers were
disturbed; yet this does not seem to have been of any
consequence. Of far greater importance were the Persian
affairs, by which he was called to the East, where,
if we may place any trust in the coins, he defeated the
Persians and earned triumphal insignia. The war, however,
was not yet brought to an end, and he remained
still in Asia.
There he was murdered by the præfectus prætorio, M.
Julius Philippus, a native of Roman Arabia, from Bostra
in Arabia Petræa. He is called an Arabian; but he
was not a Bedouin, his native place being a colonia
Romana, so that perhaps he may have been a Syrian or
a Greek, having in all likelihood belonged to the cohort
of the Idumæi, east of the Jordan.[57] It may be that he
got on at Rome in the time of the Syrian rulers Julia
Domna and Alexander Severus. He became the murderer
of his unoffending, well-meaning, amiable young
prince, whose good luck had departed at the death of
his father-in-law Timesitheus. It was generally believed
that the latter also had owed his death to the
arts of Philip.
Philip made an honourable peace with the Persians,
for which there was need, as the storm was already
lowering heavily over Rome. He is remarkable, because
in his reign the thousandth anniversary of the
city was celebrated with great pomp; but still more
remarkable because ecclesiastical history generally assumes
him to have been a Christian. But Eckhel observes
from his coins that he could not really have been
272a Christian, as they bear too many heathen emblems
and images of gods. This is partly the case also with
Constantine, who had the god of the Sun on his coins,
and may likewise have had rather a confused sort of
faith. That there is something in the story of Philip’s
having declared himself for the Christian religion, is
proved with tolerable probability from Origen’s having
addressed letters to him. There is a tradition in church history,
that he had done public penance, and received
absolution for the murder of his prince. At any rate,
it does not follow from his deeds that he was not a Christian.
His birthplace Bostra lay in the neighbourhood
of Pella, the real centre of the Jewish-Christians, and
there, of course, the Christian religion was already
firmly established. Of great moment for Rome were
the brilliant secular games. This indeed is very heathenish;
but Philip may have been but a catechumen,
and by availing himself of a common casuistry, have
sinned during that festival in the hope of a late baptism.
The rest of his government is blameless; no
charge, in fact, is brought against him. He reigned
from 243 to 248, in which latter year several rebellions
broke out against him. The Pannonian and Mœsian
legions having proclaimed Marinus[58] emperor, and soon
afterwards murdered him, Philip sent Decius thither,
who, certainly without any shadow of truth, made himself
out to be descended from the Decii: to derive him
from these, was merely a compliment which was paid
to him. His name was Q. Messius Trajanus Decius,[59]
and he was born in Illyricum. That country was very
extensively colonized; so that he may very likely have
come from one of the Roman military colonies: the
population there had become thoroughly Roman. Decius
warned Philip not to put him in a position in
273which he might be compelled to break his faith; but
Philip insisted upon so doing. What Decius had expected,
took place: he was forced by the soldiers to accept
the throne, and to go to Italy. Even here, he is
said to have once more repeated his offer. Philip was
killed in a fight between the two armies in the neighbourhood
of Verona.
Decius is looked upon as a hero by the Scriptores Historiæ
Augustæ and by Zosimus, a zealous partisan of
paganism; but he is just as much hated by the writers
of ecclesiastical history for his cruelty to the Christians,
against whom indeed he was the first, after a long pause,
to set on foot a fierce persecution. The motive for it,
in all likelihood, was a sort of antagonism to the tendencies
of his predecessor. What Dodwell has asserted
is strictly true, that the accounts of the numbers of the
victims are exaggerated; but the persecution of Decius
was in right earnest, and it interrupted the peace which,
with the exception of some little casualties, the Christian
Church had long enjoyed. The Roman see remained
vacant for a year and a half; and Decius is represented
to have said, that he would rather allow an
emperor to be chosen by his side than a bishop. This
shows how much the Christians had already increased.
Their number was great among the middle classes at
Rome, Carthage, Alexandria, and above all, at Antioch:
in the East, they were scattered; in the West, there were
hardly any in the country, but they were in the towns,
especially in the large cities. The greater part of Gaul
knew nothing of this religion, except at Arles, Marseilles,
and some other chief towns: the acts of the
martyrs of Lyons are quite authentic. Just as little as
in Gaul, does Christianity seem to have spread in Spain;
in Africa, there was at an early period a numerous and
zealous church; in Greece proper, there were few Christians;
in the Ionian towns, on the other hand, there
were many.
STATE OF THINGS AT HOME. FINE ARTS. LITERATURE.
274
I make a pause in the middle of the third century, to
give a general view of some leading points. There is
now a circumstance which begins from this time to be
strikingly seen. Most of the sepulchral inscriptions
which we have, are from the end of the first to the middle
of the third century; and of these the great majority
are to the memory of freedmen, there being about
ten libertini to one ingenuus. The fine marble tombs
of the great families were most of them destroyed during
the middle ages, and they are now very scarce: the
stones were used for building at the time of the restoration
of the city. As the names of free men were everywhere
getting confused from the beginning of the third
century, there is indeed hardly a tomb, after the first
half of the third century, in which libertini are to be
met with. The importation of slaves must have stopped,
and therefore the custom of having households of
them must have immensely fallen off: the development
of the system of colonies must have absorbed the greater
part of them.
Moreover, at this time, the difference between imperial
and senatorial provinces is done away with. Severus
is said to have taken the provinces from the
senate, thereby paving the way for the arrangements
made by Diocletian and Constantine.
In former days, before I had mooted the subject, the
Roman literature of the first half of the third century
was thought to have been already quite barbarous,
which was indeed the case with the fine arts. Historical
plastic art, of which we have specimens in the bas reliefs
on the spiral columns, is at its height under Trajan,
and still keeps up even as late as the Antonines. Of
Antoninus Pius, I know but one historical bas relief,
which, however, is wretched: under M. Antoninus, this
275art had risen again. Architecture was already in its decline
under Hadrian, as this emperor had a corrupt taste,
being fond of mannerism and an artificial style. The
statue of M. Antoninus on horseback is a noble work:
if the horse is less to our liking, this is perhaps because
the race itself to which it belongs does not seem to us
at all beautiful; for indeed the whole is full of spirit
and life. But this is also the last masterpiece: even as
early as Trajan, art is merely historical, nor is there
any monument left in which the ideal of a grand and
creative style is to be seen. As for painting, it was
now indeed quite gone, as Petronius expressly remarks;
some works of this class, which are still to be found, are
detestably bad: its decline became complete owing to
the rise of mosaic, which now began to be employed.
Of the age of Severus and Caracalla, there are still very
fine busts; of Severus also, there are still very fine
statues; but the bas reliefs on the triumphal arch of
this emperor are already thoroughly bad: those on the
small arch which was erected by the argentarii, are
quite barbarously misdrawn, scientific skill and the eye
for proportion are lost. After the time of Caracalla, we
have not one good bust: they are all misshapen, though
some of them may indeed be likenesses. The coins also
become more and more barbarous.
The literature of the great jurists has reached its
height, and at the same time its end, in Papinian and
Ulpian, both of whom, diversis virtutibus, are of transcendent
greatness: Paullus ought never to be spoken
of in the same breath with them. They are both of
them excellent likewise with regard to language; for
although some small mistakes may be found in it here
and there, it is truly Roman. It is remarkable that
they had no successors; just as with Demosthenes oratory
is at its height, and then dies away; just as after
Thucydides, no historian of the same spirit rose up
again. A long while afterwards, there followed Hermogenianus
and others, who were mere compilers. The
276scientific arrangement of the law gave rise to the legislation
of the imperial secretaries, whose statutes, however,
are most detestably drawn up: we may indeed
thank our stars, that their verbosity is curtailed in the
code.—With regard to the belles lettres, I have shown,
and I look upon it as an established fact, that Curtius
belongs to the time of Severus and Caracalla: he is an
author who already writes quite an artificial style, an
imitation of Livy. Still later, in the reign of Alexander
Severus, perhaps even in that of Gordian, lived the most
witty, but most profligate, Petronius Arbiter, in whom
Mamæa is distinctly alluded to. The excellent Hadrian
Valesius was the first who drew attention to this: the
prelate Monsignor Stefano Gradi violently opposed him
at first; but he afterwards set an honourable example
by giving up his own opinion, and making the proof
complete. I have added some further arguments, which
both of them had overlooked, such as the passage concerning
Mamæa, and likewise an epitaph which is evidently
of the time of Severus. Petronius’ language—leaving
aside those passages in which he makes people
talk, as they really then spoke, in the lingua rustica—bears
the marks of the age of which it is the true living
expression. He is the greatest poetical genius of Rome
since the days of Augustus; but one sees how his talent
was quite confined to the romance and the poetry of
every-day life.
In the middle of the third century, Rome was in
everything already sinking into a state of barbarism:
even the characters on the inscriptions are of a barbarous
shape, and the lines are crooked and slanting.
INVASION OF THE GOTHS. DEATH OF DECIUS. GALLUS TREBONIANUS ÆMILIAN. VALERIAN. GALLIENUS. THE THIRTY TYRANTS.
277
Decius, although he may have been a very praiseworthy
prince, bears the stain of persecutions. His reign
was the era of the great break up which began with the
Germans, who for seventy years had kept tolerably quiet.
The whole of the north of Germany was now in motion,
and the Franks made their appearance on the Lower
Rhine. With regard to the origin of the Franks, on
which go much has been written, I think the opinion to
be a very likely one, that the Sigambri on the right
banks of the Rhine, and in Westphalia, called themselves
Franks, and that they formed a state of their own distinct
from that of the Saxons. The Swabians, who are
partly called Sueves, and partly Alemanni, make their
appearance on the Maine. Yet the grand break up
caused by the Goths, dates from the reign of Decius.
Over the whole subject of their migrations, hangs the
greatest uncertainty. Did they come, as the Icelandic
traditions would make us believe, from the South to the
North; or the reverse, as the traditions in Jormandes
would show? I believe that the question cannot in any
way be decided. We can only say thus much, that a
large Gothic empire existed in the beginning of the third
century, in the south-east of Europe.
The invasion of the Goths was made partly by land
through Dacia, partly in skiffs across the Black sea;
like the attacks of the Russians on Constantinople in
the tenth century. Of the detailed account of the
Athenian Dexippus, we have unfortunately nothing but
fragments in the Excerpta de Sententiis and de Legationibus,
besides a few in Syncellus. It is impossible to analyse
these invasions in detail: I should not venture to
divide them, like Gibbon, into three great expeditions.
278They overpowered the kingdom of the Bosporus, and
destroyed the towns on the northern coast of Asia Minor:
they advanced also as far as Cappadocia. Another
expedition subdued the Thracian Bosporus which since
the destruction of Byzantium lay quite open. It is a
proof of the utter lethargy of the Roman Empire, that
no attempt was made to fit out any ships of war, to destroy
the vessels of the barbarians. The most thriving
Bithynian cities, Nicomedia, Prusa, Chalcedon, and
others, were destroyed after the death of Decius, and
with far more cruelty than the Goths displayed in later
times.
We must, however, return to the history of Decius,
and go on with it. Even some time already before this,
when the Goths made their inroad across the Danube,
they were met by Decius. Dexippus wrote this history
down to the reign of Claudius Gothicus. The Goths besieged
Nicopolis; and when Decius relieved this town,
they crossed the ridges of the Hæmus, and took Philippopolis.
After they had taken it, Decius again met
them in mount Hæmus, and cut off their retreat, when
they wanted to make a treaty for a free departure, and
even to return the booty and prisoners; but Decius refused,
and whilst they were thus driven to despair, he
fared as king Frederick did at Kunersdorf. The Goths
were drawn up in three lines, two of which were already
broken; and if Decius had properly followed up his advantage,
and taken such a position that he might have
dispersed those who were already beaten, and surrounded
the rest, he might have destroyed the whole army.
But the unlucky star of Rome led him to attack the
third line, which was drawn up behind a marsh or narrow
paths and dykes, in a position where all the bravery
of the legions was in vain. He met with a defeat in which
he and his son lost their lives. This overthrow was decisive;
but the Goths likewise had suffered considerable
loss, and they were glad to conclude with Gallus
Trebonianus, who had been proclaimed emperor, a treaty
279by which he paid to them a considerable sum to be allowed
to march off free. Whether he also granted them
abodes in Dacia, is more than I will take upon myself
to decide.
Gallus went to Rome, where he took as his colleague
Hostilianus, the nephew or son of Decius, who, however,
died soon afterwards. As Gallus now reigned despised
by every one for the disgraceful peace which he had
made; Æmilianus, the governor of Illyricum, rose
against him in the East, and leading his army into Italy,
gained a victory on the borders of Umbria and the Sabine
country, in the neighbourhood of Spoletum, and
Gallus lost his life. The latter, in his turn, had an avenger
in Valerian; who had been called out of Germany
to his aid, and who came indeed too late to save, but
soon enough to avenge him: Æmilianus was deserted,
and probably murdered by his own soldiers.
Valerian now ascended the throne. Great things
were expected from him; yet his reputation was wholly
undeserved, and we behold nothing but disaster in his
reign. Decius had had the strange idea of restoring
the censorship to improve the public morals, and the
senate with one voice had named Valerian censor; but
Decius’ death happened so soon, that nothing followed
from the appointment. Valerian took for his colleague
his own son P. Licinius Gallienus, from which name we
are not to suppose that there was any relationship to the
old Licinii of the best times of the republic. Rome was
in those days already quite accustomed to the system of
having colleagues; for as the emperor was often at the
farthest end of the empire, it was necessary that some
one should carry on the government for him. From all
sides, the Franks, Alemanni, and Goths now broke in,
each nation by itself; and at the same time, the Persians
also, under king Sapor, crossed the eastern frontier.
The history of Valerian is very obscure and scanty:
whether his catastrophe took place in the year 256 or
260, cannot be made out.
280The Franks had established their kingdom on the
Lower Rhine, and they held both banks of the stream
as far up as Coblentz; the Swabians had broken through
the entrenched barrier, and taken possession of what is
now Suabia, or rather the country from the neighbourhood
of the Lahn even to Switzerland. The Juthungi,
who are mentioned in this time only, are perhaps so
called from the reigning dynasty of the Lombards, and
merely mean this people; for the names which end in
-ing and -ung, are always names of dynasties. The Goths
forced their way in swarms of boats, either by the Danube
or the Dniester, into the Roman seas, without the Romans
ever once opposing to them a fleet. These were devastations
like those of the Normans in the ninth and tenth
centuries. They plundered the whole of Achaia; they
sacked and burned Corinth, Argos, and Athens, which,
after many ages, now distinguishes itself again. A spirited
band under the strategus Dexippus, the same who
wrote this history, left the town for the mountains; and
when it had been taken, they came down from thence,
and surprised the Gothic fleet in the Piræeus, avenging
their city in a manner which does one good to hear.
Dexippus must have been an able man, although his
history is a work of bad rhetoric.
Just as unhappily, and far more disgracefully besides,
did things go on in Mesopotamia and Syria. Valerian,
who was opposed to Sapor himself, was brought into a
most disadvantageous position, where he met with the
fate of General Mack near Ulm: he capitulated and became
a prisoner, and he is said to have been very shockingly
treated. Whether Asiatic ruthlessness went to
the length of having him flayed alive, cannot be decided
by us: it was also a disputed point, even among the ancients.
The Persians now burst like a flood over Syria
and Cappadocia, and near Cæsarea they all but fell in
with the Goths: Antioch was taken and sacked. Those
who escaped from the sword, were led away into bondage,
with a barbarity like that of Soliman at the siege
281of Vienna, when two hundred thousand men lost their
life or their freedom: the city was then get fire to. The
same fate befel Cæsarea, after a noble defence. The
towns on the Persian frontier alone had preserved their
walls; but in the interior, in Greece, and in Asia Minor,
no one had ever thought of the possibility of an
enemy, and therefore the walls had been allowed to go
to ruins, or had been pulled down.
The whole of Syria was overrun and conquered,—a
few strong towns only may have held out; but in the
midst of the desert, Palmyra, unobserved by the rest of
the world, had risen by degrees into an important commercial
mart, and from this city, half Syrian and half
Arab, there had grown up a power which made head
against Sapor. Under the lead of Odenathus, who is
justly reckoned among the great men of the East, it
was able to fight for its existence, and to hold its own.
Odenathus defeated the rear of Sapor, and was not
afraid of facing him in the open field. All the Arabs
from the interior having joined him, as it seems, he is
called Princeps Saracenorum (from شرق to rise, مشرق
the East; as Yemen, the right hand, reckoning from
Mecca): the name of Saracens is to be met with long
before Mohammed. Odenathus must have got together
a great force. On the other side also of the Persian empire,
diversions must have been made of which, however,
we know nothing: for the relations of the Persians
with their eastern neighbours are altogether hidden
from us.
Valerian died in captivity. Gallienus is reproached
for having made no attempt to ransom his father; but,
ought he to have done so by giving up provinces? This
is the time of the so-called thirty tyrants, a term which
has been exploded long ago. Gallienus was a worthless
prince, living only for his lusts, and seeking to
take his ease in the midst of the most dreadful calamities.
He always remained in possession of Italy and
282of the Noric and Illyrian frontier, and, with hardly an
exception, of Greece and Africa: (for a short time only,
his authority in Ægypt was disputed). In the East,
Syria and the eastern provinces of Asia Minor remained
under the rule of Odenathus, and after his death, under
that of his great widow Zenobia: these were in some
measure acknowledged by the senate and by Gallienus,
so that the latter even had a triumph for the victories
of Odenathus. From 256, or 260, to 268, Gallienus
reigned alone; but in the meanwhile Gaul, Britain, and
Spain, even the whole of what was afterwards the Præfectura
Gallica, were torn away by Postumus, and became
a compact territory having its own princes: these
may be called emperors with as much right as Gallienus
himself, although this would be contrary to Roman orthodoxy.
Postumus was a very eminent man: he ruled
over this great empire nearly ten years, and, if we may
rely on his coins, gained a succession of brilliant victories
over the Barbarians, particularly the Alemanni, and
the Franks. The Alemanni must at that time have
undertaken a wide wasting expedition as far as Spain,
perhaps in the service of one of the then Emperors. The
real name of Postumus is M. Cassianus[60] Latinius Postumus.
He has left behind him a noble reputation; but
the misfortunes of Gaul already now begin, as is proved
by the destruction of Autun, which from that time lay
in ruins until the reign of Diocletian: Spain also was
devastated by the Barbarians. At Mentz, Ælianus[61] had
usurped the imperial title; but he was conquered by
Postumus, who in his turn lost his life when he would
not let his soldiers pillage that city. He was succeeded
by Victorinus, (his full name is M. Piavvonius Victorinus,)
a brave but profligate general, whose outrages
brought upon himself death from the hands of a deeply
283injured man. Then followed Marius, a common armourer,
and after him a great Gallic lord, C. Pesuvius
Tetricus, who was acknowledged throughout the whole
of what was afterwards called the Gallic Prefecture,
and maintained himself there until the reign of Aurelian.
Here it is plainly to be seen how the division into
prefectures was altogether founded upon circumstances,
and by no means an arbitrary one. The nation now
consists of Latinized Celts and Latinized Iberians, who
were distinguished from the Italians by very decided
peculiarities of their own.
The empire of Palmyra, as Eckhel justly remarks in
opposition to Gibbon, did not reach beyond Egypt and
the countries of the Levant: Egypt perhaps it only
comprised in the last years, under Claudius Gothicus.
From coins especially, one may learn much, although
they are often enigmatical, that is to say, they give us
enigmas to solve which but for them would have never
come to us at all. In Illyricum, Africa, Egypt, even in
peaceful Achaia, pretenders now arose, whose rule indeed
lasted but a short time, yet they most sadly distracted
the empire. The whole of the state, in fact,
now consisted of three distinct masses. In the first
place, there was the empire of Rome; secondly, there
was the West or Gallic empire; and thirdly, that of the
East. In Gaul, even very far back indeed, as early as
the days of Augustus and Tiberius, a marked spirit of
independence might have been observed, whereas Spain
was much more sincerely united to Rome: in the East,
it was quite the reverse, just as in Gaul. Treves was
even at that time the seat of government, as perhaps it
was also under Postumus and Victorinus, although they
often lived at Cologne: Neuwied is called on the inscriptions
Victoriensis, which may have some connexion
with Victorinus and his mother Victoria. The Porta
Nigra at Treves belongs to this time. It is a Roman
gate, on each side of which there are basilicas: the
whole building is of no older date. The capital of such
284an empire might well have had large structures. Taste
had already fallen to a very low ebb.
CLAUDIUS GOTHICUS. AURELIAN. TACITUS. PROBUS. CARUS.
A northern pretender, Aureolus, having marched from
Rhætia against Milan, Gallienus fell during the siege of
this town, most likely by the hands of his own men. He
was a curse to the Roman empire, and his death was its
deliverance. After him came a great man, M. Aurelius
Claudius, who received the well-earned name of Gothicus.
This emperor had to face a new invasion of the
Goths, who burst in by the Propontis, and once more
destroyed Cyzicus. These now made their appearance
in Macedon, besieged even Thessalonica, and from thence
marched into the interior of the country. There they
met with Claudius, and they wished to retreat back
again to the Danube; but Claudius defeated them near
Nissa, on the borders of Bulgaria and Servia, in a great
battle in which they were all but annihilated. New
hordes, however, were always pouring in, the East and
West Goths being now joined by the Vandals; and Claudius,
while going on with the war against them, died at
Sirmium in the middle of his career, either of the plague
or of an epidemic caused by the war. The seat of the
disease seems to have been in Mœsia, where it did great
havoc, both among the Romans and among the Goths.
He was succeeded by Aurelian.
The victory of Claudius over the Goths had ensured
the safety of the Roman empire, although he still left
much undone. The empire of Palmyra evidently was
friendly, and it protected the eastern frontier: with
Tetricus, the relations were at least perfectly peaceful.
Claudius himself had recommended Aurelian as the
ablest of his generals, and the senate and the army swore
285allegiance to him. Aurelian did great things during
the five years of his reign (until 273): he restored the
empire. One might be tempted to apply to him the
remarkable passage in Curtius;[62] but it is not to be believed
that such pure Latin should have still been written
in his reign. Gibbon must have thought this less
unlikely, as far at least as regards the time of Gordian,
for which he decides; but the passage on Tyre,[63] to have
any meaning at all, must be referred to the times of
Septimius Severus and Caracalla. Although Aurelian
is no ideal of a character, yet there is much in his reign
which gives one pleasure, like every age in which anything
that has fallen into ruin has been restored. But
unhappily there are also here no sufficient sources;
all is obscure: the imperial history, on the whole, is
much more so than that of the republic; we are much
better able to reconstruct the history of the twelfth and
thirteenth century from the chronicles. The accounts
we have of Aurelian, although they may be strung together,
form no history: the coins are far safer authorities
for this time, and with these the statements of
our wretched historians cannot be made to agree. Gibbon
has done everything that was possible, nor will his
work ever be surpassed.
Aurelian passed the five years of his reign in an activity
which beggars belief, going from one frontier to
another, and from war to war. At first, he wisely made
peace with the Goths, to whom he gave up the claims
of Rome on Dacia. This country may have been in a
condition like that of Gaul in the fifth century. The
Romans may have kept their ground only in the impassable
places of Transylvania, which he now evacuated,
there being no hope left of driving back the Goths
who had made inroads almost everywhere. The population
of Dacia had been so much weakened by the
286wars, that the country could not be kept: those who
wished to leave it, now settled in Bulgaria which thereby
gained strength.—The war against the great Zenobia,
who was already dreaming of nothing less than an
Asiatic empire, was decided by two battles, at Antioch
and at Emesa. As Zenobia could stand her ground
against the Persians, but not against the Roman legions,
her infantry must have been bad: it may be that she had
formed in Syria a militia which overawed the Persians,
whereas the Romans, who did not wish to give arms
into the hands of the borderers, carried on the war with
the aid of mercenaries. Zenobia’s defence of Palmyra
did not answer the expectation which was entertained
of her courage; for she fled and was taken prisoner. In
her captivity, she showed herself to be an Asiatic woman,
by sacrificing her best advisers as having beguiled
her into bad policy: among these was the ingenious
Longinus. As without doubt, even at that time, there
was in many minds the idea of a Greek Asiatic Empire,
an intellectual Greek like Longinus may indeed have
suggested such a thought to his princess. It was one
of the acts which have stained Aurelian’s purple, that
he had this distinguished man put to death; and still
worse was his giving up Palmyra to destruction on account
of a rebellion of its inhabitants.
Thus the East was again tranquillized, the peace with
the Persians being secured until the times of Carus, as
it seems, by treaties. Aurelian now returned to Europe
to reunite the West with the empire; whereupon he was
met by Tetricus, who felt that his own life was not safe
among the mutinous soldiers, and wished to get himself
out of this position: but the soldiers of Tetricus fought
with such spirit in the neighbourhood of Chalons, that
one may see how national was their cause, and how determined
was the wish for separation. It is remarkable
that the French historians have never understood
nor discerned the national development of France, which
always renewed itself from the time of Julius Cæsar;
287just as they also have ever overlooked the distinctly
marked difference between the literature of Northern
and Southern France. It cannot be accurately made
out, whether it was now, or somewhat sooner or later,
that the German tribes broke through the frontier. The
Alemanni, Lombards (Juthungi), and Vandals—the
first two at least—passed the Po and threatened Rome:
they were defeated near Fano (Fanum Fortunæ), very
nearly in the same neighbourhood where Hasdrubal fell
in the second Punic War.
Aurelian, who could not live without war, was on the
eve of renewing that against the Persians: but he was
murdered while on his march, at the crafty instigation,
it is said, of an infamous secretary whose fraud he had
found out. This story, however, is perhaps one of the
many tales which were devised to screen the guilt of the
real perpetrators: another conspiracy had already been
discovered once before. The army bewailed him, and
determined that none of the leading men who had had
a share in his murder should reap any advantage from
it. This accounts for the strange demand which the
army made to the senate, to appoint the successor of
Aurelian. The senate mistrusted this, or it was afraid
that the soldiers might repent; but the latter are said
to have so steadfastly stood by their declaration, that the
empire remained for eight months without an emperor,
nor did any one arise in the provinces.
At last,—so we are told,—Tacitus, the princeps senatus,
was elected, who was distinguished for everything that
could at all distinguish a senator,—immense fortune, of
which he made a good use; a blameless life; administrative
skill; and in his youth, military valour. On his
election, he gave the senate the promise that he would
look upon himself as its servant; whereupon the senators
already began to give themselves up to their daydreams
of freedom and power. The emperor was now
to be their first servant; all rule and might was to be
in the hands of the senate, and the republic was to be
288restored:—in a word, they expected to be like the senate
of Venice. But that dream lasted but a short time.
Tacitus went to the army in Asia Minor. The statement
of his advanced age rests on the authority of the
latest Greeks, and deserves little credit: the earlier
writers say nothing about it. How they could then
have elected an old man in his seventy-sixth year, is
scarcely to be understood, as they needed a military
prince. This reminds us of the Roman Cardinals, who
elect an aged Pope to have so much more the hope of
succeeding him themselves. Although Tacitus carried
on the war against the Alans with success, the Romans
were not yet rid of their causes for uneasiness in that
quarter. When he died at Tarsus, in all likelihood it
was quietly in his bed, of illness or exhaustion: murder
seems not to be thought of. After his death, the
throne was usurped by his brother Quintilius,[64] to whom
however the legions refused obedience.
They proclaimed Probus emperor, who is the most
excellent of the Cæsars of that age. Quite as great a
general as Aurelian, he still at the same time turned
his mind to the protection of the empire against foreign
foes, and to raising it at home from the wretched condition
into which it had fallen. He had many rebellions
to put down, but he had especially to wage war against
the Alans, the Franks, the Alemanni, and the Sarmatians.
The Franks he drove back into the marshes of the Netherlands;
and he not only defeated the Alemanni, but
he also crossed the Rhine, and regained the Suabian empire:
he is likewise said to have repaired the limes. We
are told that he wanted to form Germany into a province,
which at that time was much more feasible than
it had been before: for the southern Germans had already
become much nearer to the Romans in their manners.
Had Diocletian given himself the same trouble,
and established a Roman power in the south of Germany,
289he might perhaps have succeeded.—It would
have been possible to collect the Germans into towns,
and to accustom them to a regular city life, for in the
reign of Valentinian, we find them afterwards on the
banks of the Neckar already settled in larger villages
and in fortified towns, and no longer in scattered cottages.
Probus achieved an incredible number of great
undertakings in every quarter, crossing the empire from
one frontier to the other with the power and speed of
lightning: rest, during the five years of his reign, he
never once enjoyed; but, on the other hand, he was unspeakably
beloved by his people. Once also he triumphed
in Rome, as Aurelian had likewise done: yet his coins
not only bear the legend, Invicto Imperatori Probo, but
also Bono Imperatori Probo. The soldiers only became
estranged from him, because he made their work too
hard, as he exacted from them, besides all their military
duty, task-service for the restoration of the provinces.
Like Aurelian and Decius, he came from the neighbourhood
of the Limes Illyricus, being perhaps descended
from military settlers; and therefore he wished to revive
tillage in the neighbourhood of Sermium, and to
drain the fens. To this unwholesome labour he kept
the soldiers, employing them in digging the drains. As
he did not yield to any representations made to him,
the soldiers can scarcely be blamed when in their despair
they would bear the heavy yoke no longer. He
was murdered in the year 282; yet they still wept over
his loss.
After his death, they raised the præfectus prætorio
Carus to the throne. Whether Carus was born at Rome,
or in Illyricum, or at Narbonne, we do not know: in a
letter which is still extant, he calls himself a Roman
senator,—a proof that the senatus consultum in the reign
of Gallienus, that no senator should be a general, must
have been something different from what is generally
believed, and even Gibbon thinks it to have been. Perhaps
Gallienus only took away from the senators the
290government of the provinces with the imperium, so that
this was put an end to altogether, except in the short
time of the reign of Tacitus; but even then, he did not
shut them out from every kind of military command. As
Carus also was quite in his element when there was a
war, he led his soldiers against the Persians with the
most signal success; and this was the last war but one
in which this was the case: he is said to have retaken
Ctesiphon; but this cannot be positively asserted. However
this may be, Persia had lost the power which she
had in the days of Ardaschir; and the Persian king Bahram,
who was paralysed by fear, was quite unable to
make head against the Roman army. Carus penetrated
very far beyond the Persian frontier. Here he is said
to have been struck by lightning in his tent:—whether
this be true, or whether he did not rather fall by the
hands of assassins, we cannot make out for certain. The
soldiers, however, could not be got to advance any
further: the omen of the prætorium struck by lightning
was too dreadful. Numerian the son of Carus, a well
educated and well-bred young man, good-hearted but
unwarlike, was in the camp; the other one, Carinus,
had remained in Rome: the latter was another Commodus,
being a profligate and a tyrant. Numerian died,
and the præfectus prætorio, Arrius Aper, is said to have
concealed his death to found his own dominion on it.
But it was detected; and it was laid to the charge of
Aper by the Illyrian Diocletian, who was backed by the
favour of the army. Being the most distinguished of
the generals, he put forth claims to the throne: as for
Carinus, he had made himself so hateful by his profligacy,
that the army would not hear of him. Diocletian
stabbed Aper with his own hands. A female soothsayer
had told him that he should ascend the throne, if he
killed an aper; and therefore in all his hunts, he had
tried to kill a wild boar. The oracle now came true.
Carinus gathered together the legions of the west, and
great battle in Mœsia decided the fate of the throne.
291For when Carinus was on the point of gaining the victory,
he was stabbed by a man whom he had foully
wronged; and the soldiers now acknowledged Diocletian,
who had been all but beaten, as their emperor, 285.
DIOCLETIAN. LITERATURE AND GENERAL STATE OF THE THEN WORLD. MAXIMIAN. HIS SUCCESSORS. CONSTANTINE.
The reign of Diocletian forms a great epoch in Roman
history. He shows himself everywhere a distinguished
man: although we may censure many of his plans, yet
even to have made an attempt is a proof of that ability
which shines forth in everything that he did, and in the
whole of his reign. There now follows a time which,
when compared with the former ones, is one of recovery,
and which lasted about an hundred years, down to the
battle of Hadrianople (378). During this period, the
government is settled in one dynasty, and the establishment
of the Christian religion is greatly facilitated.
One great source of relief was, the ceasing of some years,
ever since Probus, of the frightful plague which had so
long wasted the Roman empire. It had first made its
appearance in the reign of M. Antoninus and L. Verus,
when, however, it was far from spreading over every
part of the world; even in the time of Septimius Severus,
as we know from Tertullian, it had not yet visited
Africa: about the middle of the third century, until
just before the reign of Decius, epidemics are mentioned.
The real terrible plague broke out in the days of
Decius (249), although I would not take it upon myself
to say that it did not exist previously: in the reign of
Commodus, and also of Caracalla, there was a very fierce
plague at Rome; but in that of Decius it spreads all
over the Roman empire, making dreadful ravages even
in Africa and Egypt as well. Thus it still continues.
292Claudius dies at Sirmium of the plague in 270, and in
the days of Gallienus and Valerian its fury is unabated:
as many as two thousand people are said at times
to have died at Rome in one day. Dionysius the bishop
tells us that, when the plague had left off in Alexandria,
the number of all the grown up persons from fourteen
to seventy, was not greater than what had formerly
been the number of those who were between forty and
seventy; whence it follows, that about the third part
only—not, as Gibbon states, one half of the inhabitants
had remained alive. From the beginning of this
period, date the last writings of Saint Cyprian, and his
remarkable treatise against Demetrian, in which this
great mortality is distinctly acknowledged: even at that
time, people had begun to lay this decrease of the human
race to the charge of the Christians. After the
black death, as Matteo Villani, a contemporary writer,
remarks, when people thought that they should have
everything in abundance, just the reverse took place,
namely a grievous famine, owing to there not being men
enough to till the fields. This also happened now; and
it was even yet a great deal worse, as the finest countries
were laid waste by the ravages of the barbarians.
In the same proportion as the world was made desolate,
did intellect also decay. Until the middle of the
third century, the western world was very civilized; we
still meet with distinguished poetical talent, and jurisprudence
reached its highest state of development: but
after that time, down to the days of Constantine, we already
find throughout it the most downright barbarism:
in the plastic arts, the decline begins even as early as in
the times of Septimius Severus, the busts alone being
still somewhat tolerable. As for poems, that of Nemesian
on the chase, and the eclogues of Calpurnius in the
reign of Carinus, are very characteristic of the age: it
is sheer verse-making. Prose is no longer to be met
with. There is indeed not one writer of it worth mentioning,
except Lactantius the contemporary of Constantine,
293who has made the style of Cicero quite his
own: even as Curtius is a reproduction of Livy, so is
Lactantius of Cicero. Yet the man himself is also interesting:
in his seventh book, he shows real imagination.
Before him lived Arnobius, who is instructive
and useful, his erudition being of great value to us; but
he is without originality.
In the East, a different class of writers had arisen.
Instead of people trying, as in the second and third centuries,
to reproduce the ancient Attic, the language of
Plato and Demosthenes, which Dio Chrysostom and several
others after him had done; there sprang up in the
third century, from the times of Ammonius in Syria,
the so-called New-Platonism, a system which aimed at
higher things, and from the intellect which there was
in it, was widely different from the rhetorical school before
it. But it became thoroughly unreal, inasmuch as
its votaries tampered with the hallowed mysteries of
former times, being ashamed of them in their old form,
and had foisted in what was altogether foreign to it.
Of the events which now follow, I can give you but
an outline, such as every one ought to know by heart.
Too great a stress was formerly laid on such a chronological
skeleton of history; yet it ought not to be altogether
neglected: the succession of the Roman emperors,
with the dates of their reigns, is what every one
ought to have in his memory. Diocletian had reigned
for about a year, when, without any external cause, he
took his countryman Maximian as his colleague. Of
Diocletian we have many hostile accounts; but they are
very much exaggerated, nor are they the only ones. It
is said that his father had been a slave, or at best a
freedman; by this, however, a colonus, perhaps is meant,
that is to say, a serf from the Dalmatian frontier. He
cannot himself have been a slave, as slaves were not
yet at that time received in the legions: the derivation
of his name from Doclea, a town on the Dalmatian frontier,
is a very likely one indeed. Diocletian had risen
294in the army by his own merit, a fact which sufficiently
refutes the charge of cowardice brought against him as
well as many other great generals, such as Napoleon.
Against the latter also this charge is highly unjust. He
often wanted moral courage, as, for instance, on the 19th
of Brumaire; but the courage of a general he had. He
is taxed with cowardice in cases when he did not choose
to place himself in a position in which he could neither
see nor hear, and thus neglect his duties as a general;
but in so doing he was perfectly justified. Only he
ought to have died at Waterloo: his leaving that battlefield
can never be excused.—Diocletian was, on the
whole, a mild man. On two occasions only, he laid himself
open to the charge of cruelty,—in his chastisement
of the rebels at Alexandria, and in his persecution of
the Christians, to the latter of which he was beguiled
in his old age by Galerius. Maximian, on the contrary,
was a coarse and cruel man, who murdered the Roman
nobles to get held of their treasures; or because he had
been offended; or else because their very rank annoyed
him: for the senate seems now to have become more and
more hereditary.
Diocletian, who was a man of uncommon shrewdness,
could not disguise from himself, how highly dangerous
it was to keep jarring elements together by force. He
therefore bethought himself of what would seem the
strange plan of healing the many splits between the
East and the West by a distinct government for each
under different princes, they being, however, so united
by one common centre, as still to form one whole. This
worked well so long as he reigned himself. The legislative
power, the consulship, and the high offices were to
be in common: but in both parts of the empire there
was to be a distinct Augustus; and by the side of every
Augustus a Cæsar as his coadjutor, who was to succeed
to the throne after his death. The latter clause was to
prevent the throne from being kept vacant, or being
given away by the soldiers. It would seem that the
295senior Augustus had the right of naming the Cæsars.
The Præfectura Galliarum (which consisted of Gaul,
Britain, and Spain), together with Mauretania, was to
have a Cæsar; Italy and Africa were placed under the
immediate rule of the Augustus. The countries on the
Danube, Pannonia and Mœsia (afterwards the præfectura
of Illyria), were likewise under a Cæsar: the other
Augustus had the whole of the East. All these were ingenious
combinations: but they showed by their result,
what such combinations will generally lead to.
Diocletian reigned for twenty years (from 285 to 305),
and then by his paramount influence, he got Maximian
to resign his dignity at the same time with him (May
1st, 305); so that, while he was yet living, the machine
might be set up anew. The Cæsar in the East, Galerius,
and his colleague Constantius, were both of them
Illyrians. The former was a common soldier who had
gotten the surname of Armentarius from having been a
drover; the other (to whom we do not give the name
of Chlorus, as it is only to be found in Byzantine writers,
and not even in the earlier ones, nor on coins; and
as we are not able to make out its derivation) was of
high birth, his father being a man of rank in the diocese
of Illyricum, and his mother a niece of the Emperor
Claudius Gothicus. The two were of a very different
stamp. Constantius was an accomplished and well educated
gentleman; Galerius was a rough fellow: both of
them, however, were distinguished generals, though
indeed Galerius was the bolder of the two. This division
led afterwards to that of the empire into prefectures:
not only every Augustus, but also every Cæsar
had his præfectus prætorio; whence arose the four dioceses,
each of which had a præfectus, as we see at a later
period, there being traces of it even in the times of Justinian.
Of the other measures of Diocletian, we shall
mention here but the following. He transplanted the
ceremonial of the East into his court: neither of the
two emperors, however, resided at Rome; Maximian
296lived at Milan; Diocletian, in Nicomedia. Whatever
may be said of Constantine, he was a great man: one of
the many traits which mark him as such, is his not
overlooking the situation of Byzantium. If those who
founded Chalcedon were called blind by the oracle, Diocletian
also is among the blind. In those eastern parts
therefore, in which Asiatic manners spread more and
more, Diocletian completely adopted the etiquette of
the East.
The most important events in this reign, are the revolt
of Britain under Carausius; a rising in Egypt; and
the Persian war, the most glorious for a long time which
the Romans had waged, and even the last glorious war
of all.
Carausius—the admiral of a fleet stationed at Bononia
(Boulogne) to keep in check the Franks and other
tribes in the Netherlands, who had already begun to
carry on piracy—revolted; made himself master of Britain;
and assumed the title of Augustus. After having
once been even acknowledged by Diocletian and Maximian,
he was murdered by his own soldiers: his successor
Allectus, who seized the reins of government after
him, was overpowered by Constantius.—The reduction
of Egypt was achieved by Diocletian himself: after a
long siege, Alexandria had to surrender at discretion,
and was severely punished.—Against Persia, Galerius
had the command for two campaigns; and though, at
first, he suffered a defeat, he afterwards gained a decided
victory, routing and scattering the Persians, whose
king was obliged to make peace. Armenia was recognised
as a tributary dependency of Rome; Aderbidjan,
with Tauris its capital, was given up by Persia to Armenia;
Rome likewise gained the countries south of
Lake Van as far as Mosul to the east, that is to say the
countries on the Euphrates and Tigris, even beyond the
eastern banks of the latter river. This happened A. D.
296, four years after the appointment of the Cæsares.
Time hinders me from dwelling on the persecutions of
297the Christians by Diocletian; so that I shall only remark
that Diocletian and his counsellors, going against
the stream, and quite heedless of the wants of the age
(even looking upon the matter in a worldly point of
view), sought to crush the Christian religion. This led
them to that shocking persecution, which, however,
was not so frightful as we are wont to believe it to have
been. Dodwell is right in saying that it was nothing
to what the Duke of Alva did in the Netherlands. Yet
it was after all a struggle against the tide: for whenever
a people wills a thing in good earnest, it does not
allow itself to be kept back. Annihilation or slavery
alone are able to stop its onward march.
The results of the new measures were like those which
we have seen during the last forty years in Europe,
where constitutions have been drawn up, which when
brought to bear on life and its real business, have worked
quite differently from what had been expected.
After Diocletian and Maximian’s resignation, Constantius
and Galerius succeeded as Augusti, and the places
of the Cæsars became vacant. As the Augusti were
bound to make Milan or Nicomedia their abode, Constantius
remained in Gaul, where his court was generally
at Treves. In his stead, a Cæsar was to be appointed,
who had to rule over Africa and Italy; and Galerius,
claiming the right of nomination, made choice of another
Illyrian named Severus: over the East he set his
own nephew Maximinus Daza, a common soldier, to
whom he gave the administration of Syria and Egypt,
while he himself remained in Nicomedia, and kept Illyricum,
Greece, and Asia Minor. The persecution of the
Christians went on at a fearful rate, but without any
effect; so that at last it was even obliged to slacken.
Diocletian remained quiet during all these changes;
but old Maximian did not approve of them. He returned
from Lucania to Rome, where he again came
forth as an Augustus, and got the senate to proclaim his
son Maxentius a Cæsar instead of Severus. Soon afterwards,
298Constantius died, and the legions proclaimed his
son Constantine Augustus; but Galerius, who had formerly
plotted against his life, wished to acknowledge him
as Cæsar only, and on the other hand, appointed Severus
Augustus, and set him on against Maximian and Maxentius.
But Severus died in his attempt to invade Italy,
and Constantine for the present submitted to the degradation.
Constantine was the son of Constantius’ first wife
Helena, a woman of low birth from Roussillon, whom
her husband had been obliged to put away that he might
marry Theodora, a stepdaughter of Maximian. Constantine
was thirty-two years old, when his father died.
He is a truly great man, and on him the attention of
the whole of the then Roman world was directed.
Though not an accomplished scholar, neither yet was he
an untaught barbarian, as he spoke Greek and Latin.
Whilst Constantine contented himself with establishing
his power in the three western provinces, Galerius
undertook to avenge the death of Severus on Maxentius.
He therefore came with an army to Italy, and advanced
as far as Narni; but there he found himself so closely
hemmed in by the forces of old Maximian, and so little
supported, that he had to retreat and make peace. How
it was concluded, we have in truth no account whatever.
After the death of Severus, Galerius had given
up Illyricum to Licinius, and had bestowed on him at the
same time the title of Augustus; the east he had assigned
to Maximinus Daza: he acknowledged Constantine
as Augustus. Thus the Roman world had no more
Cæsars, but six Augusti,—Galerius, Licinius, Maximin
in the east; Maximian, Maxentius, and Constantine in
the west. Notwithstanding this, there was no peace,
and the artificial combination of Diocletian proved insufficient.
Maximian had given his daughter Fausta
in marriage to Constantine, who therefore divorced himself
from his first wife Minervina. But dissensions
arose between Maximian and his son Maxentius. Maxentius,
299who was a fell tyrant in the style of Caracalla,
had no dutiful feelings towards a father who had
raised him to the throne; and he answered the claims
of his father to rule the state, by the counter demand
that he should retire from public affairs. The prætorians,
whom Maxentius had brought out again from the
obscurity into which Diocletian had thrown them, decided
that Maxentius should reign alone. Maximian
now went to his daughter in Gaul, where at first he
met with a friendly reception; but he soon got embroiled
with Constantine. When the latter tried to secure
himself against him, Maximian, who was not able to
stand his ground at Arles, fled to Marseilles, where he
was besieged, and delivered up as a victim by his own
troops. He fell into Constantine’s power, who made
him kind promises; notwithstanding which, under the
pretext of his having set on foot a conspiracy, he was
soon afterwards put to death.
Shortly after began the war of Constantine with
Maxentius, so memorable for its important consequences
in history, and not less memorable for the triumphal
arch of Constantine and Raphael’s painting of the battle.
Maxentius ruled Italy as a tyrant, and the oppression
of the people had increased. Italy had hitherto
been free from the land-tax, having only indirect taxes
and a legacy duty to pay; but Maxentius, to whom
this, and the revenues raised from Africa, did not yet
appear sufficient, proceeded to lay a land and an income
tax on Italy. Then was Constantine called upon for
help.—In the meanwhile also, Galerius had died, and
the European part of his empire had been taken by Licinius,
and the Asiatic by Maximin.—Constantine, at
the head of a greatly superior force, crossed Mount Cenis;
defeated the troops of Maxentius near Turin; marched
against Verona, a very strong fortress; besieged it
and beat an army which came to its relief; took it, and
advanced by the Via Flaminia towards Rome. Maxentius
met him three Italian miles from the Porta Collina,
300near Ponte Mollo. But his whole army was routed and
himself killed; and Constantine, amid the general exultation,
took possession of Rome.
Soon afterwards, a war broke out in the East between
Maximin and Licinius, Their forces encountered near
the Thracian Heraclea, when Licinius conquered with
a considerably weaker army: Maximin surrendered at
discretion in Tarsus, and was condemned to die. There
were now but two emperors left, Constantine in the
west, Licinius in the east. Between these two, before
long, the first war arose, A. D. 314, in which Constantine
gained the victory at the battles of Cibalis and
Mardia, and Licinius sought and obtained peace on condition
of giving up Illyricum, Macedon, and Greece; so
that he had only left to him the Asiatic countries, Egypt,
and Thrace, such a large and rich dominion, that no state
of modern Europe is to be compared to it. After nine
years (323), a new war broke out, although Licinius was
married to Constantia a half-sister of Constantine, and
had children by her. For this struggle, Licinius had
equipped a fleet, as had also Constantine: it was the
first war since the battle of Actium, in which the Roman
Emperors brought fleets into action. Constantine gained
a victory near Adrianople; and Crispus, his son by
Minervina, who commanded the fleet, decided the war
by the battle of Scutari, and forced the Hellespont.
Near Chrysopolis, he crossed over to Asia, and again beat
the enemy’s reserves: on this, Licinius fled to Cilicia.
Here he capitulated. Constantine at first promised him
his life; but he did not keep his word: nay, after some
time, he even had Licinius, the son of his own sister, a
guiltless and most hopeful boy, likewise put to death.
Here Constantine first showed signs of cruelty, from
which he had hitherto kept himself quite free.
Thus the whole world was again brought into unity.
The rest of Constantine’s reign is not very rich in remarkable
events. He carried on wars against the Goths
and Sarmatians, the latter of whom dwelt in those days
301from the Theiss to Moravia, whilst the Goths were masters
of Dacia. The Sarmatians make their appearance
as the lords of vanquished Germans; and these serfs,
when arms are put into their hands, take advantage of
the opportunity to rid themselves of the yoke. Now
were the Sarmatians obliged to apply to the Romans for
protection, and they were scattered in all directions
under the name of Limigantes: hence a Sarmatian colony
as far off as the Moselle, is mentioned by Ausonius.
Constantine undoubtedly ruled from the Roman Wall
in Scotland to the borders of Khurdistan, and to Mount
Atlas, just as Diocletian did.
The restoration of the Empire had begun under Diocletian,
and it must also have quite recovered under the
rule of Constantine and his sons. One great drawback,
however, was the very heavy weight of taxation which
Diocletian had devised and Constantine had completed,
and the system of indictions. A province was valued
in the lump, and assessed at a fixed sum, which was divided
into capita (quotas); and these capita were imposed
in an arbitrary manner, sometimes several of
them on one man, and sometimes one on several persons.
The details of this system are not yet sifted as much as
one would wish, although Savigny has written a very
fine treatise on the subject.[65] The chief revenues were
those which were derived from the land-tax, and from
personal taxes. These burthens daily became more oppressive
as the expense of the army increased, which
was more and more composed of mercenaries. It is evident
that the value of every kind of produce had now
quite fallen off, and with this the complete change of the
monetary system was connected. In the third century,
silver of a very bad standard was coined, but the currency
was not changed: the state seems to have paid in
bad silver, and to have required gold in exchange at
302the rate of good old silver. The sesterces are done away
with, and henceforth we meet with the aurei, which
were formerly mentioned only in connexion with the
pay of the soldiers, and even then but seldom. This
most wretched coinage, of which all the collections of
the kind in Europe may afford specimens,—these chiefly
belong to the times between Valerian and Probus,—gave
occasion for a great deal of counterfeit money, of
which the dies and the whole apparatus have every now
and then been found in France. The bad money also
accounts for the strange story in Aurelian’s life of an
insurrection, of which the master of the mint is said to
have been the prime mover. Aurelian, in fact, may have
tried to bring in again the good currency, whereas the
master of the mint, on his side, may have found his profit
in the bad money; just as Itzig and others did in
the Seven Years’ War. Constantine, however, made
the aureus lighter, in the ratio of 72 to 45, which, as it
was a very great relief to the rate payers and to those
who were in debt, was a very wise measure. On the
whole, there are among his laws not a few sensible and
beneficial ones. Others, on the contrary, are mischievous;
for instance, he pressed very hardly upon the
municipalities.
Historians say that in the beginning of his reign,
Constantine was optimis principibus accensendus; but
afterwards mediis, or vix mediis. Gibbon judged of him
with great fairness; otherwise, he has met with scarcely
any but fanatical admirers or detractors, and the
manner in which he was idolized by the Eastern church
is so bad, that one might easily go into the other
extreme. The war against Maxentius was a benefit,
and the subjects also of Licinius were freed by his defeat
from a very harsh master. The death of Licinius,
on the other hand, and that of Crispus, are very ugly
facts: but we ought not, after all, to be harder upon
Constantine than upon others. His motives in establishing
the Christian religion are something very strange
303indeed. The religion there was in his head, must have
been a rare jumble. On his coins, he has the Sol invictus;
he worships pagan deities, consults the haruspices,
holds heathen superstitions; and yet he shuts up
the temples and builds churches. As the president of
the Nicene council, we can only look upon him with disgust:
he was himself no Christian at all, and he would
only be baptized when in articulo mortis. He had taken
up the Christian Faith as a superstition, which he
mingled with all his other superstitions. When therefore
eastern writers speak of him as an ἰσαπόστολος, they
do not know what they are saying; and to call him even
a saint, is a profanation of the word.
In other respects, Constantine was not a bad man.
He had much about him which was like Hadrian, except
only as to learning, in which he was very deficient;
for though indeed he knew Greek very well, he was destitute
of every literary accomplishment: the increasing
irritability of the last years of his life, which betrayed
him into deeds of cruelty, he has in common
with Hadrian. Well known is the unfortunate death of
his son Crispus, whom he first banished to Pola, and
then caused to be executed: but as yet no proof has
been brought to show that he died innocent. His father
refused him the title of Augustus, and he was also the
son of a repudiated wife; so that hence may have arisen
feelings of jealousy against the children of Fausta, his
brothers, and he may thus have been drawn into a plot
against his father. Yet, even then, his death must be
deemed a shocking event. There is another story, which
is that Constantine’s wife Fausta was suffocated in a bath
by his orders. Against this, Gibbon has raised very weighty
objections, as even after Constantine’s death, Fausta
was still alive: in the accounts, she is represented as a
Phædra. In the meanwhile, Constantine had founded a
new Rome in Constantinople, of which the situation is
so fine. With his three half brothers, Constantius, Dalmatius,
and Hannibalianus, he lived in exemplary harmony.
304Hannibalianus died without issue; Dalmatius
had two sons, Hannibalianus and Dalmatius; Julius
Constantius likewise had two, Julian and Gallus: he
himself had three sons, Constantine, Constans, and Constantius.
He now, towards the end of his life, divided
the empire among these three sons and the children of
Dalmatius; and he died at Nicomedia, after having
completed his darling city of Constantinople, A. D. 337.
THE SUCCESSORS OF CONSTANTINE. JULIAN THE APOSTATE. JOVIAN. VALENTINIAN I. VALENS, GRATIAN. VALENTINIAN II. THEODOSIUS THE GREAT. MAXIMUS.
It would seem that people are wrong in thinking it
strange that Constantine should also have appointed
Dalmatius and Hannibalianus. He did it, not because
they had any claims; but without doubt that he might
be able, if any dissensions should arise between his sons,
to throw one weight more into the scale; so that his
family might, at all events be kept on the throne. His
wish to promote harmony was not, however, fulfilled.
The causes of the outbreak are by no means clear, nor
do we know how it happened that the provisions of the
will were not adhered to: the statements which have
been made about it, may have some truth in them, but
they sound rather apocryphal. Just as little can we
make out how far Constantius was guilty: heathens and
orthodox Christians unite in their hatred against him,
which is perhaps the reason why he seems to us still
blacker than he really was. In short, there broke out
a military insurrection at Constantinople; the will of
Constantine was declared to be a forgery; the brothers
of Constantine, and the two princes Dalmatius and Hannibalianus
were killed, and with them the præfectus
prætorio Ablavius, and many other followers of Constantine.
The division was now made in the manner which
305we have already seen in the times of Aurelian and Diocletian:
Constantine, the eldest brother, who was twenty-one
years of age, got the West, and had Gaul, Spain,
and Britain; Constans, who was twenty, the præfectura
Italiæ, and also Illyricum; and Constantius, who was a
youth of seventeen, the præfectura orientis. Constantius
was soon involved in a war with Sapor king of Persia,
which lasted with uninterrupted ill success from 337 to
361. Constantine and Constans likewise soon became
at feud, as the former demanded from his brother the
cession of Africa as a compensation to maintain the
balance of power, because Constans had Illyricum and
Dalmatia:—it seems that Constantine likewise had
Rhætia and Noricum. Constantine (who on coins is
called junior) burst upon the states of Constans from
the Norican frontier; but soon met with a decisive overthrow,
and lost his life. Constans now took possession
of the West, for which Constantius may have had a
slight compensation in Illyricum. Constans enjoyed his
triumph for some years, but at last had his reward. He
was a worthless prince. Of the three brothers, Constantius
seems to have been the most bearable, although he
himself also was not good for much: he was entirely
under the government of his chamberlains the eunuchs,
who, quite in the Persian fashion, held the first place
in his court. Constans was a profligate, violent man,
and thus he gave rise to much exasperation in Gaul
where he resided. In that country lived Magnentius, a
general of barbarian origin, altogether rude and illiterate,
who very likely could not even read nor write:—such
a thing would have been impossible in the second
century, and it is a proof of the utter degeneracy of the
times, that such ignorant people could become generals.
Magnentius raised a rebellion at Autun, on which Constans
fled, trying to reach the sea so as to cross over to
Africa; but before he was able to embark, he was overtaken
and slain at Illiberis (also called Helena) in Roussillon
by the horsemen of his foe. Against Magnentius,
306another general, Vetranio, arose in Illyria; but he
sought to connect himself with Constantius, and being
welcomed as a friend and enticed into a conference, he
had to lay down his diadem at the feet of his ally, who
was proclaimed emperor by the soldiers. On this occasion,
Constantius did not show himself cruel. He now
marched against Magnentius, and near Mursa (which is
now Essek in Sclavonia), he won a victory over a superior
force: in this battle, he seems to have behaved well.
Magnentius then fled to Italy: but every body there
zealously espoused the cause of Constantius, and he
afterwards lost another battle in Gaul; so that no other
choice was left him but to take away his own life.
Constantius was now sole ruler again.
In the meanwhile, the affairs of the East had got a
great deal worse. Of nine great battles in the Persian
war, eight were decidedly unfavourable to the Romans:
the night-engagement alone near Singara, was somewhat
of a success; but even then their attack upon the
camp was likewise a failure. Constantius gave his
cousin Gallus the name of Constantius, and the dignity
of Cæsar: he may even have thought of adopting the
children of his uncle, as he had not any children of his
own. Julian and Gallus, the sons of Julius Constans,
had by a lucky chance been preserved in the general
tumult after Constantine’s death, the former of these
being six, and the latter twelve years old at the time of
their father’s murder: Constantius’ having no children
had saved their lives. They were removed from the
court, and kept prisoners in a castle of the old Cappadocian
kings near Cæsarea, not being allowed to go out
of the bounds of the district; they, however, received a
careful education, for which Julian was most happily
fitted, but Gallus had no capacity whatever. In this
manner they lived, until Constantius (when he marched
against Magnentius, an affair which engaged him for
two years) sent for Gallus, and must have adopted him.
He made him Cæsar, and gave him the command of the
307East, where Sapor was carrying on the war very sluggishly,
having perhaps plenty to do on the borders of
India, and on the banks of the Oxus. Gallus made a
very bad use of his good luck: he and his wife Constantina,
the daughter of the great Constantine, were equally
savage and cruel, and the East suffered severely.
When Constantius had ended the war in the West, the
grievances of the East reached his ears. Gallus had
murdered two commissioners of the emperor, who had
been sent to watch him: this deserved to be punished.
He was summoned to Constantinople without his having
any the least foreboding of what awaited him; in
Thrace, he was separated from his legions, which in the
meanwhile were made to take the oaths to Constantius;
then he was arrested, and brought to trial, and, as he
was not able to clear himself, executed at Pola, where
Crispus also had been put to death.
The emperor now sent (A. D. 355) for Julian, who by
the Christian writers is called Apostata, παραβάτης,
while the few pagan ones of later times, Eunapius, Zosimus,
and Libanius, speak of him with enthusiastic
epithets, and cannot exalt him too highly: he was twenty-four
years of age. Constantius proclaimed him emperor,
on which he went to court with a trembling
heart, expecting to meet there with his death; but he
found a friendly reception, and even a protectress in the
empress Eusebia. He was married to the princess Helena,
who in all likelihood was much older than himself.
He had some time before that been set free from captivity,
and allowed to reside in Ionia and at Athens, for
which last place his heart yearned. He was a true
Greek, having always lived in Hellenized countries.
Greek was his mother tongue: he thought and felt like
a Greek, Latin being to him as a foreign language.
Constantius bestowed on him the command of Gaul, the
whole of which land he himself, for the sake of making
a diversion in his war against Magnentius, had brought
into a wretched plight by abandoning it to the Alemanni
308and the Franks. Of this they had made a fearful
use: Cologne, Mentz, Treves, Tongres, all the towns in
Roman Germany were sacked and burned to ashes; the
whole country was thrown into a state of desolation
from which it did not recover. The Franks were already
settled in northern Brabant, and the Alemanni on both
banks of the Rhine; the Roman limes was lost altogether.
Julian, although the forces which he had were
most ill-fitted to free Gaul from these enemies, fulfilled
his task very well: the Roman discipline was very much
fallen off, so that the soldiers looked upon their antagonists
as one would upon a superior foe; and besides
this, the intrigues at court, perhaps without any fault
of Constantius, were busily employed in foiling Julian’s
undertaking. In five campaigns, he marched as Cæsar
against the Germans, and won brilliant victories
over the Franks and the Alemanni; but though he more
than once crossed the Rhine, he never penetrated far
into Germany. At the end of his warfare, he had regained
possession of the limes from Helvetia to the
Lower Rhine: yet he was obliged to leave the Franks in
Belgium, though indeed they acknowledged the supremacy
of Rome, and furnished troops for which she paid
money. After these splendid successes, when he had
gotten the love of the soldiers and the provincials, the
intrigues at court revived: they wanted to take away
from him the most considerable part of his army; his
soldiers were to leave him, and to set out for the East.
But as these had become quite domesticated in the province,
being bound to it by family ties, inasmuch as on
the whole they had been changed about but little; they
were filled with despair when they were told to march,
and—so say Julian and his partisans—giving loose to
their ill humour, they renounced Constantius and had
proclaimed Julian emperor. Now it is indeed possible
that the agitation originated with the soldiers; at least,
there is nothing said anywhere to the contrary: but, for
all that, I cannot believe that he was so amazingly conscientious
309as he makes himself out to have been, especially
as with all his great qualities, there was a good
deal of ostentation about Julian. Certain it is that he
made overtures to Constantius, and that he wanted to
be his colleague as Augustus; but Constantius, although
he had no children of his own, was foolish enough not to
enter into them, and chose rather to embark in a civil
war, when Sapor had already taken Singara and Amida,
and was now threatening the whole of the East. Blood
would have been shed, had not his death luckily put a
stop to it. Constantius, who often kept his court at
Antioch, was on his way from thence to Constantinople,
travelling in the wake of his army, when he died in
Cilicia, whilst Julian was already approaching.
Constantius’ reign is particularly remarkable for the
Arian persecution of the Homoousians and the orthodox
party, especially of the great Bishop Athanasius.
The latter displayed in it a wonderful strength of character,
and the most striking power over the minds of a
vast population: of this one may find the details in the
ecclesiastical history of that lover of truth, the Abbé
Fleury. During his reign, likewise, was the Arian council
of Rimini held, which was directed against that of
Nice; but other councils, particularly in Julian’s days,
very soon renounced it.
Julian’s is an ever memorable name, which has sometimes
been overrated beyond measure, and on the other
hand cried down in the most unworthy manner. Distinguished
men of most opposite minds have during the
last fifty years turned their attention to him; first of
all, Gibbon, who was not, however, carried away by his
anti-christian feelings, but very readily acknowledges
his weak points; then Eckhel in his work on coins,
wherein he shows so much candour of judgment, that
I altogether refer you to him; and last of all, Neander,
whose treatise on Julian is excellent.
Julian was a man of uncommon talent: one has only
to read his writings to see this. He was truly Attic;
310since Dio Chrysostom, Greece has not had such an elegant
Attic writer: he is far superior to Libanius. That
he was a distinguished general, a humane and paternal
ruler in Gaul, is beyond all doubt: he was also great in
delaying to march against Constantius, that in the
meanwhile he might still fight against the barbarians,
so as to hinder them from breaking out. The purity of
his morals was spotless; his passions were completely
under control: his only happiness was to live entirely
in thought. Yet, leaving aside the truth of the Christian
religion, we cannot but acknowledge that the attempt
to revive Paganism was a downright absurdity.
Heathenism, as a real popular faith, had long since
been dead; its place had been taken by Neo-Platonism,
the groundwork of which indeed was Monotheism, and
which was ingeniously tricked out with a good deal of
eastern demonology and theology, with theurgy and
thaumaturgy. All the old legends of the gods had been
allegorized: people saw in Homer and the other old
writers everything but what the Greeks had seen in
them. Had the religion still lived in tradition, it would
have still been able to make a struggle, now it was impossible.
This artificial, new-fangled system, which itself
was partly borrowed from Christianity, was at most
suited for one or two Metaphysicians. Besides Julian
and his counsellors and court-philosophers, such a creed
could not have numbered five hundred or a thousand
followers: moreover there was in the provinces a crowd
of negative partisans, who only cared to oppose Christianity.
It was, therefore, in fact a counter-revolutionary
undertaking: he wished to introduce a hierarchy
into paganism, to create quite a new heathen religion
which was much nearer Gnosticism than that of the
Hellenes, to which indeed it was diametrically opposed.
As it was impossible for him to carry this through, he
was driven to use tyranny and craft; and yet he could
not succeed after all. Christianity was certainly far
311from being the faith of the majority as yet; but it had
firmly taken root.
The lines of Prudentius[66] on Julian are the best thing
which has been said of him, doing the greatest honour,
both to him who made them, and to him on whom they
were made:—
——Ductor fortissimus armis,
Conditor et legum celeberrimus, ore manuque
Consultor patriæ;——
Perfidus ille Deo, sed non et perfidus orbi.
The absurdities of Julian in the whole of this undertaking
are manifest: hence arose his follies and his tyrannical
acts, however mild he may otherwise have been.
The late Count Stolberg thought that the whole life at
the court of his uncle Constantius, which was looked
upon as Christian, was his full excuse. Julian with a
cruel sneer forbade the Christians to read the classic
authors in their schools: “Ye despise them,” said he,
“and ye will have nothing to do with the heathen gods;
well then, ye ought not to know anything of their literature
either.” In many particular cases, he showed
the greatest partiality; not only when the pagans again
took possession of the temples which had been shut up,
and of the estates which belonged to them, but also in
actual litigations. Real persecutions were out of question;
but religion was made a source of suffering.
Having already set out for the East against Constantius,
he continued his march even after his death. He
staid for a year in Antioch, where his philosophical
strictness came into conflict with the frivolity and luxury
of the people. Since the days of Hadrian it had been
the fashion to wear beards; but, as Constantine and his
sons used to shave, Julian, so long as he was at court,
was obliged to do the same: in Gaul, however, he let
his beard grow again, as it was a badge of the Greek
philosophers; and for this the people of Antioch now
312railed at him, From Libanius and John Chrysostom,
we learn that they were a thoroughly good for nothing
set, having all the vices of an overgrown city. By them
he was now received with hatred: there may have been,
ever since the time of Constantius, a hostile party to
him in the place; his simplicity, which indeed was carried
to the verge of affectation, was offensive to them.
Another thing in his way, was the Christian religion,
which, although in the East it certainly was still that
of the minority, had both life and energy, whilst the
other religions were split by dissensions. There is no
denying that Constantine’s Christianity was an abortion;
but he became a Christian, because in the empire
of Galerius and Licinius the sect of the Christians was
the most numerous: the West was attached to him,
even without it, from his father’s time. In Rome, the
fashionable world were still polytheists; but of the people
properly so called, many thousands already professed
the Christian faith. Constantine had the advantage
which the leaders of exclusive bodies always have:
hence also arose such a powerful party against Julian.
To this quarrel we owe the Misopogon, one of the prettiest
pieces which Greek literature has produced during
the period of its revival. Here, as well as in his Cæsares,
Julian shows a good deal of wit and liveliness.
He now undertook the war against Persia, which
seems to have been interrupted hitherto by other wars.
The plan was beautifully devised, only he had reckoned
a great deal too much on everything turning out well.
He intended to march with his army along the banks
of the Euphrates, where supplies could always be procured
by means of the river; then to transport his
fleet by canals into the Tigris, and thus strike a deadly
blow into the heart of the enemy: it was perhaps his
object to make Babylon a province. From Nisibis in
Mesopotamia, Procopius and Sebastian were to cross the
Tigris and join him in the plains of Armenia. Then he
made sure that the Armenians, from whom, in the last
313years of Constantine the Great (or under Constantius),
Aderbidjan had been wrested by Sapor, would advance
against Media; and no doubt he also reckoned upon the
Iberians, whom Sapor had again brought under his
rule. But in Armenia and Iberia, Julian’s religious
opinions were in his way: the Armenian princes were
Arsacidæ and Christians, and therefore hostile to the
Persians even because of their bigoted Magianism; yet
they were still more hostile to the Ἀποστάτης. They
would have been little inclined to give him help, even
if a man like Tiridates, who gained such distinction in
Galerius’ war, had been at their head; but they were
now governed by a prince of very little spirit. The Armenians
therefore kept neutral; the Iberians even showed
themselves to be the foes of the Romans. Procopius
and Sebastian met with immense difficulties in their undertaking,
and they were not the men to overcome them.
Julian marched down along the Euphrates; but he had
started on his expedition too late. For the summer is
so hot there, that he ought to have set out even in the
midst of winter, so as to reach Babylon in the real season
of spring, that is to say, in March or April; for in
the middle of April, summer begins in those countries,
and they have already got in the harvest. But he did
not set out before March, when he came down the Euphrates:
his approach struck the Persians with the utmost
dismay. After having reduced two strong towns,
he arrived before Ctesiphon, where he expected to find
Procopius and Sebastian waiting for him. Thus far, all
his operations are masterly, and they show his great
skill as a general; but he had not thought that Ctesiphon
was so strongly fortified as it really was: (its fortifications
must have been erected since the time of Carus,
as Trajan, Septimius Severus, and Carus had taken
it). He became convinced that he should not be able
to effect anything here with his army; yet this conviction
came too late. He was quite right in not attempting
to storm the place, as his soldiers wanted him to do:
314his fatal blunder was not a military one. Sapor had repeatedly
sued for peace in the most pressing manner;
but Julian wished, as it would seem, altogether to destroy
the Persian empire, so that he might no more be hindered
by a war in the East when facing his enemies in the
West and in the North. The Persian empire still continued
to be made up of vassal kingdoms, and therefore
it would certainly have been possible to dismember it.
But he ought, after all, to have contented himself with
the peace which was within his reach, and thus in all
likelihood he might have obtained the cession of Aderbijan,—perhaps
even more than that, everything indeed
but Babylon; but he was dreaming of a success, with
regard to which the scales fell from his eyes eight days
after the last ambassadors had left him. While Sapor
was arming with great energy, Julian was unable to
do anything against Ctesiphon, and the army of Procopius
did not come up: he now found himself obliged to
retreat. As it was impossible to drag the fleet up the
river, he resolved upon destroying it and leading the
army back again across the hills of Assyria. This retreat
in the hot, burning plains, surrounded by the Persian
cavalry, in the dogdays, under the sky of Babylon,
was an almost hopeless undertaking: harassed by continual
skirmishes he was obliged to leave behind every
one of the killed and wounded; all the stragglers died,
the Persians spoiling the water for them. Nevertheless
the army might have held out for five days longer,
when it would have reached the high ground where it
would have been safe; but on the 26th of July, Julian
was mortally wounded: his death caused the deepest
dejection. Whether he was killed by a traitor, or
by one of the enemy, is a question which it is quite useless
to enter into: the joy of his domestic enemies was
at least greater than that of his foreign ones. As it was
found necessary to proceed to an election at once, the
præfectus prætorio, Sallustius, unfortunately for the empire,
declared that he was too old to take upon himself
315the imperial dignity; and thus the choice fell upon Jovian.
The new emperor concluded a peace, giving up
Nisibis and the five provinces beyond the Tigris; and
at this price, Sapor granted him a free retreat and the
needful supplies for his army.
Jovian seems to have been a very commonplace kind
of man, of whom, however, on the other hand, not much
ill can be said: great merit is due to him for his edict
for absolute freedom of belief, as he himself was a Christian.
At the end of a year and a half, while following
the army into the West, he died suddenly at Ancyra.
The reports of a violent death are not to be trusted, any
more than that of his having died from having used a
pan of burning charcoal.
After his death, there was again the same difficulty
about the election of his successor. His son being an
infant, the consulship was then for the first time profaned
by a child being inscribed in the Fasti. Sallustius
again declined to be elected, and so Valentinian, an
Illyrian, who had greatly distinguished himself in the
Persian war, came to the throne (365). It is remarkable
that in all these appointments we meet no more with
any trace of donations: in the case of Probus, they had
already been lowered to a tenth (twenty aurei = 100
dollars); now in the fourth century, we no longer find
any at all. Valentinian, a few weeks after his accession,
took Valens, his brother, as his colleague: in this
he gratified the wishes of the public, who, however,
would have looked for an able man, such a one, for instance,
as Dagalaiphus. Valentinian is a remarkable
being, one of those characters of which it is difficult to
give a brief opinion. Distinguished as a general, he
raised up the state again when it was rapidly sinking;
and he won splendid trophies in a war with the Alemanni
and Franks, and also in a war with the Sarmatians.
He also kept order in his realm. Many praiseworthy
laws and decrees of his are still extant; and although
he was himself an uneducated man, he did what
316he could for science and learning: he also severely punished
tyrannical governors and reckless judges. But he
was cruel; and whenever he was offended, or suspected a
conspiracy, he gave free vent to his rage. It may therefore
be supposed that the higher classes did not feel
comfortable under his rule, whilst the common people, on
the other hand, were fond of him. His brother Valens
was not bloodthirsty, but implacable and cruel; and the
more implacable, the more cowardly he was. His government
was far from doing the good which that of
Valentinian did; besides which, he was a fanatical
Arian, and exerted all his power to crush the Homoousians
or Athanasians. For this reason, the memory of
his reign is deservedly hateful with the writers of the
Church. Valentinian was also an Arian; but he always
allowed a just liberty in matters of faith, oppressing
neither heathens nor Athanasians. From year to year,
the Christians went on increasing; and Manichæism also
spread, though not at the expense of orthodoxy, but
of the old gnostic sects, which daily dwindled more
and more. Against the foreigner, the empire was powerful:
with Persia, it was at peace, and old Sapor remained
quiet. Valentinian had two sons: by his first
wife he had Gratian, and by his second Valentinian II.,
an infant. Gratian was an amiable boy, and great care
was bestowed upon his education. Valentinian, who
had much good sense, had keenly felt his own want of
learning; but it is not to be wondered at, that owing to
this deficiency he erred in the choice of a master. He
thought that he had found in Ausonius an excellent
tutor for Gratian; just as Antoninus had been mistaken
in Fronto.
At the death of Valentinian in 375, Gratian was
seventeen years of age, and really able to hold the reins
of government. During the first years of his reign, his
rule was all that one could wish; for he behaved with
justice and lenity, and allowed of religious freedom.
Taking possession of Italy and the West, he left the East
317to his uncle Valens, upon whom there soon fell a fearful
visitation. The Goths, who since the days of Claudius
and Aurelian had settled in Dacia, invaded the
Roman empire under Hermanric, whose memory has
been handed down in the Heldenbuch, and in the Icelandic
Sagas.—The lay of the Nibelungen is originally
Gothic, from which language it has been paraphrased.—Whether
Hermanric belongs to the time in which Jornandes
places him, is a question hard to answer; I for
my part rather believe him to have been much earlier:
but an historical person he is. In short, there was once
upon a time a great Gothic empire in the South-east of
Europe, which was destroyed by the Huns. I am likewise
convinced that De Guigne’s idea of the early history
of the Huns is incorrect: they were a powerful
nomadic people of Mongolian race, quite distinct from
the Southern Asiatics and the Europæans; and they
make their appearance like the other nations of the
tablelands of Upper Asia.
The Goths were divided into three tribes, the Ostrogoths,
the Visigoths, and the Gepidæ. They were anything
but uncivilized, and as a people they had been
Christians much sooner than the inhabitants of the Roman
empire: when they overran it, the great majority
of them had already embraced Christianity. It is now
certain that the Huns, from reasons which are unknown
to us, pushed their way to the Danube, driving the
Goths before them. Among the latter, the Visigoths
were the most numerous: they had a national civilization
of their own, and already possessed an alphabet
invented for them by Ulphilas. Being unable to resist
the Huns, they in their distress now besought the Romans,
with whom they had long been at peace, to harbour
them within their empire. It would then undoubtedly
have been the true policy of the Romans, to
put forth all their strength to keep the Visigoths as
they were, by fighting for them in their own country:
but this was not thought of at all, the only question
318being, whether they should be received or not. They
were admitted, though on condition that they should
lay down their arms and disperse themselves throughout
the empire. But this proved to be impossible. The
fear of the Huns driving them onwards, they threw
themselves into skiffs and on rafts, caring only to get
over; and on the other hand, the Romans who had
been stationed to receive them, were not sufficient for
the duty, and moreover were guilty of much dishonesty:
for they allowed themselves to be bribed to let the
barbarians keep their arms. Nothing was done that
ought to have been done, and everything was done that
ought not to have been done. The Goths were not dispersed,
but allowed to remain together; yet all the
while they were treated with cruelty and plundered:
though a promise had been made to supply them with
necessaries until they were settled, it was taken advantage
of by the Romans to extort exorbitant prices from
them. This the Goths bore with great patience; (there
were then as yet only the Visigoths, the Ostrogoths being
still in the mountains:) they must have been immensely
rich, as the Romans made them pay quite incredible
sums. At last, however, they were goaded into fury by
this ill treatment; and at Marcianopolis (in the neighbourhood
of Schumla), the insurrection broke out, and
soon became general. At the head of the Visigoths,
who had no kings, were two judges, one of whom, Fritigern,
a really great man, conducted the war in a resolute
manner. While the infatuated Romans had never
thought it possible that their crimes should have led to
such consequences, the whole of these Goths were all at
once under arms, and they overran Mœsia and Thrace.
They in vain made attempts against several towns, as for
instance, Philippopolis; but the open country lay entirely
a prey to them. The dismay was dreadful. The Ostrogoths,
who soon followed, rushed into the places which
the Western Goths had left; yet otherwise the Goths of
the East and those of the West are in every respect two
319essentially different peoples.—Valens, now roused from
his listlessness, secured for himself a peace with Persia,
and led the legions of the East into the field: the Goths
were besieging Adrianople. He then summoned Gratian
from the West to his assistance. Had he waited
for his arrival, it would perhaps have been still possible
to withstand the whole shock of this migration of nations.
The Visigoths were one great mass of warriors,
amounting to nearly two hundred thousand fighting
men; and had they failed against Adrianople, the change
of the world would not have happened as it did. Valens,
although he was anything but a general, conducted
the war, being resolved upon venturing what he ought
never to have risked. This he did, however, from jealousy
against Gratian, who was approaching in forced
marches, after having already gained a brilliant victory
over the Alemanni; and instead of waiting for a few
weeks to be joined by him, he undertook the attack
single handed. Thus the battle was completely lost: two-thirds
of the Roman army were killed, and among them
Valens himself. The Goths now overran the whole diocese
of Illyricum, and Thrace, extending their inroads
even as far as the gates of Constantinople: it is true
that they were not able to possess themselves of the
towns; but the open country was thoroughly laid waste
by them, from the Adriatic to the Black Sea, and to
the borders of Greece. Six years now follow, the history
of which is utterly obscure.
When Valens had fallen, Gratian, seeing the impossibility
of undertaking alone the defence of the whole Roman
world, called Theodosius to be his colleague. This
resolution of Gratian’s does him great honour, as it
proves him to have been capable of the feelings of a
great man. Theodosius was the son of a most distinguished
person, who in the earlier days of Gratian had
recovered Britain and Africa, but had been put to death,
though guiltless, on a malignant charge. He was a
native of Spain, a province which had likewise given
320birth to the Emperors Trajan and Hadrian, to whom,
however, he was not related: he came from the neighbourhood
of Valladolid; the other two were from Seville.
He is rightly surnamed the Great: he achieved
great things in a great manner, being indeed the last
great emperor, if we set aside Majorian whose unlucky star
was too powerful for him. His defects were passion and
rage, which, however, were allied to his great qualities;
but his worst fault was, that after great exertions, he
would often give himself entirely up to sloth, and in
matters of government become the tool of many an unworthy
man, to whom he had given his confidence.
Theodosius had a task at which one shudders: with the
remaining forces of the Eastern empire,—for the West
was no longer able to support him,—he was to keep the
Goths at bay. Yet he not only set them bounds, but
he also succeeded in disarming them by means of treaties
of which we have no knowledge: in a series of
campaigns in which he cut off one tribe from the other,
he so managed to break them up, that they yielded to
the supremacy of Rome. But they remained, as it
seems, in Northern Illyricum, in Mœsia, and in Servia,
where they dwelt in the country, while the towns remained
Roman. In Illyricum, there are still to this
day the genuine descendants of the old stock. The
Goths lived there under the Roman sovereignty, and
they bound themselves to serve the empire, as Theodosius
found them very useful in his wars, and likewise
there were always Gothic troops in the Roman service:
yet they were not tributary, but in fact received a tribute
under the name of pay. Matters had been thus
settled, more especially since the year 384; and so they
remained until the death of Theodosius (395).
The first war into which Theodosius was brought,
was in consequence of the hapless fate of Gratian, who
had lost the popularity which he had enjoyed in the beginning
of his reign. For though he was still an amiable,
good youth of blameless morals, Gratian had really
321ceased to reign: leaving business to take its own course,
he had given himself up to the frivolous pleasures of
the chase; and he surrounded himself with barbarians,
favouring the Alans, and neglecting his native subjects,
who were thus made to rebel against him. At this
crisis, there also broke out a revolt of the troops in Britain
under Maximus: Gratian was slain, and Maximus
was proclaimed Emperor, and acknowledged by the
whole of the West. He now offered his friendship to
Theodosius, who wisely accepted it. Maximus was a
mild prince: blood he only shed when instigated by the
clergy to religious persecutions. For four years, the
friendship remained undisturbed; Valentinian II. (an
infant under the guardianship of his mother Justina),
Maximus, and Theodosius, being now the three Augusti.
But Maximus took upon himself to cross the Alps,
and rob Valentinian of his territory. The youth fled
with his mother to Thessalonica, where they were received
by Theodosius, who was induced by the extraordinary
beauty of the princess Galla to interest himself
for the family, and to bring Valentinian back to Italy.
Maximus was defeated at Aquileia, abandoned by his
troops, and put to death; and Theodosius gave the whole
of the West to be the government of his brother-in-law
Valentinian, who seemed to have all the good qualities
of his father, without any of his faults. But he was ill-fated.
A Frank general named Arbogastes, the commander
of his army, rose against him, as the Mayors of
the Palace did against the Merovingian kings. Valentinian
tried to withstand him, but to his own ruin. He
happened then to be at Vienne in Dauphiné, and there
he was strangled by Arbogastes. The latter now placed
on the throne one Eugenius, a courtier of rank, who was
tribunus notariorum, that is to say, very much what we
would call a cabinet councillor. Against him, Theodosius
now led his army: the decisive battle was again
fought (394) near Aquileia; and there Theodosius
displayed all that talent of his as a general, of which
322the fine lines in Claudian tell.[67] He knew how to
make the most different peoples—Goths, Alans, Huns—useful
for his ends, and willing to devote themselves
in his cause. The elements also fought for him; a
thunderstorm is said to have hastened the successful
issue of the battle.
The West was now won by Theodosius, and he became
emperor of the whole of the empire. In his last
years, he had the weakness to let himself be entirely
guided by Rufinus his favourite, who was his præfectus
prætorio. Rufinus was insatiably avaricious and bloodthirsty;
so that even before the death of Theodosius,
he caused weeping and wailing throughout the whole
of the empire: here was seen a really noble-hearted
prince under whom the empire was very badly ruled.
Antioch once roused the wrath of the emperor; but Libanius
and St. Chrysostom still succeeded in appeasing
him: on another occasion, however, he gave loose to
his rage, and was obliged to do penance. The division
of the empire had under existing circumstances already
become so natural, that Theodosius likewise decided
upon it: yet he was inexcusable in dividing it between
his two incapable sons, especially as Honorius was not
more than eleven years old, on which account he gave
him Stilicho for guardian. But the hereditary principle
had now so firmly rooted itself, that Theodosius
took it for granted that Stilicho would keep up the empire
for his son, just as in our times a minister or general
might do.
LITERATURE AND FINE ARTS.
In Rome, from the time of Diocletian down to Theodosius,
there was the greatest poverty of literature. Of
323poets, we have in the whole of this period only Ausonius,
who is bad beyond belief: it was but the veneration
of the French philologists of the sixteenth century
which raised him to some consideration; he is quite as
bad as the most wretched poets of the middle ages. In
prose also there is a grievous dearth. About the middle
of the fourth century, arose the writers of epitomes,
such as Eutropius and Victor; nor is it unlikely that
the epitome of Livy likewise dates from that time: these
men have not a spark of genius. On the other hand,
the Latin grammar has its beginning in that form in
which we know it. Its real father is Donatus, the master
of St. Jerome: Charisius does not belong to his
school, but is independent; he is an encyclopedist who
gives one a general view of the older works. Diomedes
also is a writer of the fourth century. To the latter
end of it likewise belongs Servius, who bears the stamp
of his age, which was the condensing of everything into
summaries. The only part of his commentary which we
have in a genuine form, is that on the two first books
of the Æneid: the rest we have in an abridgment only,
which very likely was made in the seventh or eighth
century. Another writer of the same kind is Festus,
who has arranged the work of Verrius Flaccus in alphabetical
order: he is very useful to us, although he does
not everywhere understand Verrius. Nonius Marcellus
is very likely somewhat later; yet he belongs to the
same school of grammarians, to which the impulse had
now been given. Lastly, at the end of the fourth century,
Macrobius also flourished.
The better Roman prose begins after Theodosius.
Ammianus Marcellinus, an ingenious writer although
not always correct, still belongs to the reign of Theodosius.
He is particularly honest and high-minded: he
had himself served as a soldier, and he is what a historian
ought always to be, a man of experience. From
Alexander Severus down to Diocletian, no one had written
history in Latin: in the reign of the latter, at the
324beginning of the fourth century, were what are called
the Scriptores Historiæ Augustæ, who are beneath criticism.
From thence again, down to Theodosius, there is
not one. Ammianus is a Greek of Antioch, and one
sees at once that he is a foreigner.—The rhetoricians
still continue: Marius Victorinus, bad as he is, has
made an epoch in his time. Of the school of the rhetoricians,
the præfect Symmachus remains to be mentioned,
whose letters are altogether got up after the pattern
of those of Pliny, and are without any historical substance.
His Panegyric also is of a school which reminds
one of Pliny. Now, on the whole, the Panegyrists
get into vogue, such as Eumenius, Pacatus, and others;—a
wretched kind indeed of literature; people were no
more ashamed of flattering.—Of poetry, not a trace is
found until the time of Theodosius, except the epigram
on the base of the obelisk of Constantius, and that on
Constantine which was placarded as a lampoon.
With Theodosius, a new life is infused into Latin literature.
Now arose Claudian, a Greek of Alexandria,
who at first also wrote Greek. There are few instances
besides of foreigners having written in a strange tongue
so well as he did; except, perhaps Goldoni:[68] M. Antoninus
also writes very good Greek. Claudian’s language
is everything that one could wish: one can see that he
made Latin his own with heartfelt liking. He is a true
poetical genius, although tainted indeed with the mannerism
of the later Greek poets; he is a wonderful master
of mythology, and is gifted moreover with great facility
and brilliancy of language: sometimes he is lascivious.
One reads him with about the same gratification
as one does Ovid: John Matthias Gesner was very
fond of him. Claudian’s influence was very great, and
a particular school of poets followed in his steps: one
of his disciples was Merobaudes, whose fragments I had
the good luck to discover at St. Gall. The language of
325Merobaudes, although he is a native of the West, has
much in it that is faulty; yet he is a man who does not
merely hunt for words, but whose words are the expression
of his feelings. He is quite enthusiastic for
Aëtius. The same Merobaudes is no doubt the author
of a most beautiful poem, which is contained in Fabricius’
Poëtæ Christiani,[69] a poem of as great depth as any
can have. He seems likewise to have been the author
of another poem on the miracles of Christ, which is
placed among those of Claudian, who was a heathen
Greek, whilst the other was a Christian. At the close
of the century, comes Sidonius Apollinaris, whom Gesner
rightly calls a great genius. His Latinity is Gallic
with a sprinkling of Romanic, and we see from him that
the common language was very different from the classic
style: but for all that we find him to be a man of
most varied acquirements. There were, however, at
that period also some writers of history, as the times
were stirring, and afforded a good subject; but the
greater part of them have been lost: of Renatus Profuturus,[70]
a fragment which is still extant, gives one a
very favourable impression.
But an entirely new literature was the Christian one,
which has not yet been noticed and brought out as much
as it deserves. Lactantius, of whom we have already
spoken, is of great importance. Ambrose and others
are less so as writers. Two great men, moreover, are
St. Jerome and St. Augustine; who indeed are giants:
what I know of them entitles them to high praise. The
literary and critical writings of St. Jerome have not
much in them: but in the rest he has liveliness, versatility,
an immense range of learning, and, even in his old
age, a rich vein of wit, which is a leading trait in him:
were he not a writer of the Church, he might have shone
by his wit in the same manner as Pascal did. Augustine
326is a truly philosophic mind, as strongly actuated
by a yearning after truth as any of the great philosophers:
his language also is very noble. He is by no
means witty, like St. Jerome; but he is eloquent,
and in many places admirable. The latter half of the
fourth, and the whole of the fifth century, are a classical
era for Christian literature. Sulpicius Severus’
Church history is a masterpiece; and of this time
are also the poems of Cælius Sedulius and Claudius
Mamertus. The full life of the Gallic period was in this
century: Gaul, in spite of all its misfortunes, had a glorious
era for the intellect. The writings of Salvian, who
was a priest or bishop of Marseilles, are very remarkable.
He wrote on the government of God, and contra
avaritiam; and though his language is Gallican, and his
rhetorical turn may subject him to censure, he is exceedingly
interesting on account of his political feelings
which are quite different from those of Orosius. He
lays bare the whole misery of the age; yet he makes no
sanctimonious exhortations, but inveighs against those
who in better times had neglected the favourable moment,
and against the rich: this political indignation
against the mighty ones of the earth, is quite a particular
feature of his. There is a downright republican bias
in him, which is remarkable in a psychological as well
as in an historical point of view: it is evident what
many even in the Church were now driving at, as the
Church contained at that time many republican elements
of which Salvian is quite aware. What he really
aims at, is community of goods under the administration
of the presbyters. Prudentius is in order of time
the first of the Christian poets; yet his poems are but
middling. The greatest Christian poet is Pope Hilary,
who is undoubtedly the author of a poem which was
formerly ascribed to St. Hilary, whose, however, it cannot
be, as it appears from the dedication, that it belongs to
the fifth century. Its subject is the creation, and it is
full of poetical spirit: it is quite in the manner of Lucretius,
327whom he evidently took for his pattern; and though
there are faults in the language and prosody, it is the
work of a fine poet. He was the friend of the great
Pope Leo, by whom he was sent as a delegate to the
mad Council of Ephesus, there to speak words of peace
and reconciliation. Pope Leo’s writings should also be
read by posterity: he is a very ingenious writer, and,
taking him altogether, a great man.
The Greek literature of the fourth century is quite
rhetorical: in the fifth, it rises again, and poets and
historians come out. These last are headed by Eunapius,
who is followed by a διαδοχή of historians—Priscus,
Malchus, Candidus, and others. The Neo-Platonic
philosophy likewise went on flourishing, and poetry also
revived in the fifth century. The establishment of the
eastern empire evidently had a beneficial effect on literature.
Architecture had already quite fallen off in the fourth
century. Constantine’s buildings are most barefaced
robberies: his arch is taken from that of Trajan, and
all that is of his time, is below criticism. Painting is
quite supplanted by mosaic, which, however, at that
time was beautiful: in the chapel of Pope Hilary there
is some very fine mosaic work. This was peculiar to
the west, although there is no doubt but that the art
originated in Alexandria.
On the whole, ignorance and indifference to literature
increased more and more among the higher classes,
whilst the memory of the olden times had been entirely
lost.
DIVISION OF THE EMPIRE. HONORIUS, ARCADIUS. STILICHO. ALARIC. RADAGAISE. ADOLPHUS. CONSTANTINE. GERONTIUS. PLACIDIA. VALENTINIAN III. BONIFACE. AETIUS. GENSERIC. ATTILA. PETRONIUS MAXIMUS. AVITUS. RICIMER. MAJORIAN. SEVERUS. ANTHEMIUS. OLYBRIUS. GLYCERIUS. JULIUS NEPOS. ORESTES. ROMULUS AUGUSTULUS.
328
Theodosius left two sons, Arcadius, who was eighteen,
and Honorius who was eleven years of age. Honorius,
he committed to the guardianship of Stilicho; and he
intrusted Rufinus with the government of the East,
which had fallen to the lot of Arcadius.[71] Stilicho, it
is certain, was not of Roman extraction, and this is all
that we know of his descent: he must have greatly distinguished
himself in the wars of Theodosius, as he had
risen to the rank of magister utriusque militiæ. Theodosius
had married him to Serena, the daughter of his
brother and his own adopted child, who is therefore
called Regina by the writers of that age. Stilicho was
completely master in the West; whereas in the East,
Arcadius, supported by Eutropius, tried to rid himself
of the rule of Rufinus. The latter, who had set his heart
upon marrying his daughter to Arcadius, had been
baffled by a clever court intrigue; but, as his eyes were
soon opened, he continued to hold unshaken sway.
When, however, Stilicho availed himself of the pretext
of leading back the troops of the East which were still
in Italy, Rufinus was panic-struck, and got an order
from the emperor that Stilicho should not move: the
latter therefore respectfully drew back, and sent the
troops alone to the East. They then advanced: Rufinus
was taken by surprise, and surrounded and murdered
in the Field of Mars near Constantinople. His
329power forthwith chiefly fell into the hands of the eunuch
Eutropius.
Alaric now came with the Visigoths from the East to
the West. Soon after the death of Theodosius, he rose
against the Roman empire, and carried the war again
into Greece, crushing the little life which still lingered
in that country, which was then, as in the days of Decius
and Gallienus, completely trampled under foot. But
here we take leave of the East. Stilicho brought assistance
and defeated Alaric, who, however, escaped him,
crossing with his booty the bay of Crissa near Rhium:
this proves him to have been a great man. Soon afterwards,
Alaric made his peace with the eastern empire, and
was appointed magister militum in Illyria, under which
title he became in fact an imperial præfect. How he
got that dignity, and how he lost it; and at what time
Illyricum ceased to be in the hands of the Goths, and
came again to be embodied in the eastern empire, is
quite an enigma. On the whole, the migration of the
nations, when one searches closely into it, gives ground
for queries and riddles which are never to be solved.
The history of those times is so imperfectly known, that
it is not possible to decide even things which are some
of the most important points. The eastern Goths, perhaps
also the Gepidæ, are in the days of Valens likewise
in the diocese of Illyricum; in the period after Attila,
in the reign of the emperor Marcian, they are in two
kingdoms on the banks of the Danube:[72] where have
they been in the meanwhile? Under Attila, they are
said to have been in Pannonia; but the question is then,
in what part of Pannonia? they cannot have been on
the north of the Danube. The whole epoch is very confused,
and new materials are not to be found; yet I believe
that by carefully and closely sifting the existing
materials, many a question might be solved which Gibbon
and others did not even put to themselves.—Alaric,
330not unlikely at the instigation of the eastern empire,
now appears in the West. Honorius then held his court
at Milan, which since Maximian had often become the
abode of the emperor, and a regular capital; yet Milan,
although very strongly fortified, and in the midst of a
large plain, could not feel safe to Honorius, and therefore,
when Alaric was advancing from Aquileia, he fled
across the Alps. But at Asti in Piedmont he was already
hemmed in by the Goths, when Stilicho came to
his rescue, bringing with him all the forces that he
could muster: these, however, consisted almost wholly
of barbarians. Not only literature and creative genius,
but also the spirit of bravery had died away: the
Italians were now a mere helpless rabble; there was no
making troops out of them. Even in our days, the
States of the Church and Naples could not make head
against a determined army of six thousand men: a few
thousand Algerines might sack Rome, if they were but
aware of this weakness. On Easter Day, Stilicho with
his army fell upon the Goths near Pollentia in Montferrat,
and gained a victory: fanaticism brought it
as a crime against him that he had given battle on the
holy day. The Goths, though not dispersed, had to
think of retreating. Alaric, however, made a bold forward
movement against Rome; but was pursued by
Stilicho, and, after a second unlucky fight, concluded a
convention by which he withdrew from Italy. Honorius
had a triumph, and built a triumphal arch, which
was still standing in the fourteenth century, when,
alas! it was demolished. There exists another monument
of that time, the inscription on a gate (Porta S.
Lorenzo), in which one sees the traces of Stilicho’s name,
who restored the walls, egestis immensibus ruderibus.
Aurelian in fact had fortified Rome; but as the walls
had got since then into a very bad state, they were
now once more repaired. It was no doubt on this occasion,
that the Monte Testaccio was thrown up, as before
that time the city wall was quite buried under a mass
331of rubbish: it is a marsh which has been filled up with
potsherds.
Soon after Alaric had retreated to Illyricum, a new
calamity burst upon Italy. Radagaise, who is said to
have likewise been a Goth, but had no kindred with the
Ostrogoths, came down with Sueves, Vandals, and other
tribes, who were not yet Christians, and therefore much
more cruel than the Goths. They swept down from the
Alps through unhappy Lombardy, and laid siege to Florence,
where Stilicho again went forth against them,
and forced them back with unaccountable skill into the
Apennines. How these hordes could so tamely have
allowed themselves to be driven back, is more than we
are able to understand. Most of them died of want;
Many surrendered, and were sold in great masses.
Thus Italy was saved for the time. The eastern empire,
although at peace with Persia, did not take the
least share in the dangers and distresses of the West.
It had been necessary to send for troops even from the
borders of the Rhine, and from Britain; and thus the
latter cast itself off from the Roman empire. The troops
on the Rhine were greatly weakened, and could not
withstand the attacks of the Alemanni, Burgundians,
Sueves, Vandals, and Alans, who in 407 forced the passage
across the Rhine, and overran Gaul. This most unhappy
country was suffering frightfully beneath a weight of
taxation which was made still heavier by the system of
solidary pledge, the commonalties being bound to make
good the whole amount of what was laid upon them.
The decurions, who were mostly chosen from the richest
men, were directly answerable for the money, and if
they could not pay it, torture was even used to force
them: in their turn, they might exact it from the rate payers.
People, therefore, had rather be sold for slaves
than accept such a dignity; and this gave rise to a series
of laws for compelling the acceptance of the decurionship,
most of the enactments of which are to define
what pleas for exemption are not to be taken. This burthen,
332of which no remission was granted, had as early
as in the third century stirred up the peasants’ wars, of
which we meet with the first traces in the reign of Gallienus:
from thenceforth they never leave off again. The
rising of the Bagaudæ (thus these peasants are called)
has much puzzled the French antiquaries: there were
entire districts which took up arms in self-defence against
the extortions of the government. We know little or
nothing of what the Gauls had now to suffer from the
barbarians. A warlike spirit, however, was sooner
roused among them than in Italy: Auvergne truly became
a land of warriors, and defended itself against the
inroads of the enemy. When Gaul had been thoroughly
ravaged, the invading hordes turned themselves towards
Spain. The Sueves, Alans, and Vandals, altogether
withdrew from Gaul; but the Burgundians remained
behind in Burgundy, Franche Comté, Savoy, and afterwards
also in Dauphiné: at that time, they had the
country of the Æqui and the Sequani, and the west of
Switzerland. The Sueves and Vandals in Spain were
quite independent of the Roman empire, and always
kept hostile to it; the Burgundians, on the other hand,
who were a small nation in a large territory, submitted
in some sort to the supremacy of the Roman emperor,
as to a liege lord, in consideration of his allowing them
to live there.
Stilicho was loudly reviled because he could not save
Gaul; and moreover he had awakened the mistrust of
Honorius and his court ever since his son Eucherius
was grown up. Honorius had married one after another
two daughters of Stilicho, Maria and Thermantia;
and as the former of these had died without issue,
and no one thought that Thermantia would have children,
it had been the more generally believed that Stilicho
would make his son emperor. Yet there is not a
shadow of proof that Stilicho sought the life of Honorius:
he would much rather have waited for his death,
when it would have been quite the regular course for
333Eucherius to succeed. Stilicho indeed was the mainstay
of the empire: he alone kept Alaric in awe. Honorius
notwithstanding conspired against him,—just as
Louis XIII. did against one of his subjects,—and, after
having first got up an insurrection of the army, he sent
assassins to fall upon him in his palace. His friends
having been slain before him, Stilicho fled into a church;
but was dragged out of it and murdered, as was also his
son: Serena his widow, was condemned to death by the
base senate.
To Alaric the murder of Stilicho became a pretext for
again invading Italy. Honorius now took up his abode
in the inaccessible city of Ravenna, which at that time
was built on islands, like Venice now, being separated
by lagunes from the main land, with which it was only
connected by an isthmus. Without troubling himself
to besiege Ravenna, Alaric marched on the Flaminian
road against Rome, which he blockaded. Here, before
long, the most horrible famine was seen: people murdered
to feed on the corpses, so that even children are
said to have been eaten by their own parents: besides
which there broke out a plague, the necessary consequence
of this state of things. At last a capitulation
was concluded, though one cannot understand why Alaric
acceded to it: perhaps he did so because the summer
had already come on, and was severely felt by the
army, which may likewise have suffered from epidemics.
Rome having ransomed itself, negociations for peace
were to be set on foot between the court of Ravenna
and Alaric, it being proposed that the emperor should
appoint Alaric commander-in-chief of the whole of the
western empire. As these negociations did not lead to
any result, Alaric turned himself for the second time towards
Rome. The senate fell off from Honorius; Alaric
proclaimed Attalus, the præfectus prætorio, emperor, and
marched with him to Ravenna; and Honorius was so
faint-hearted as to acknowledge Attalus as his colleague.
When, however, in the meanwhile, reinforcements had
334landed in the port of Ravenna, and Attalus had fallen
into disgrace with the Gothic chief, Honorius again
broke off the negociations, and Alaric returned for the
third time to Rome. On the 24th August, 410, was that
awful burning of Rome which is still so famous in the
world’s history, the Salarian gate, which is yet standing,
having been opened to the Goths by treachery.
Although Rome had to suffer many of the horrors of a
town taken by storm, little blood was shed: many were
led away as prisoners. The lust and rapine of the Goths
hardly knew any bounds: the inhabitants were racked
to make them show where they had hidden their treasures.
The churches only were not plundered. After
a pillage of three days, the evacuation began, which
was completed by the sixth day. Alaric marched to
Rhegium, intending to go also to Sicily; but he turned
back. Two years after the taking of Rome, he died in
Cosenza. (To this refers the beautiful poem of Count
Platen, “The Tomb at Busento.”) The command of the
army fell to his brother-in-law Adolphus, who, quite
unlike Alaric, had a fondness for the Romans: he left
Italy and marched to Languedoc. On both sides of the
Pyrenees, over part of Languedoc and Catalonia, he
reigned as an independent prince, the ally of the Romans.
There he married Placidia, Honorius’ sister,
who had been led away as a captive, and who now so
closely knit the alliance, that it changed into real
friendship. Adolphus, who had already led his troops
into Spain, where he conquered the Vandals, Sueves,
and Alans, and drove them into Asturias, Galicia, and
Lusitania; gave back to the Roman empire the provinces
which he did not occupy himself. He also did
very good service against Jovinus, a usurper, and his
brother Sebastianus.
In Britain, whilst Alaric was in Italy, an officer of
the name of Constantine had been proclaimed Augustus
by the soldiers, and had been favourably received
in Gaul. Against him arose Gerontius, another usurper,
335who placed Maximus, a friend of his, on the throne;
but in Gaul there came forth an army of Honorius
under Constantius, ostensibly to the assistance of Constantine,
which was quite a sound policy. Constantius
compelled Gerontius and Maximus, who were besieging
Arles, to put an end to their own lives; then he afterwards
went on with the war against Constantine, and
thus regained Gaul and Spain for the Romans. For
this, after the death of Adolphus, he was rewarded with
the hand of Galla Placidia. The friendship between
the Western Goths and the Romans now ceased again:
Singeric and Wallia broke off with them, and the Visigoths,
who were very jealous of their independence, returned
to their former attitude towards them. Thenceforth,
except that her coasts were pillaged by Genseric,
Italy had peace until the invasion of Attila: yet we
may easily imagine how little she was able to recover
herself. Honorius died in 423.
Placidia had borne to Constantius two children, Placidus
Valentinianus and Justa Grata Honoria, both of
them a curse to the empire. Constantius indeed had
extorted from Honorius his being acknowledged as
Augustus; but he died immediately after, even before
Honorius, at whose death Placidus was a boy of not
more than four years old, and therefore not capable of
taking to himself the throne. Arcadius also was already
dead, and his rule was nominally in the hands of
his very youthful son, Theodosius II., who his whole
life long never became his own master, but really was
in those of Pulcheria, the new emperor’s sister: thus
the East was very badly governed. Galla Placidia fled
with her children to Constantinople; but before succours
arrived from thence, the government was seized
by a usurper, Johannes, the first emperor with a Christian
name.[73] He reigned two years. Theodosius, on
the other hand, bestowed the crown on his cousin, the
336boy Valentinian III., and sent two armies to Italy under
Ardaburius and Aspar, both of whom were Isaurians.
This undertaking did not succeed at first, the fleet having
been scattered by a storm; but Aspar advanced unresisted
through Illyricum, which seems to have returned again
beneath the sovereignty of the emperor, and Johannes
was deserted by his troops, and Placidus[74] Valentinian
proclaimed emperor. His mother Placidia now governed
the West, in a way which indeed was not much to
her credit, though things became worse after her death
in the middle of the century, when her son ruled alone.
Rome was then richer in distinguished men than it had
been in the times of the better emperors; above all are
the names of Boniface and Aëtius, neither of whom
could have outvied the other without causing the fall
of the empire. Who Boniface was, is little known: he
seems to have been an Italian. Aëtius was from Scythia,
that is to say, Lower Mœsia, somewhere in the
neighbourhood of Silistria, and of Latin blood, notwithstanding
his Greek name: his father was a man of rank
who lost his life owing to treachery, or some tyrannical
act of Alaric. The age of Aëtius cannot exactly be ascertained:
he must have been between fifty and sixty,
or more than sixty when he died; for as a young man
he was with Alaric and the Huns as a hostage, and often
afterwards as an ambassador: he commanded their
respect, being their equal in bravery, and yet having
the advantage of superior civilization as well. He was
an extraordinary man, and those who were in power
ought to have allowed him to have his own way; just
as the Athenian people did Alcibiades: but he was by
no means without blemish, and he behaved unjustly
and spitefully towards Boniface, by which he brought
the empire into great trouble. His influence over Placidia
and Valentinian being unbounded, he got Boniface,
who was governor (comes) of Africa, recalled, and
337summoned to Ravenna where the court then was. As
Boniface had to expect to lose his life if he went, he
formed the accursed resolution of calling the Vandals,
who at that time were in the west of Spain, over into
Africa: they came under Gonderic, and the consequence
was the devastation of Africa from the Straits of Gibraltar
to Carthage. No German people has carried on
war with such faithlessness and doggedness: hitherto
Africa had suffered but little. They found support
among the Donatists, who had been driven to despair
by a frightful persecution, though they were only impracticable
seceders who had gone out in Diocletian’s
reign on account of the election of a bishop: these
were a rude sect, but noble-hearted fanatics, and they
were horribly dealt with. There is no doubt that their
persecution lasted even later than this, and that the
Arabs in their turn found partisans among them: they
looked upon the barbarians as their deliverers. Their
example may well be a lesson to those who shut their
eyes to the misery to which intolerance, or, rather, to
call it by its right name, injustice gives birth: the
dreadful persecution of the Donatists had now lasted
more than a hundred years. Genseric, who had succeeded
his brother Gonderic, took the whole country,
with the exception of a few places (429). The Moorish
tribes he left alone; they were perfectly free: the Vandal
rule only extended over the province of Tunis, and
the maritime towns. The eyes of Boniface were now
opened to the fearful calamity of which he had been the
cause, and he tried in vain to check the stream. He
met with confidence from Placidia, who in this instance
behaved nobly: she sent him troops, which, however,
were beaten in two decisive battles. After some years
a truce, and then a peace was made, in which Rome
gave up the greatest part of Africa; all indeed but Carthage,
and some other places. This peace the faithless
Genseric did not keep; but, on the contrary, took advantage
of it to make himself master of Carthage.—Carthage,
338next to Rome, was the largest town in the
Western Empire, being to that capital, as Hadrianople
was to Constantinople. Its extent was considerable,
and it was built on the spot where the gardens of Old
Carthage had been, outside the walls of the old town.
Salvian of Marseilles shows what a place it was; yet he
says, that one ought rather to rejoice at its having been
taken by the barbarians, than grieve over it, as immorality
had reached the highest pitch, and it was inconceivable
how the city could have called itself Christian.
In former times, Christianity had certainly done a great
deal of good to many individuals; but since the masses
had adopted it, the church was no longer a select community,
and therefore it had ceased to have any influence
upon morals. It is remarkable how thoughtlessly
at that time whole towns became christian, just as if a
new ruler were proclaimed, the people remaining at
heart as bad as they ever were. It is the greatest misfortune
for the world and for Christianity itself, that
Constantine should have been in such haste to make
the faith universal: the hierarchy thus grew worse and
worse, and although there were still Popes like Leo the
Great, there were likewise many bad bishops.
The Vandal fleets from Africa pillaged Sicily, Sardinia,
Corsica, and also the coast of Italy. This piracy
was a fresh calamity for Italy, which had already begun
to recover a little from its sufferings, although
many parts had indeed remained waste, and the mass of
the population had given themselves up as serfs to the
great lords. And as ill luck would have it, most
of the Roman nobles had their estates in Africa; so
that these families, whose wealth sounds quite fabulous,
were utterly ruined, as Genseric confiscated everything.
A new storm came from another quarter, even the
Huns who had formerly driven away the Goths. Of
their abodes in the times of Theodosius and his sons,
we have no certain trace; perhaps they dwelled in the
339country between the banks of the Don and the borders
of Wallachia: during the first years of Theodosius, they
are to be found on the banks of the Danube, and even
beyond the Theiss, as far as Pannonia. Concerning all
these points, our sources are too scanty: as for the hypothesis
of De Guignes, who traces them from China, I
have already branded it as false; it is a view which in
this day is justly rejected. The Huns being now met
with as far as Pannonia, the Pannonian frontier must
have been lost by the Romans. Bledas and Attila (Bledel
and Etzel), the two sons[75] of Rugilas, appear with a
formidable power as the kings of the Huns: the description
of the might of Attila, however, is one of the weak
points in Gibbon, as he believes the rule of Attila to
have reached as far as China. It is indeed very likely
that his sway extended beyond the Don even to the
Volga: the German peoples paid homage to him, as one
may see from our own poems; and as they were treated
by him with forbearance, the lays are not bitter upon
him. The main strength of his empire, according to a
very correct remark of Friedrich Schlegel, was in German
tribes: he himself, as Jornandes describes him, was
a Mogul, and surrounded by Moguls. Yet this Mogul
tribe is comparatively weak; so that, immediately after
his death, the German tribes are free again. Until the
middle of the fifth century, Attila had turned himself
against the eastern empire only, which he made to suffer
dreadfully by devastation, disgraceful treaties of
peace, and tribute: Servia, and the greater part of Bulgaria,
he altogether changed into a desert. The Huns
carried on their frightful and bloodthirsty havoc in quite
a different manner from the Goths, for instance: they
were in the true sense of the word, destroyers. The
western empire, being hard pressed by the Vandals,
was not able to aid that of the East in this distress:
there was even a sort of friendly relation between the
340former and the Huns, namely, by means of presents.
Aëtius, having been banished, had betaken himself to
the Huns, from whence, however, he returned: under
their protection, he laid the foundations of his power in
the empire, until he was so firmly established that he
could do without them. He had revived the authority
of Rome beyond all expectation: in Gaul, he had reduced
the distant countries on the coast, which had
made themselves independent; he also restored the frontier
of the Rhine, though indeed the Franks still dwelled
from Belgium to the Saone, and the Burgundians
lived under their own kings, being tributary to the Romans.
Provence, however, part of Dauphiné, Lower
Languedoc, Lower Loire, Auvergne, and the north-west
of Gaul, as well as Spain on the side of the Mediterranean,
with the exception of Catalonia, were subject to
the latter: the Visigoths had the South. No European
country is so torn in pieces as the western empire then
was: the countries there were for the most part covered
with heaps of ruins, even as a land brought down to the
deepest misery; of which we may form an idea by reading
the poems of Logau at the end of the Thirty Years’
War.
Attila had been led by a quarrel with a Frankish
royal house to march into Gaul. Here Aëtius united
with the feeble forces of the empire against him, the
warriors of the Visigoths, the ruling party of the Franks
in Gaul under Merovæus, and the Burgundians: nearly
all his troops were barbarians, but the spirit was his.
Attila laid siege to Orleans, which was on the point of
surrendering, and it would have been destroyed like the
places on the banks of the Rhine, when Aëtius and
Theodoric the king of the Visigoths came to its relief.
Attila fell back into Champagne (Campi Catalaunici).
The decisive battle in the year 451, is wrongly called
the battle near Chalons, which I do not at all look upon
as certain: Campi Catalaunici mean Champagne; so
that it does not necessarily follow that the battle was
341precisely near Chalons. In this mighty combat, Attila
led the barbarians of the East, the majority of them
being German tribes, against the barbarians of the
West. Yet Aëtius had to contend not only against
superior numbers, but also against treachery, as the
Alans, who were placed in the centre of his host, gave
way, and the Huns were enabled to break through his
ranks. The Visigoths were about to be overpowered,
Theodoric being dead; but Thorismund, his heir, made
a decisive charge and Aëtius also conquered at last. The
Huns were not driven back, but retreated behind their
rampart of waggons, where Aëtius did not venture to
attack them; so that both parties retired. The numbers
which have been given of those who were killed
and taken prisoners, are beyond all belief.
When the winter was over, Attila made his appearance
in Italy. Here Aëtius could only oppose to him
the feeble, uncertain forces of a land which had become
utterly unwarlike. Aquileia, Padua, and other towns
were destroyed; all who did not flee, were murdered:
people took refuge in the marshes, which was the occasion
of the founding of Venice. The details which we
have concerning the first tribunes of Venice, &c., are
fabulous. Attila had been invited by the princess Honoria
into Italy.
The death of Attila, which soon followed, would
perhaps have given rest to Italy, had not Aëtius, the
only support of Rome, met with his death at the same
time. Aëtius, had he wished to rebel, might long ago
have taken the throne for himself; but he was satisfied
with being the acknowledged and actual ruler of the
empire: his title was that of Patrician; but he is also
mentioned in the chronicles as Dux Romanorum. His
younger son Gaudentius was betrothed to Eudoxia, the
daughter of Valentinian, both of them being very
young; without doubt Aëtius thereby wished to secure
the succession for Gaudentius. Valentinian, however,
who was not yet old, expected that this would put an
342end to his own dominion; and therefore he formed a
plot against Aëtius. The latter, suspecting nothing,
went to the imperial palace at Rome on the Palatine,
and there Valentinian stabbed him with his own hand:
very likely, no one was allowed to present himself with
arms before the emperor, as was the case in Constantinople.
His son also, and many of his friends were murdered.
One is tempted to think that this led to the
rise of Ricimer; at least, he very soon after is met with
in Aëtius’ place. Rome was now deprived of the great
man, who alone could guarantee the safety of the empire:
all the successors of Valentinian were merely emperors
in name. Valentinian filled the measure of his
wretchedness by an outrage on the wife of Petronius
Maximus. He treacherously decoyed her into the palace,
to gratify his infamous lusts; and by this deed he
drove the injured husband into a conspiracy. Valentinian
was murdered in the Field of Mars, and Petronius
was proclaimed emperor.
Petronius’ wife having died in the meanwhile, he
compelled Valentinian’s widow, Eudoxia, to marry him.
She, however, had loved her former husband in spite of
his profligacy, and she brooded over schemes of revenge:
she invited Genseric to come to Rome and to achieve
its conquest. This was so easily done, that one wonders
at his not having made it before, and frequently
afterwards: the co-operation of the empress is quite
evident. When Genseric appeared, the clergy and the
senate went out to meet him, imploring his mercy:
whereupon he promised not to destroy the people. Notwithstanding
this, the outrages of the soldiers were
nearly as wanton as if the city had been taken by sword;
only there was not quite so much bloodshed. Fourteen
whole days was the city pillaged: all the silver, all the
bronze was taken away; the golden plates, and the gilt
tiles on the Capitol, nay, all that had any value, and
could be moved, was carried away to the Vandal ships
at Ostia. Petronius himself was slain in the tumult.
343The conquerors had left Rome exhausted, like a body
bled to death: the senate had not even the spirit to proclaim
a new emperor.
And now, the senator M. Mæcilius Avitus, a very rich
and accomplished nobleman in Auvergne, declared himself
emperor in Gaul, and crossed the Alps. No one
indeed had really proclaimed him. The state of things
had become very strange: it was not the army in the
province, that proclaimed the emperor; but a peculiar
right had then sprung up by which, when there was no
hereditary claim, the senate would elect, the people give
its assent by acclamation, and the soldiers acknowledge
the choice. Avitus came to Rome, and was recognised;
but Ricimer, a Sueve of royal race, was even then all-powerful
there. All the barbarians who acted a part
in Rome, must not be looked upon as mere savages:
they were Christians, and understood and spoke the
Volgare, which even then came nearer to the modern
Italian, than to the Latin; and they were quite as civilized
as our own ancestors were in the middle ages.
Some few of them had a tinge of classical knowledge,
like Theodoric the Visigoth and the younger Alaric;
but it was otherwise with Ricimer and those of his class,
who undoubtedly had a hearty contempt for the Roman
civilisation. All those Germans, alas! were not a whit
better than the degenerate Italians: they were just as
faithless, just as cruel. Ricimer soon became false to
Avitus; and the latter took possession of the see of Placentia,
from whence he also soon fled: he seems to have
died a natural death, owing to a sickness brought on by
the persecutions which he had had to suffer.
In the room of Avitus, Ricimer set up a man of a
character such as was no more to be looked for in those
days of Rome’s decline—Majorian, who, as it seems,
was an Italian born, (457). However unwarlike the
Italian people then was, it yet produced distinguished
generals, as we may see in the cases of Aëtius and Majorian.
The latter undoubtedly deserves the high character
344which Procopius gives him; Sidonius, his epitaph,
his laws, the individual traits recorded of him, all redound
to his praise. Procopius says that he had surpassed
all the Roman emperors in excellence: he had a
great mind, and was of a highly practical turn. For
four whole years he still stood his ground, and was actually
master by the side of the faithless barbarian Ricimer,
who had the main forces of the empire at his disposal.
The Visigoths in Upper Languedoc and in Catalonia,
owned his personal greatness, and paid homage to
him and to the majesty of the Roman empire which
he had restored. The Vandals being the curse of that
empire, he planned an expedition against them, for
which he had made extraordinary preparations: he was
resolved not to grant them any terms, but to crush
them. And they must needs have been overpowered, but
for treachery at home. It is quite evident that Ricimer
betrayed him, and was the cause of Genseric’s getting
the Roman fleet at Carthagena set on fire. Notwithstanding
this, Majorian concluded an advantageous
peace, which at least secured the coasts of Italy and
Sicily. On his return, at the instigation of Ricimer, a
rebellion broke out against him: he was obliged to renounce
the throne, and a few days after he ceased to
live (461).
Ricimer’s absolute sway under a nominal emperor,
lasted until 467, during which seven years a quite unknown
emperor, Libius Severus, had the empty name
of sovereign. Ricimer had an army, enlisted from
what were called the fœderati (all sorts of German
tribes), and he looked upon Italy as his realm; yet he
was in a critical position, as he had to protect Italy;
for he could not have kept it against Genseric. His
power was limited. What still belonged to the Romans
in Gaul and Spain, was subject to the Magister militum
Ægidius, a very distinguished man, and a Roman, who
had made himself independent, and ruled over Spain and
part of Gaul. Marcellinus, another commander, an old
345and faithful servant of Aëtius, had become prince of Illyricum.
Ricimer, after the death of Severus (465),
ruled alone; but not beyond Italy. As, however, that
country still continued to be a prey to the pirate-ships
of the Vandals, Ricimer allowed the senate to apply
to the emperor Leo at Constantinople, and to ask
him to appoint an emperor under his supremacy, and
to come to the aid of the empire.
Leo named Anthemius, the son-in-law of his predecessor
Marcian, and whom he was glad to get rid of;
sent him with a considerable body of troops; and made
preparations for a grand expedition against the Vandals.
By the death of Ægidius, the prefecture of Gaul
was reunited with Italy; and Marcellinus also had
placed Illyricum again under the supremacy of the emperor.
On the side of Italy, Sardinia was wrested out
of the grasp of the Vandals; Basiliscus, a general of the
east and a brother-in-law of Leo, led a considerable army
against Carthage; and another was sent against Tripolis.
The plan was a brilliant one, and the beginning of
the undertaking successful; but Genseric, who always
got the advantage by discovering those who would sell
themselves, now also warded off the decisive moment
by craftiness. There is some suspicion that even Basiliscus
sold himself; perhaps Ricimer also was guilty
again. However this may have been, the expedition
proved a total failure. Ricimer and Anthemius now
fell out, although Anthemius had married his daughter
to Ricimer; and thus the help which had been expected
from the eastern emperor, only became the source of still
greater calamity. Ricimer now kept his court at Milan;
Anthemius lived at Rome: they were implacable
enemies, nor did the attempt to reconcile them lead to
any result.
A new pretender to the crown, Olybrius, the husband
of the younger daughter of Valentinian, who besides
such claims had also those of the gens Anicia, now offered
himself to Ricimer. The latter caused him to be
346proclaimed. Anthemius, however, would not give up
Rome; on which Ricimer laid siege to it for three
months, when he at last burst in over the bridge, and
it was taken by storm, and had to suffer all the horrors
of a conquered city. As the marriage of Ricimer with
the daughter of Anthemius had been the last brilliant
moment for Rome, thus the present calamity was the
most awful one, being indeed far more terrible than
when it was taken by the Goths and Vandals: Pope
Gelasius speaks in very strong terms of the horrors
which were perpetrated on this occasion. Anthemius
himself lost his life: Ricimer and Olybrius survived him
only a few months. There seem to have been epidemics,
of which there is also mention.
Now Gundobald, the king of the Burgundians, who
had taken Ricimer’s place, in his capacity of Patrician
appointed a Roman of the name of Glycerius, emperor.
Against him, however, the court of Constantinople sent
Julius Nepos, another Roman of rank, who with some
assistance from Constantinople got possession of Rome
and Ravenna. Glycerius abdicated; but Nepos was refused
obedience by Orestes, a Roman from Noricum,
who had been great even in the days of Attila. At this
time, after Gundobald had left Italy, Orestes was Patrician,
that is to say, commander-in-chief. Although a
Roman by birth, he had been brought up among barbarians,
and had adopted their language, manners, dress,
and way of living: from reasons which we cannot account
for, he conferred the imperial dignity upon his
son Romulus, who had received his strange name from
the father of his mother, a count Romulus in Noricum.
Nepos, that he might be acknowledged by the Visigoths,
had already given up the Roman lands in Gaul,
even more than those barbarians were able to occupy:
the people of Auvergne abandoned the hopeless idea of
resistance; but in the north of Gaul, between Burgundy
and the settlements of the Franks, a considerable part
of the country was still Roman, though separated from
347the bulk of the empire ever since the death of Ægidius.
That territory was now subject to Syagrius, and it yet
lasted ten years longer than the western empire, until
it was likewise broken up by Clovis. Romulus, who
was not called Augustus, but Augustulus, was the last
emperor. Against him the barbarian tribes, stirred up
by Odoachar, a German prince, arose in rebellion: they
demanded, over and above their exorbitant pay, no less
than a third of all the lands, like the Visigoths and
Burgundians, to be allotted on a tenure of military service.
As Orestes would not grant this, they revolted,
and, wanting to have a ruler who was one of themselves,
proclaimed Odoachar king. He defeated Orestes and
his brother in two battles, and they both of them lost
their lives. Odoachar marched to Ravenna, and Romulus
surrendered to him: he was treated with humanity,
as he received a liberal maintenance, and the Lucullianum
in Campania was assigned to him as his residence.
Whether he died there of a natural death, is
more than we know.
Thus ended the Roman empire.
FINE ARTS AND LITERATURE.
Of the fifth century some buildings are still preserved.
The noble church of St. Paul, although built up by the
robbery of other fabrics, was yet in a grand style, and
put together with much taste: the robbery is described
in a statute of the emperor Majorian who forbade it.
A hundred and fifty years ago, there still existed, in the
church of S. Agata di Goti, a mosaic from which it appeared
that this church was built and dedicated by
Ricimer.
But the history of the Roman nation is not yet run
out, although the Romans have ceased to be a state.
Even literature survives, not only in Rome, but also at
348Ravenna. We have still a number of small detached
poems, epitaphs, inscriptions on churches, many of
which are ingenious and fine: one can see that the
times were not yet barbarous. Boëthius was worthy of
the best ages of literature. To the seventh and the
eighth centuries belong several of the schoolmen who
are left to us; for instance, Acron and Porphyrio. The
Roman law continued to be much more decidedly in
force than is generally believed. A description of the
lingering influence of the Roman mind would be highly
interesting and much to be desired.
C. Acilius, a Roman senator, writes Roman annals, down to the war with Antiochus, i, 23;
his work translated into Latin by a certain Claudius, 23, and ii, 121, 199.
350Acrocorinth occupied by the Romans, ii, 162;
evacuated, 172.
Acta Diurna, a sort of town gazette, which also contained the acts of the senate, i, 9.
Acta Martyrum, spurious, felt quite a particular pleasure in devising and relating the most horrible tortures, ii, 26.
Actiones Repetundarum, for which formerly special quæsitores were appointed, are from the seventh century to be judged according to the common course of law, ii, 297.
Critolaus at the head of affairs in Achæa, ii, 252;
his death, 254.
Crixus, leader in the Servile war, ii, 406.
Cromwell, a great question whether he was an honest fanatic or an impostor, ii, 123; iii, 12;
the title of king had a great charm for him, 76;
wanted always to be guessed, 168.
385Croton, i, 459, destroyed by the Romans, 567;
taken by Hannibal, which completes its ruin, ii, 107;
head-quarters of Hannibal, 134.
Crustumeria, i, 216.
Ctesiphon, near Seleucia, capital of the Parthian kings, iii, 108;
taken by Trajan, 220;
built by the Parthians to humble Seleucia, ii, 254;
taken and sacked by Severus, 254;
by its conquest the empire so much shaken, that its subjects thought of freeing themselves from its yoke, 263;
centre of the Persian empire, 264;
is said to have been taken by Carus, 292;
strongly fortified in Julian’s time, 313.
Cumæ, i, 453;
its earliest history very obscure, 149;
was looked upon as wonderfully old, 150;
Etruscans throw themselves upon it, 214;
destroys the naval power of the Etruscans with the help of Hiero, 342.
Cuman traditions, i, 213.
Cumberland has its name from the Cymri, traces of the Cymric language were found there as late as a hundred years ago, ii, 322.
Curia Hostilia, the sunset was seen from its steps, i, 270.
Curies condemned Manlius to death, pronounced the disgraceful decision between the Ardeates and the people of Aricia, compelled Camillus to go into exile, i, 94;
receive their names from the thirty ravished Sabine maidens, 117;
in Greek φράτραι, unions of clans in certain numerical proportions, 119;
intermediate link between the clans and the tribes, 161;
their turn decided by lot, 162;
it was permitted to get up and to speak in them, 184:
condemn Cassius, 257;
could transact business only on the dies comitiales, 269;
voted VIVA VOCE, 266;
no previous notice needed to be given, 269;
could not do business without a SENATUS CONSULTUM, 269;
meet for the last time, 542;
give their sanction beforehand to the decrees of the centuries, 446;
had originally the right of declaring war and peace, 340.
Curies & Centuries could be convoked only on certain days, i, 322.
Curio, C. Scribonius, highly gifted, is in vain led to better ways by Cicero, iii, 26;
tribune of the people, 49;
bought over by Cæsar, 50;
takes the command in Sicily, 57;
killed in battle in Africa, 57;
falls out with the senate, because he wanted to have a month intercalated for himself, 72;
Cicero assigns to him a high rank as a writer, 127.
M. Curius Dentatus, Roman general against the Sabines, i, 535;
quarrels with the senate, 537;
his poverty, 538;
refuses to take a greater share in the booty, 537;
draining of the lake Velinus, 538;
goes to Etruria, 546;
Roman general in the battle of Beneventum, 568.
M. Curtius belongs to the time of Severus and Caracalla, writes in imitation of Livy, iii, 276, 283.
Curule Dignities, no one should hold two of them at the same time, i, 433;
one could only be re-elected to it after the lapse of ten years, 433.
Curulis magistratus, who was allowed to make use of a carriage, i, 326;
curulis Juno, 329;
CURULIS TRIUMPHUS, 329.
Cyclades, formerly belonging to Egypt, in an unsettled state, ii, 151.
Elections, transferred from the people to the senate, iii, 169.
Elective princes, Newton assigns seventeen years as an average for the reign of each, i, 83.
Eleans, independent and leagued with the Ætolians, ii, 151;
separate state, 163.
Elephants opposed by burning arrows, i, 568;
may have been introduced from India, ii, 23, note;
brought to Rome, 28.
Elis, the history of its constitution offers a close parallel to that of Rome, i, 306, note.
Embassy to Athens to collect the Greek laws, ii, 295, note.
Embolon, ii, 18.
392Embratur (imperator), the highest magistrate of the confederation, i, 422.
Emesa, aerolites which fell in the neighbourhood worshipped, iii, 260;
battle, 286.
Emigrations, if not too extensive, will not weaken a country, iii, 42.
Emissarius of Alba still preserved, i, 108.
Empresses exercised a baleful influence upon morals, iii, 218.
Enchelians, about the fortieth olympiad, burst into Greece, and plunder Delphi, i, 146.
England, the war against France in the year 1793 popular again, then unpopular, then again, in the years 1798 and 1799, popular in the highest degree, i, 475.
English, the English in the colonies learn English, after having in childhood spoken the language of the creoles, iii, 232.
English government claims a veto in the election of the Irish (Roman Catholic) bishops, i, 242;
the Chancellor decides in Equity, 255.
English Rebellion, the Irish Papists and Scotch Presbyterians, overpowered by Cromwell, join the old cavaliers, living abroad with the royal family, i, 225;
the liberties of the Dissenters greater immediately after the revolution than they were twelve or fifteen years before, 225.
Enna, the community slaughtered by the Romans, ii, 116.
Q. Ennius, composes his annals about the commencement of the war with Perseus, i, 23;
division of his work, 23;
accompanies M. Fulvius Nobilior into the Ætolian war, 24;
born in 513, and died 583, 24;
his vanity, 24;
fragments extant bespeak a poetical spirit, 24;
his history of the kings taken from Livy, 24;
his fragments collected by Hieronymus Columna, and Paul Merula, 25;
a Roman citizen, ii, 197;
friend of Scipio Fulvius Nobilior and the first men, 197;
his metres, 198;
introduces the hexameter, 198.
Epagathus, the ringleader of the mutiny against Ulpian, iii, 263.
suffers dreadfully in the war with Cinna, ii, 372.
Latteen sails of the ancients, ii, 39.
Laudationes funebres, i, 11;
owing to them falsifications creep into Roman history, 11;
a tissue of repetitions like the λόγοι ἐπιτάφιοι, 261.
Laurentum alone retains the old fœdus, i, 451.
Lautulæ, insurrection, i, 430;
quelled by Valerius Corvus, 431;
battle, 494.
Lavici, not Labici, 344;
Roman colony, 345.
Lavinium founded by thirty households, i, 109;
a general name for Latium, central point of the Prisci Latini, 109;
keeps faithful to Rome, 390.
Lays, historical, in Roman history, i, 88.
Leagues, a clause in those of the ancients, wherein the contracting parties prescribed to each other the bounds of their intended encroachments upon other nations, i, 412.
Leave of absence, purchased by the Roman soldiers, iii, 157.
Legati Augusti, pro consule, pro prætore, &c., iii, 121.
Legatipro prætore in the imperial provinces, often remained the whole of their lives in the same province, iii, 244.
Leges, the resolutions of the patricians, i, 241.
Leges annales, suspended during the second Punic war, ii, 132;
lex Villia annalis rigorously observed, 239;
those in force in Cicero’s days, dated from the age of Sylla, 239.
Nicopolis, besieged by the Goths, relieved by Decius, iii, 278.
Niebuhr, B. G., his attention directed to Roman history by political affairs, i, 74;
relied too much on Varro’s authority, wherefore he arrived only late at clear views, 103, note;
searches for the old churches in Rome, 122, note;
deemed at first Rome to be an Etruscan colony, 148;
first led to critical researches on Roman history by the jus agrarium, 250;
his researches on Roman topography arisen from the discovery of the spot of the Curia Hostilia, 270, note;
retracts his opinion, first expressed in the first edition of his Roman history, that three envoys had been sent to Athens to collect the Greek laws, 295;
understands the first Punic wars from the campaign of the English in 1812, ii, 9;
takes much trouble to become acquainted with farming in Italy, 273;
makes out the place on the Palatine where Cicero’s house stood, iii, 36;
puts up Cæsar’s Commentaries as subjects for a prize essay, 40;
intended to continue his Roman history down to the institution of the Feriæ Augustæ, 115;
keeps the laurel from the grave of Virgil as a dear relic, 133;
lived in Rome beside the theatre of Marcellus, 149;
on Petronius, 276.
Niebuhr, Carsten, meets in Arabia with positive news of the seven years’ war, i, 469;
conf. d’Anville.
Night marches, people always arrive later than is calculated, i, 568,
Royal races, of the Greek are dissolved into γένη ἀρχικὰ, i, 204.
Royalist party in Rome continued long time after the expulsion of the Tarquinii, i, 225.
Royal dignity, its abolition decreed by a Lex curiata, i, 201.
Rubicon, very likely in the neighbourhood of Cesena, iii, 53.
Q. Rubrius, tribune, ii, 285;
very likely triumvir for the establishing of colonies, 301.
Rufinus, P. Cornelius, covetous, removed from the senate, i, 548.
Rufinus, præfectus prætorio, favourite of Theodosius, iii, 322;
receives the government of the East, 328;
murdered, 328.
Rufus, see Cælius.
Rullus, Servilius, moves for establishing a colony in Capua, iii, 34.
P. Rupilius, consul, puts an end to the servile war in Sicily, ii, 265.
Russia and Persia make war against each other for a couple of months every year on the frontiers of Georgia, i, 350.
Rusticus, Arulenus, writes the life of Pætus Thrasea, iii, 218.
Rusticus, see Fabius.
Rusticus, Junius, tutor of M. Antoninus, iii, 239.
Rutilius, i, 36.
F. Rutilius, legate of Metellus in Africa, ii, 321;
an honest man, but condemned by the evidence of false witnesses, 341.
P. Rutilius Lupus, general against Pompædius Silo, killed in battle, ii, 356.
Rutilus, see Marcius.
Ryckius, Theodore, treatise on Æneas, i, 94.
S
Sabellus and Sabinus, synonymous, except that according to usage the name of Sabellians is given to the whole nation, and that of Sabines to a small district, i, 341;
Sabines in the last half of the third century often seen as enemies of the Romans, 342;
victory of Valerius and Horatius, 342;
isopolity established between them, 342;
emigration towards the South leaves off, 343;
take no active share in the contest of the Romans and Latines, 438;
isopolity, 572;
great part of them receive the full right of citizenship, ii, 185.
Sabines, call themselves aborigines, push on the Opicans, i, 98;
come according to Cato from Amiternum, 99;
unite with the Romans, 118, 122;
454become one of the greatest peoples of Italy, 120;
very likely they came only at a later period into the country afterwards occupied by them, 121;
leagued with Rome under Servius Tullius, 186;
allied with Rome under Sp. Cassius, 248;
war against them, 323;
declare for the Samnites, 534;
conquered, 535.
Sabines, rape of the S., poetical, i, 81.
Sabine chapels on the Quirinal, i, 122.
Sabine town on the Quirinal and Capitolinus, i, 121.
Sabine element in the Roman worship, i, 122.
Sabinus, T. Flavius, brother of Vespasian, præfect of Rome, iii, 200.
Sacchetti, Francesco, novel, i, 67.
Sacra familiarum, unknown to the Romans, i, 161.
Sacra gentilitia, i, 161;
could only be offered in Rome, 263.
Sacramentum, i, 317.
Sacranians, name of the conquering people at the popular migration in Latium, i, 103;
the name explained, 103;
unite with the Siculians under the name of Prisci Latini, 104.
Sacriportus, battle, ii, 381.
Sacrovir, Julius, rising against Tiberius, iii, 202.
Sæcula of the Etruscans, two sorts of them, i, 83;
astronomical ones of a hundred and ten years, 83;
nearly correspond to a hundred thirty years of ten months, 84;
physical sæculum, 84.
Sagax, his continuation of Eutropius, i, 66.
Saguntum, Livy fancies that it lay East of the Ebro, ii, 69;
Polybius knows nothing of the fact that it was to remain independent, 69;
its siege did not happen in the year 534, but in 533, 71;
was perhaps not purely Iberian, but Tyrrhenian, 71;
the derivation from Zacynthus probably originated only from its name, 71;
conquered, destroyed by the inhabitants themselves, 72.
Sailors, levied from the capite censi, ii, 33.
Salapia, an Apulian town, taken by Hannibal, recovered by the Romans, ii, 120.
Swabia was not a German country, has become so only by the Alemanni, iii, 152;
little war in the days of Nerva, 216.
Swabians, partly called Sueves, and partly Alemanni, dwell on the Maine, iii, 277;
break through the Limes and take possession of what is now Swabia, 280.
465Swinburne gives a satisfactory description of the ground of the battle of Cannæ, ii, 100.
Switzerland, whenever danger threatened from abroad the aristocratical cantons mild to their country districts, otherwise harsh and cruel to them, i, 225;
growing prosperity at the time of the Thirty Years’ war, 459;
the office of Bailiff sold in the smaller cantons, ii, 7.
4. There is a story that Cicero, when going to Rhodes, consulted the
Delphian oracle concerning his life, and that the Pythia replied, that
he ought not to trouble himself about the opinion of others but always
to follow his own. If this be an invention, it was devised by a man of
profound penetration; if the Pythia said it, it is one of those cases in
which one feels tempted to believe in her inspiration.
7. It is remarkable, that of Cæsar not one witty saying indeed is recorded,
whilst of Cicero an immense number are known, all of which
have a particular stamp, so that their genuineness is not to be doubted.
8. This unaccountable expression is found in the MSS., and therefore I
did not choose to suppress it. Milo was, as is well known, from Lanuvium,
and had been adopted into the family of the Annii; but in
fact he was sprung from the gens Papia. The epithet Syllanian seems to
refer to his marriage with Fausta, the daughter of the dictator Sylla.—Germ.
Ed.
12. V. Id. Sextil. consequently on August 9th, according to the Kalendar.
Amiternin. in Foggini p. 112. 153. Not having access to the book
itself, I have borrowed the quotation from Fischer’s Römische Zeittafeln,
p. 278. Orelli (Inscript. II, p. 397) agrees with it.—Germ. Ed.
13. Licinus was a barber, an upstart who had amassed an immense
fortune, and had caused himself to be splendidly buried.
14. When Dio Cassius, XLIII, 47, says, ὥστε καὶ ἐννακοσίους τὸ
κεφάλαιον αὐτῶν γενέσθαι, he does not mean by it a regularly fixed
amount, but an accidental maximum.—Germ. Ed.
15. The same friendly affection Cicero had shown also to Virgil, of
whom he is said to have used the expression, Magnæ spes altera Romæ:
Virgil, at the death of Cicero, was twenty-six years old. (Donat. vit.
Virgil. XI.)
16. The other prætorships were unimportant, their occupants being
mere chairmen of the courts of justice.
17. Against Demosthenes also similar calumnies were uttered, and the
lines (Plut. Demosth. c. 30),
Εἴπερ ἴσην ῥώμην γνώμη, Δημόσθενες, εἶχες,
Οὔποτ’ ἂν Ἑλλήνων ἦρξεν Ἄρης Μακεδών,
have been misrepresented, as having reference to it.
18. Posthumous Works, XIII, 68., “How little even the better men
among them (the Romans) understood what government means, may
be seen from the most absurd deed, which was ever done, even from
the murder of Cæsar.”
21. According to Cic. Brut. c. 64. and 94. Hortensius had made his
first speech in the consulship of L. Crassus, and Q. Scævola (657 according
to Cato), ten years before the birth of Brutus, who was therefore
born in 667, and as he died in 710, must have been in his forty-fourth
year. The other statement is that of Velleius Paterculus.—Germ. Ed.
is to be dated either from the time when Domitius Ahenobarbus united
with Asinius Pollio (712), or more likely somewhat later, when Sextus
Pompey made peace with the triumvirs, 713, Horace being then twenty-five
years old. The punctuation in the edition of Lambinus is incorrect
in the passage
Cum fracta virtus et minaces
Turpe solum tetigere mento.
There ought to be a comma after minaces, and a note of admiration
after turpe, which is not an adjective but an adverb, according to the
Horatian usage. The passage refers to those who in their flight stumble
and fall.
25. In several manuscripts, there is here only a very short reference to
the Fasti Prænestini; but as these do not contain the month of August,
I conjecture that the Kalendarium Amiterninum is meant (Orellii
II, p. 397), where it is stated, Feriæ ex S. C. Q(uod) E(o) D(ie) Cæsar
Divi F. Rempublic(am) tristissim ... periculo liberat.—Germ. Ed.
30. Here there seems to be some mistake. The passage of Quintilian,
X, 1, 115, runs as follows, Inveni qui Calvum præferrent omnibus, inveni
qui Ciceroni crederent, eum nimia contra se calumnia verum sanguinem
perdidisse: sed est et sancta et gravis oratio et custodita et frequenter vehemens
quoque. On the other hand, in the Dial. de Orat. c. 18. Sunt enim
(antiqui) horridi et impoliti et rudes, et informes et quos utinam nulla parte
imitatus esset Calvus vester, aut Cælius, aut ipse Cicero! And Legistis utique
et Calvi et Bruti ad Ciceronem missas epistolas, ex quibus facile est deprehendere,
Calvum quidem Ciceroni visum exsanguem et attritum—rursumque
Ciceronem e Calvo quidem male audivisse tanquam solutum et enervem.
In those writings of Cicero which are still extant, there occur
two larger passages, Brut. c. 82, Epist. ad Famil. XV, 21, 5, where Calvus
indeed is judged with great leniency, but is certainly not spoken of
with unqualified praise.—Germ. Ed.
31. Should Seneca perhaps be meant here? conf. Gell. XII, 2.—Germ.
Ed.
32. Weichert Poet. Lat. Rel. p. 361, not. 20.—Germ. Ed.
39. Here ended the winter lectures on Roman history, April 1st 1829.
Those which follow on the history of the emperors, were delivered in
the following summer one hour every week; which accounts sufficiently
for their greater conciseness—Germ. Ed.
42. This name is supplied by conjecture. N. very likely had said of the
sun and the moon: one MS. has “of Apollo and ...” (here follows an
illegible name). The emendation is correct beyond a doubt, according
to Descript. of Rome III, 1, 104.—Germ. Ed.
43. Posthumous Works, vol. XIII. p. 68. “The Romans, from a narrow,
moral, easy, comfortable, bourgeois state had risen to the broad
range of the dominion of the world, without losing their narrow-mindedness.—To
the same source we may trace their luxury. Underbred
men who acquire a great fortune, will always make a ridiculous use of
it: their pleasures, their pomp, their profusion, will be absurd and overdone.
Hence also arises that fondness for the Strange, the Innumerable,
the Immense. Their theatres which turn round with the spectators;
the second population of statues, with which the town was
thronged, as well as the gigantic bowl in after times, in which the large
fish was to be kept entire, are all of the same origin: even the insolence
and cruelty of their tyrants mostly partakes of the absurd.”
44. The so-called Marforio. See Descript. of the city of Rome, III, 1.
p. 138.—Germ. Ed.
47. 195 palms, according to Platner in Bansen’s Description of the City
of Rome, III, 1. p. 289. 10 Palmi = 99 Parisian Lines.—Conf. however,
on this matter, Platner and Urlich’s Description of Rome. Stuttg. and
Tüb. 1845, pp. 24, 25.—Germ. Ed.
48. N. namely reads instead of laudati essent, capitale fuisse, laudati capitales
fuissent; and previously, in c. 1. instead of at mihi nunc, at mihi
nuper. See “Two classical Latin Writers of the Third Century, P. C.”
(Kleine historische und philolog. Schriften I, p. 331.)—Germ. Edit.
49. Any one who writes High German, must feel that phrases and words
are wanting, for which the popular dialect has very apt expressions,
only they are not used in High German. This is most keenly felt by
an inhabitant of Lower Saxony, as in Upper Germany people write very
nearly as they speak.
51. Alfieri, in one of his pieces, makes Pliny address a speech to Trajan
in which he calls upon him to restore the republic.
52. Three months and six days, according to Dio Cassius.—Germ. Ed.
53. Laurentum, according to Herodian I. 12. 1.—Germ. Ed.
54. In Rome there is an amulet which has not been described before, a
silver plate with magic inscriptions, having on it the silver candlestick
of Jerusalem and the usual Christian monogram. It is in Greek,
mingled with quite barbarous words in an unintelligible language.
There is written on it, that he who wore this plate, was sure of being
in favour with gods and men. This medley of Christianity, Judaism,
and paganism, is of particularly frequent occurrence in the beginning
of the third century of the Christian era.
55. In the dissertation “Two Classical Latin Authors of the Third
Century, P. C.” (Lesser Historical and Philological Writings, I. p. 321)—Germ.
Edit.
56. One of the Scriptores Historiæ Augustæ (Vit. Maximin. jun. c. 7.)
is as ignorant as to make Maximus and Pupienus two different persons.
57. In Schmitz II, 320, this passage is given in the following version,
“if he had been a Bedouin, he could not have been enlisted in a Roman
legion, but would have remained in the cohorts of the Ituræi.” As
my sources already begin to be more scanty, and in the ancients themselves
very few notices are to be found, from which one might arrive at
a correct opinion, I feel particularly bound to quote here this variation.—Germ.
Ed.
58. Schmitz has Jotapianus, whereas my MSS., one and all, give the
right version.—Germ. Ed.
59. According to the Fasti consulares, C. Messius Quintus Trajanus Decius.—Germ.
Ed.
60. In some MSS., Cassianius, which form Eckhel lays down as the
correct one.—Germ. Edit.
61. The MSS. give Ælianus and Lælianus, both forms, as is well known,
being found of these names.—Germ. Ed.
62. X, 9. Niebuhr, Two Classical Writers, &c. (Lesser Histor. and Philol.
Writings, I, p. 304. sqq).—Germ. Ed.
64. A mistake for Florianus, Quintilius being brother to Claudius Gothicus.—Germ.
Ed.
65. Review (Zeitschrift) on Historical Jurisprudence. VI. 323. Conf. XI.
20. Walter’s History of the Roman Law (Römische Rechtsgeschichte), I.
p. 483. 2d edition.—Germ. Ed.