Julius Caesar (4 page)

While on its way toward Miletus, however, Caesar’s vessel was captured by some of the pirates who infested the sea coast of Asia Minor, and who would continue to prove a curse on the imperial shipping routes until removed by the great Pompey. The crew probably went overboard but the obviously important young Roman—traveling with a staff of a physician and two personal servants—was taken as a hostage. Although it has been constantly quoted in nearly all biographies, the account by Plutarch is so revealing of Caesar’s character that some of it must be given here: “When these men at first demanded of him twenty talents for his ransom, he laughed at them for not understanding the value of their prisoner, and voluntarily engaged to give them fifty.”

Caesar was quite happy to do this, for he did not have to produce the money himself. Since they appeared not to be able to keep order in their territories, and since the pirates were obviously drawn from their own people and their cities flourished from this very piracy, the inhabitants of coastal Asia Minor were under a strict obligation to Rome to secure the release of any Roman citizen captured in their vicinity and, where necessary, to provide the ransom money.

Having sent off messengers to inform the local governors of the capture of so important a Roman citizen, Caesar, his doctor and their two servants settled down to wait. The accounts that we have of this period are usually believed to derive from a report written by his physician, which was later used by both Plutarch and Suetonius and by the earlier historian Velleius Paterculus. According to Plutarch “he was left among some of the most bloodthirsty people in the world…yet he made so little of them that, when he had a mind to sleep, he would send for them, and order them to make no noise.” Paterculus, our earliest authority, has it that he induced among them “as much fear as respect,” but also mentions how careful Caesar was not to do anything that might make his jailers suspect him of plotting to escape. It was unlikely in any case that he could have done so: it was winter and any small boats would have been hauled up ashore under the pirates’ watchful eyes. “For thirty-eight days,” writes Plutarch, “with time on his hands, he played and exercised with them, wrote verses and speeches which he read to them, and if they did not admire them sufficiently would call them ignorant barbarians. Apparently in jest, he would threaten to hang them.”

When the ransom finally arrived Caesar and his fellow-prisoners embarked and returned to Miletus. The pirates thought no doubt that that was the last they would hear of this seemingly rich young Roman: people who had escaped from such a dangerous situation hardly, if ever, ventured into that area again. But they had reckoned without Caesar. What they had taken for a jest was more than earnest. On arrival at Miletus—only a short sail or “pull” away—Caesar at once raised several ships, their crews (possibly pirates themselves), no doubt on the basis of “no cure, no pay.” Despite his pretense of relaxed geniality, he had clearly been infuriated by his detention. It was winter; the island (probably the larger of two in this area, and one which has a good harbor) would have been barren and bone-chilling. Also, and he was to remain so all his life, he was an authoritarian, a strict believer that civilization could only be maintained by the exercise of discipline over all the anarchic forces which would destroy it.

While the pirates were still engaged upon their “Treasure Island,” Caesar returned. The lean, apparently soft and somewhat effeminate young man was transformed into an eagle of vengeance. In what appears to have been a miniature sea-battle—the pirates attempting to escape as soon as the other vessels were sighted—several of their boats were sunk and the crews of the others all surrendered. Both ashore, and in the vessels that remained afloat, Caesar had recaptured not only the money that had been advanced by the neighboring cities for his ransom but everything else that the pirates had stored away on Pharmacussa. His visit to Bithynia had—temporarily—been postponed, but he had acquired a small fortune which, even after the expenses of the expedition had been met and the ransom money returned to the cities from which it had come, should still yield a handsome profit to the man who had initiated the destruction of the pirates’ nest and the capture of their loot and their leaders.

The captured pirates were taken to Pergamos, where the governor of Asia Minor, Marcus Juncus, normally resided. Finding that he was away settling the affairs of Bithynia, Caesar followed him there. To his disgust he found that the governor, “having an eye to their wealth, which was considerable,” was unwilling to give an immediate decision on the fate of the prisoners. Indeed, he said that he would rather sell them than execute them as this would be of benefit to the treasury. Velleius Paterculus refers to the governor as “no less envious than cowardly.” He was envious perhaps because of the wealth which would accrue to Caesar, but “cowardly” is difficult to explain. It seems unlikely that the governor feared that friends of the captured men might take revenge upon him if they were executed, unless, of course, he had been working hand in glove with the pirates operating off his coastline. Such a thing is not impossible, for the behavior of many Roman governors and generals at this stage in the empire was often far more reprehensible than simple collusion.

Caesar took matters into his own hands and returned at once to Pergamos. Before the governor’s instructions to proceed with the sale of the pirates had arrived, he, acting on his own initiative, had fulfilled his promise to the pirates and had them crucified.

Having settled his affairs in Bithynia, and enriched by his share of the pirates’ plunder, Caesar now proceeded to pay that visit to Rhodes which is usually given as his reason for being in the East at all. But he can have had little time to benefit from his stay with the eloquent Apollonius Molon, for almost immediately the third war initiated by King Mithridates broke out, this time brought about by the fact that Mithridates refused to accept the will of Nicomedes bequeathing Bithynia to Rome. Hearing that some of the King’s forces had broken into the province of Asia, Caesar immediately—acting on his own account and without any orders—crossed over from Rhodes to the mainland and either raised his own forces or took charge of the local militia. With these troops under his command he drove the enemy out of the province: a remarkable action for so young a man and one which once again showed his dash and initiative.

Caesar’s time in Greece and the Aegean and Asia Minor, as a young man in his middle twenties, showed all the hallmarks of his later career. He was first and foremost a politician, had a natural bent for the military life, was financially unscrupulous, and would tolerate no man standing in his way or threatening his path to power.

4

Politics and Money

IN the year 73, while Caesar was a staff officer in Asia Minor with the congenial duty of helping to remove the pirate menace from the eastern Mediterranean, he learned that his uncle, Gaius Cotta, had died. This left a vacancy in the College of Pontiffs, and Caesar, aged only twenty-six, had been nominated to fill it. It was an important step forward in his career, and it is not surprising that he immediately set out for Italy. Once again it is noticeable that, although he thrived on the active military life, he was always willing to abandon it the moment that some political advantage beckoned from Rome. The College of Pontiffs, which had been established very early in Roman history to watch over the preservation of religious observance and orthodoxy, had none of the disadvantages of his previous dalliance with the priesthood and all the advantages of one of the most exclusive clubs in the capital city. While non-political, it offered a privileged position in ruling circles and, to the right man at the right time, the ultimate and attractive prospect of aspiring to the office of
pontifex maximus,
the pagan Pope of Rome. There can be no doubt that Caesar’s family connections had been more than helpful in securing him this nomination, while his winning the civic crown at Mitylene and the commendation of his commander also probably played their part.

Having made the crossing from Asia Minor, or Rhodes, to Greece, Caesar then crossed the Adriatic in a small boat of only four oars, manned by ten slaves and accompanied by two friends. Years later, in 49, at the height of his battle for the Roman world, he was to attempt to repeat the journey in somewhat similar fashion—only to be defeated by the weather. On this occasion, however, the crossing was successful, although at one moment there was an alarm.

On the way over he thought he saw pirate ships and immediately took off his clothes presumably to swim for it rather than be captured yet again and fastened a dagger to his side. He soon realized he was mistaken and that what he had taken for the masts of ships was a row of trees coming up on the horizon.

(A nice touch by Velleius Paterculus)

On arrival in Rome, confirmed in his office by the College of Pontiffs, his ambition spurred him to make use of his military service and his civic crown to apply for the office of military tribune, twenty-four of whom were nominated annually. He was elected in 73 but did not assume his rank until the year after his return to Italy. The office did not necessarily imply active service in the field, but was often concerned solely with military organization and staff work at home, and the engagement only lasted for six months. But the holder was entitled to be called “Military Tribune of the People” for life, and the office was often an early step on the political ladder for young men of good family.

The significance of the office of the tribunes had been largely abolished by the dictator Sulla, who had forbidden them from publicly addressing meetings of the people, one of their ancient rights. Caesar was foremost among those who sought to restore these privileges, once again openly demonstrating that he took his stand with the popular party. (Three years later all restrictions on the tribunate were lifted.) All our Latin sources mention Caesar’s election to military tribune because this post was filled by popular vote. It was the first office in which the people had shown their favor toward Caesar. In the year 70, Plautius, one of the tribunes, laid a bill before the people to grant an amnesty to all those followers of Marius and Cinna who had been exiled during the Sullan regime. Again the
Populates
were seen to be in the ascendant, and Caesar himself spoke out—for the first time—to the Roman people, advocating the amnesty and mentioning his brother-in-law Lucius Cinna who was among those who had been banished. The return of all these exiled followers of Marius immeasurably strengthened the popular party, and marked the turn of the political tide.

But Caesar’s life in Rome was far from being that of a totally dedicated politician. Indeed many of his future opponents assumed that he was a political lightweight because of his luxurious style of living and his constant pursuit of women. One of the reasons for his popularity with women was undoubtedly his elegance and charm—something which, one suspects, was singularly lacking in most Roman husbands. (Cicero has a scathing reference to the meticulous arrangement of Caesar’s hair and his habit of adjusting his parting with one finger.) But his womanizing, though it may have infuriated some members of his own class (for obvious reasons), can only have amused the masses while he endeared himself to them by his extravagant expenditure.

Plutarch writes on this score:

He was so profuse in his expenses, that before he had any public employment, he was in debt thirteen hundred talents. [Impossible to calculate in the shifting values of modern currencies, but many thousands of pounds sterling.] Many thought that by incurring such expense to be popular, he changed a solid good for what would prove but a short and uncertain return; but in truth he was purchasing what was of the greatest value at an inconsiderable rate. When he was made surveyor of the Appian way, he disbursed, besides the public money, a great sum out of his private purse; and when he was aedile (magistrates superintending trade, money, streets and buildings, the games etc.) he provided such a number of gladiators, that he entertained the people with three hundred and twenty single combats, and by his great liberality and magnificence in theatrical shows, in processions, and public feastings, he threw into the shade all the attempts that had been made before him, and gained so much upon the people, that every one was eager to find out new offices and new honors for him in return for his munificence.

Between the years 72-70 Caesar disappears from the view of his ancient biographers. Some of his subsequent biographers have found it impossible to believe that during this period he was inactive, for these were the years of the great revolt of the slaves under Spartacus, when this former Thracian bandit was leading an army which ravaged Italy and two consuls and one Roman army after another were defeated. Yet we can be very sure that his biographers would have been quick to tell us if he had been in any way involved, since they detail much more trivial parts of his life. It would seem that Caesar, now rising thirty, was absorbed by indolence and luxury, only disturbed by a passion for internal politics and in laying the foundations for his future career by what amounted to bribing the masses. It may well be that at this time in his life he was making amends to himself for his hard years under Sulla and his self-exile in the eastern empire at a time when most young men of his class were enjoying the pleasures of Rome.

Certainly, he did not stint himself now, and tales of his wild extravagance lulled to rest any fears there may ever have been among the
Optimates
that Caesar was another Marius. Abstemious with regard to drink, he also seems to have been more or less indifferent to the quality of food, but he was a passionate collector of every form of art: gems, statues, carvings, and paintings by the masters. Suetonius writes that, “so high were the prices he paid for slaves of attainments and good character that he was ashamed of his extravagance and would not have the sums put down in his accounts.” He was a connoisseur of pearls, particularly of the fresh water variety (later given as one of his reasons for invading Britain where they were said to be plentiful). He gave Servilia, the mother of Marcus Brutus so prominent among his murderers, a pearl of almost inestimable value—60,000 gold pieces—and she is described as “the woman whom Caesar loved best.” (It is possible that he was Brutus’ father.) But he loved many, and Suetonius lists a number of the wives of the nobility whom he seduced at one time or another, among them those of most of his friends, including Pompey, Crassus and Gabinius—and that at a time when they were the leaders of the party to which he subscribed and whose goodwill he needed. This “descendant of Venus” seems to have had a nature as passionate as the goddess herself, though even more contradictory. Sir Charles Oman summed up this aspect of his life: “He was the inevitable co-respondent in every fashionable divorce, and when we look at the list of the ladies whose names are linked with his, we can only wonder at the state of society in Rome which permitted him to survive unscathed to middle age. The marvel is that he did not end in some dark corner, with a dagger between his ribs long before he attained the age of thirty.”