Julius Caesar (24 page)

It was probably on the morning of 10 January 49 that Caesar heard of the senate’s decision (it took three days to cover the 140 miles between Rome and Ravenna). He had at the moment only his one legion, whereas Pompey had the two at Capua and was mobilizing the resources of Italy and the Empire. Caesar had to move fast and—fortunately for him—this ability, which had proved itself so valuable in Gaul, remained one of his greatest assets. Pompey, a slightly older man, had never felt the necessity in his eastern campaigns for the mercurial flexibility that Caesar had required against untried enemies in unknown countries. Any doubts Caesar may have had in the preceding weeks were resolved by now. The news from the senate that he had been declared an enemy of the state was unknown as yet to his men; so too the fact that the two tribunes (whose persons were supposed to be sacrosanct) had fled the city. His dispositions were all made. Two experienced legions were on their way from Gaul, as well as twenty-two new cohorts, while the three legions in the south of the province guarded his western flank against any attack by Pompey’s supporters in Spain. Many legends were later to surround all the circumstances of that fateful day, and both Plutarch and Suetonius have their own accounts, which, though they vary in details, present the same overall picture. Suetonius writes as follows:

When the news came that the veto of the tribunes had been disallowed and that they themselves had fled the city, he immediately sent a few cohorts ahead with all secrecy, and disarmed suspicion by appearing at a public show, inspecting the plans of a gladiatorial school which he proposed building, and dining as usual with a number of guests. After sunset he set out very secretly with some members of his staff, having borrowed the mules from a nearby baker’s shop and harnessed them to a small carriage. When the lights went out, he lost his way and they wandered aimlessly for some time, until at last at dawn they found a guide who led them back on foot by narrow lanes until they reached the road. Caesar overtook his advance guard at the boundary of his province, the river Rubicon, which formed the frontier between Italy and Gaul. Well aware of what a step he was taking he paused a while and then turned to his staff, saying: “We may still draw back, but once across that little bridge and the issue rests with the sword.”

Appian, on unknown authority, has him hesitate at this moment, while Plutarch, basing his account on Asinius Pollio, an intimate of Caesar’s who was present at the time, also has him debate what calamities his crossing the river might bring upon the human race. But such hesitation as there may have been was clearly momentary. With the gambler’s cry “The die is cast!” or, in another account, with the words from Menander, his favorite Greek poet, “Let the dice fly high!” he gestured forward across the river.

The Rubicon (now called the Fiumicino, little river or stream) was nothing in itself; it was what it represented. By taking his army across the boundary between his province and the Italian homeland, Caesar was breaking a Sullan law which forbade governors to do just this, for the great dictator had foreseen the dangers to the state from ambitious commanders. Caesar was now guilty of the very treason of which he had already been accused.

24

Civil War

ONE legion was little enough with which to invade a country and attack an empire. There must have been those in Rome who, knowing the situation, felt confident that Caesar would never dare to move—at least until he had been reinforced from Gaul, by which time Pompey would have more than adequate forces to deal with him. But Pompey had seen no active service since 62; he was now in his fifties; his life since 60 had been lived in Rome, and he had recently been seriously ill. Most important of all, although he boasted that he could call on ten legions, except for the two Caesar had sent him from Gaul, the only troops available in Italy were unseasoned recruits, and his own veterans from the Eastern wars retired to their farms and small holdings.

After crossing into Italy Caesar’s legion, divided into two columns of five cohorts each, struck southeast toward Ariminum (Rimini) on the Adriatic coast and due south at Arretium (Arezzo) the heart of Etruria, the first column under Caesar and the second under Antony. There was no opposition to Caesar when he arrived at Ariminum, where he addressed the troops and explained the circumstances under which he had been compelled to invade the homeland. His rhetorical skill was not wasted upon soldiers who were in any case attached to him, and who knew of Pompey only as some general who years ago had been victorious against decadent kings and leaders in the East. Caesar successfully played upon the fact that Pompey represented the men who were most remote from ordinary soldiers—the kind of senators they had heard of but never seen near a battlefield—and that Pompey himself was “a leader enervated by a long peace.” Their indignation at the treatment that had been accorded to the tribunes by the senate in Rome (although no one had ever laid a hand upon them) and the fact that they had sought shelter with Caesar was enough to allay any qualms they may have had about invading Italy. Their general, and the sacrosanct officials, had been wronged by those insolent senators in Rome—that was quite enough for any simple soldier who probably, like most servicemen throughout history, had little time for politicians and civilians.

As soon as it was known that Caesar’s forces had occupied Ariminum, the gates of other cities, as Plutarch records, were opened wide. There was no opposition, and by mid-January Arretium had been occupied as well as Ancona, south from Ariminum on the Adriatic. Caesar’s purpose in sending a flying column down the coast was to cut off Pompey from the sea, for he knew well enough that Pompey, if he did not stand and fight, would try and escape to the east by sea. There was instant panic when the news of the fall of these two cities reached Rome within a day or two. Not since Hannibal had come storming over the Alps over a century and a half before had Rome been in such a state, the inhabitants from outlying cities fleeing in to add to the confusion while the adherents of Pompey were either blaming him for not foreseeing this eventuality or taking to their heels for their country estates. Two envoys from the senate had meanwhile been sent to Caesar at Ariminum, where he maintained his headquarters, conveying to him the instructions which had become invalid from the moment he moved into Italy. Privately they brought him a message from Pompey in which he maintained that the present situation was not of his making and asked Caesar to place the interests of the republic above his own. Caesar replied with a statement of his grievances and the conditions for his retiring within the boundary of his province. These were unacceptable, including, as they did, the demand that after both had disbanded their troops Pompey should retire to his province of Spain. In any case, by the time that the envoys had made their way back to Rome they found that Pompey had already left, as had the consuls, the senators and many of the people. Before this exodus Pompey had been roundly abused for his lack of foresight and energy, and mocked by a supporter of Cato who had called upon him to “strike the ground with his foot now” and call up his legions.

As town after town opened its gates to Caesar, and as there was no opposition, his invasion with only a few thousand men was an astonishing success. Among the rich and powerful there was an overwhelming feeling that they should have accepted Caesar’s conditions—that they should still accept them—and even Cato seems to have believed that submission was better than civil war. But, although his lightning advance had so far succeeded, Caesar cannot have been entirely happy about the situation. He knew that Pompey, even if he continued to retreat in Italy, would probably follow the example of Sulla and attempt to recover Italy from the east, where all the legions were at his command, as were those of Spain. He would thus be in the position of being able to attack Italy from both quarters. Furthermore, it cannot have pleased Caesar that he had been forced into committing a treasonable act and that now, with the senate having fled from Rome, he could not deal with the legitimate government but must appear in the eyes of all respectable citizens as no more than a revolutionary.

At this moment he was disturbed by the news that Labienus had gone over to the other camp and had placed himself at Pompey’s disposal. This was not entirely a surprise, for Caesar had suspected for some time that his lieutenant had become jealous of him and wanted to be his equal, if no more. But Labienus could certainly give Pompey and his supporters a lot of invaluable information about the state of Caesar’s troops: how many were available in Gaul and details of his supply position. Meanwhile the advance rolled on effortlessly, towns and hamlets declaring themselves open to Caesar’s forces. In the few places where enemies of Caesar attempted to rally people against him the consensus of public opinion was that he deserved well of his country and that they should show no resistance. The absurdity of the military position was that Caesar, with only ten cohorts divided up into flying columns, was rolling up Italy before him, and that behind those advancing spearheads he had nothing whatsoever…

Meanwhile Pompey had withdrawn to the region of Capua in Campania. It seems clear that he had already decided to withdraw from Italy altogether and to fight from the East, for wherever troops of his had been left behind in garrisons they were always ordered to retire at the approach of any of Caesar’s forces. Rumors were rampant that a large fleet was being prepared for Pompey at Brundisium (Brindisi) to take his army to Greece or some unknown destination in the East. This was something that did not appeal to most of the soldiers, and the steady influx of deserters to Caesar’s camp suggests that Pompey’s overall strategy was entirely wrong. The continued retreat in front of the invading forces, without giving battle at any time, was very bad for morale, as was the rumored evacuation. Pompey’s great weakness was that he had been out of command for too long, and that all his successes had been in the East. He was somewhat like a nineteenth-century “old India Hand” in the British Army, dreaming always of other campaigns in another country.

Caesar had by now been reinforced by the first of the fresh troops from Transalpine Gaul, the Twelfth Legion, and could continue with renewed confidence, having twenty cohorts to deal with a force that seemed to be dissolving before him. Early in February he had gained control of Picenum, a narrow strip of Adriatic coastline where his feeling of success must have been heightened by the fact that it was an area which came under the patronage of Pompey himself—although that did not prevent the citizens from inviting Caesar into their towns and many of the legionaries coming over to his side. Only in one place did it look as if he might face resistance and this was the fortified town of Corfinium in the Abruzzi, where some nineteen cohorts were assembled under the command of his bitter enemy, L. Domitius Ahenobarbus. Despite Pompey’s orders for him to withdraw and join him at Brundisium, the rich and powerful Domitius, prompted by his hatred of Caesar and confident in the fact that he was the greatest landowner in the area and should be able to count on the loyalty of the local people, decided to resist. Feeling that he had sufficient troops to meet Caesar’s and that the defenses of Corfinium would defeat him, he was strengthened in his decision not to yield by the fact that he was the appointed successor to Caesar as the new governor of Gaul. A number of other politicians, senators and members of the equestrian order shared his views and decided to stay. Domitius sent a message to Pompey appealing to him to come to the aid of Corfinium, but the general was intent only on getting his forces out of Italy to Greece and by the time that his reply to Domitius arrived—urging him to do as he was told and not risk a siege—Caesar’s troops had surrounded the town. Reinforced from Gaul, he had Corfinium completely cut off, and it was only a week before the troops inside the walls decided to abandon Domitius and hand him over to Caesar. Fifty prisoners in all were brought before him, not only Domitius but Publius Lentulus Spinther, the consul of 57 and one-time ally of Caesar, as well as Optimate senators who had consistently opposed him and who, knowing his record from Gaul, cannot have been hopeful that they would be shown any mercy. Caesar, to their complete astonishment, set them all at liberty. They were free to go as they pleased, to join Pompey if they wished, and even a large sum of money which had been deposited in the city treasury for the payment of Pompey’s troops was handed over. The legionaries in the town who had revolted against these leaders all now offered Caesar their oath of fidelity and were accepted into his army. Domitius and the others, all with profuse expressions of thanks, accepted their freedom—and went off to continue to fight against him.

The clemency of Corfinium had its desired effect and even Cicero, who was nervously hesitating about coming to a decision, could not fail to realize what Caesar had achieved by this totally unexpected act. In a letter which he probably expected to be widely copied and read Caesar wrote: “History proves that nothing is earned by cruelty but hatred… Why should we not arm ourselves with generosity and compassion as our weapons?” The sophisticated and the cynical might still distrust him, but it soon became clear that soldiers felt differently. Nine cohorts which were being withdrawn from various places to join Pompey at Brundisium deserted their officers and made their way to Caesar’s camp. Cicero, still inclined toward Pompey because of his distrust of Caesar, commented in a letter to his friend Atticus:

Do you see what a man the Republic is up against, his foresight, his alertness, his readiness? If he kills no one and takes nothing away from anyone, I guess he will be most loved by those who formerly were most afraid of him.