The Comic History of Rome Part 24

The fact is, that Rome had become so thoroughly tired of the continual contests for the chief power, which a republican form of government necessarily invites, that the nation yearned for a permanent head, and eagerly adopted the very first that offered. It was thought better to be the slaves of one despotic adventurer, than the victims of half-a-dozen; and even absolutism was preferred to the republican system, which had kept the country so long exposed to laceration at the hands of those who were trying to s.n.a.t.c.h it from each other, without being able to govern it.

After a short stay in Rome, during which he exhibited his power by making various arbitrary changes in the Law and Const.i.tution--for it is the tendency of a republic to place a whole nation at the will of one man--Caesar proceeded to Africa, with the view of quelling there the party opposed to him. He marched against Utica, which was governed by Cato, who, when he ought to have been preparing to fight, was standing upon ceremony, and politely insisting that Scipio ought to take the command, as being the man of the highest rank present. Scipio, who was not ambitious of the foremost place in the field, declared that the pretended deference to his rank was rank nonsense, and that Cato must a.s.sume his proper position. The Governor, however, persisted; and Scipio went forth to fight; but he seems to have killed n.o.body except himself, while Juba and the legate Petreius, two other brave fellows on the same side, slew each other.

Cato, trembling for the fate of Utica, called a meeting of the Senate, which resolved unanimously to run away; and the Governor went home to supper. On retiring to his chamber he called for his sword, which was nowhere to be found; and he became so irritated, that he savagely struck the domestic who returned without the missing weapon. At length it turned out that "one of the young gentlemen had got it;" for the sword was brought to Cato by his eldest son, and it was quietly put away for the night under the old gentleman's pillow. Cato went to bed, and fell asleep while reading one of Plato's dialogues. Waking again at dawn, he rose, and having methodically finished the perusal of the dialogue he had commenced over-night, he ran himself through the body. His attendants rushed in, and sewed up the wound; but they had no sooner turned their backs, than--if we are to believe the authorities, which we confess we cannot at all times--he either undid the numerous st.i.tches in his side, or ran himself through the body again; and, with a compliment in his mouth to the excellence of the reasoning of Plato, expired.

Cato was only eight-and-forty at the time of his death; and therefore, though in the course of nature too young to die, he was quite old enough to have known better than to kill himself. The graver historians inform us, that "he died the death of a hero and a philosopher;" but being unable to appreciate the heroism of running away from misfortune, instead of meeting it, or the philosophy of refusing to endure what one cannot cure, we must beg to be allowed to differ from the serious writers, who generally hold up suicide as a subject for respect and admiration. Caesar was, of course, deeply affected on hearing of Cato's decease; but such affectation was common in those days; and there was nothing extraordinary in Caesar's having gone into mourning for the man whose death he had long been compa.s.sing.

The victorious general now returned to Rome, where he might have obtained as long a lease as he pleased of almost unlimited power. He was named Dictator for ten years; and, instead of pursuing the ordinary practice of tyranny, which abuses the greatest power to gratify the pettiest spite, Caesar not only made no proscriptions, but declared a general amnesty. He celebrated four triumphs, and gave a succession of banquets; for he knew that there is no more portentous grumbling than that which proceeds from an empty stomach.

Being entrusted with supreme power, he turned it, in many instances, to good account; and introduced, among other wholesome regulations, the very valuable reform of the Roman Calendar. This was an improvement, not merely for the day, but for all time, and has handed down the name of its author to every age, and every civilised country, in every almanack.

In these and similar salutary occupations he was disturbed by an insurrection in Spain, headed by the two sons of Pompey, Cneius and s.e.xtus, whom he encountered, on Sat.u.r.day, the 17th of March, B.C. 45, on the field of Munda. The battle, though ultimately decisive, was at first doubtful; for Caesar's troops had commenced retreating, when their want of spirit so dispirited him, that, as they ran away, he was near making away with himself, by the mere force of sympathy. By a last effort, however, he succeeded in stopping the fugitives, and asked them if they were mad, to display such flightiness. His appeal was successful; and, having first come to themselves, they fell upon the enemy. Cneius made for the sh.o.r.e, and was getting into a ship, when a rope caught his foot, and he remained tied by the leg in a most perilous position. Having endeavoured for some time to effect his own extrication from the cable, which proved utterly impracti-cable, he called to one of his companions, who endeavoured to cut the rope, and in doing so, wounded Cneius. The unhappy sufferer attempted to fly, but being pursued to within an inch of his life, he naturally had not a foot to spare; and finding himself deprived of the use of one of his legs; he was, of course, in a sad hobble. He had got on sh.o.r.e, and had just placed his foot in a doctor's hands, when he was overtaken and killed by the enemy.

His brother s.e.xtus made his escape; and his hopes of rulership being at an end, he commenced the trade of a robber, which is not a very different kind of business from that of government in the days of military despotism.

On Caesar's return to Rome he was received with increased adulation, though his victory had been over the Romans themselves; who, by acquiescing in their own degradation, became fully deserving of all the acts of tyranny they were made the victims of. Success, however, is the idol to which the mult.i.tude will bow, let the object of adoration be either good or evil; and it is only when the latter encounters the fall, which, sooner or later, must be its inevitable fate, that the _Vox Dei_ is really echoed by the _Vox Populi_.

We must, however, accept with caution the accounts of the rejoicings that are described as attending the dictatorship of one who had so completely subjugated his country, that murder or banishment, without trial, had become the certain fate of every one who should venture to express the smallest disapprobation of any of his measures. Nothing is easier than for one who has a drawn sword ready for every hostile throat, to style himself the "father of his country," and to exercise the ancient privilege of paternity by taking the lives of such of his children as might rebel against his parental authority. It was easy to decree a thanksgiving of fifty days, and to obtain its outward observance, when instant death at the hands of a mercenary might be the fate of any one expressing a doubt as to having much to be grateful for.

The statues of the usurper were placed in all the temples; but this was no test of true popularity; for if an armed band should break into our house, take forcible possession of all its contents, rob us of all we possess, and spend a portion of the proceeds in placing a bust of the head of the banditti in our princ.i.p.al apartments, it would be no proof of his being a favourite of ours. He decreed himself imperator, or Emperor, for life,--a proceeding no less impudent than that of a burglar, who, having broken into our premises, calls himself the landlord of the property. He declared his own person sacred--a poor consolation for a tyrant who knows that there is a curse which must eventually be brought terribly down upon all injustice and iniquity. He seized upon half the magistracies, as his own private property, to be given away by himself; and he virtually seized upon the other half, by claiming the nomination of the candidates. He was, in fact, supreme and sole master of the Republic; and without any one of the conditions which are absolutely essential to the permanency of power. His usurpation had neither law, morality, justice, nor reason--nor even that hollowest of all mockeries, expediency--to rest upon. The first utterance of the public voice, when free to speak, must have overwhelmed him with one shout of indignant execration; and the first movement of the popular arm, when freed from its ign.o.ble paralysis, must have hurled him from power.

Some supporters of the miserable and unprincipled fallacy, that the end justifies the means, have pointed to some of Caesar's salutary acts, as an excuse for his usurpation; but that right can never result from wrong, is shown in the fate which the Dictator soon met with. His aim was evidently the monarchy; and his adherent, Antony, caused a statue of Caesar to be crowned; when two Tribunes seeing the diadem, and perceiving that there was an intention of trying it on, ordered it to be taken off again. The Dictator of the republic was so offended at this outrage on the symbols of monarchy, that he was on the point of putting the Tribunes to death, when it was suggested to him that exile might do as well, and he accordingly sent them into banishment.

It is one of the numerous penalties of iniquity, that its own example may be followed in opposition to itself; and that he who uses lawlessness and violence to attain his ends, may find them conducing to his own, in a sense he had not expected. The sentiments which, in contact with the open air of freedom, form the wholesome breath of public opinion, can never be stifled and pent up, without generating the foul and dangerous vapours of conspiracy. This noxious poison speedily forms itself among an enslaved people, and an explosion eventually takes place, which removes a load of oppression, and clears the political atmosphere.

A conspiracy had been for some time forming against Caesar's life; and a band of about sixty, headed by M. Brutus and C. Ca.s.sius, had resolved on his downfall. The Dictator kept continually aiming at the crown, which he might perhaps have worn in dignity and safety, had he sought to gain it by honest means; for the nation had become so heartily sick of the alternate farce and tragedy of a Republic, that the necessity for some permanent authority based on law was on all hands admitted. He had, however, tried to effect his object by the cunning of a knave, the audacity of a thief, and the inhumanity of a butcher.

When a sovereign is really wanted, much may be done for a candidate who has circ.u.mstances, seconded by prudence, honour, and ability, on his side; but that crown is not worth an hour's purchase which is seized by force, fraud, and cruelty. The last trick of Caesar, in trying to turn his usurpation into a right, was a pretence that the Sibylline books, having declared the Parthians could be conquered by none but a king, it was necessary to make him one. The Senate was to meet to consider the matter, on the 15th of March, in Pompey's Curia, where now stands the Palazzo Ma.s.simi. The professional augurs had already begun to prophesy, on the strength of those shadows which precede coming events; and Caesar was so puffed up with self-conceit, and the people had been so long his abject slaves, that he had almost learned to believe the world would never throw off the atom that had got to the top of it. His wife had, it is said, an unfavourable dream, on the day previous to the meeting; but Caesar smiled at her warnings, and told her that her night-mare proceeded from some ridiculous mare's nest. Caesar walked down to the house of a.s.sembly, chatting arm-in-arm with the Consul, Decimus Brutus. Seeing in the crowd an augur, who had told him to beware of the Ides of March, Caesar observed, smiling, "Well, here they are; and here am I;" to which, "Wait till they are gone, and then where are you?" was the only reply of the soothsayer.

The secret of the conspiracy, which had been hitherto well kept, now began to ooze out in all directions; and nearly everybody that Caesar met thrust a paper into his hand, or dropped a whisper into his ear; but he would read and listen to nothing.

The Senators rose on his entrance; and when he took his seat the conspirators got round about him, until one of them, Metellus Cimber, came rather intrusively to close quarters, with a pet.i.tion. Caesar gave him a slight push, as a hint to him to keep his distance; and Cimber, as if to catch himself, took hold of the Dictator's toga, which was the signal agreed upon. Casca instantly stabbed him in the neck, when Ca.s.sius followed up the blow with a poke in the ribs; and Brutus had raised his hand with a dagger in it, when Caesar exclaiming, "_Et tu, Brute!_"--And you!--you, Brute!--staggered to the foot of Pompey's statue, that he might form a _tableau_ as he expired.

The republic was now virtually, if not nominally, at an end, though a faint struggle was still made by the murderers of Caesar, who ran through the streets, proclaiming that they had killed a king, but obtained no praise for the achievement. Antony, on the other hand, created an immense sensation, by exhibiting the identical toga in which Caesar had fallen, and thrusting his ten fingers through twice as many large holes, which he declared had been made by the a.s.sa.s.sins' daggers. Not satisfied with making the most of Caesar's wardrobe, Antony appropriated the money of the deceased; and while the widow was wrapped in grief, with her face buried in her hands, her late husband's friend was carrying off all he could lay his hands upon. Antony had been at once grasping and prodigal, giving away with one hand what he had s.n.a.t.c.hed with the other; and buying at a liberal price what he had no means of paying for.

His rival in the contest for the supreme power was Octavius, the son of a daughter of Caesar's sister, and who, with no other qualification than that of nephew to his uncle, had the impudence to claim absolute dominion over a great but broken-spirited nation. This individual was without character or courage; and though afraid to be left in the dark, he was still more afraid of the light; for he felt that his own actions would not bear looking at. His cowardice had the usual effect upon him, for it made him cruel; and though there was nothing but his name to make him a favourite with the army, he had betrayed the soldiers into the disgrace of turning their arms on their fellow-citizens. By a constant use of the name of his uncle, he succeeded in cozening a people who sought only permanence in their inst.i.tutions; and Antony being ultimately subdued, more by his own feebleness as a voluptuary, than by the strength of his opponent, an empire fell into the hands of Octavius.

He was invested with the t.i.tle of Imperator for life; and he retained his position till his death--a circ.u.mstance to be attributed to the conviction that had been brought home to the popular mind, that the constant changing of the head of a State is a source of constant danger to the peace and happiness of the whole community.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The End of Julius Caesar.]

FOOTNOTES:

[75] Those who doubt the accuracy of this description, may consult Plutarch's "Life of Cra.s.sus."

[76] This story of the mattress, though gravely told, is somewhat doubtful, and is hardly worth the straw involved in it.

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