XIV
To conquer one’s spirit, abandon anger, and be modest in victory…whoever can do this I compare not to the greatest of men but to a god.
—CICERO
On a bright summer morning in the year 46 B.C., the gates of Rome’s porta triumphalis swung open at last. This city gate was used only to admit a conquering hero beginning his triumphal parade, the greatest honor Rome could grant one of her citizens. Fourteen years earlier Caesar had forfeited the triumph for his Spanish victories so that he might stand for consul. But now Rome was about to witness a victory celebration unlike any before.
Over the next few weeks Caesar staged no fewer than four triumphs—one for each of his victories in Gaul, Egypt, Asia Minor, and Africa. The commemoration of the Gallic war was by far the grandest. Caesar rode in a chariot drawn by white horses and surrounded by dozens of lictors bearing the fasces before them. Carts bearing countless pounds of silver and gold treasures moved into the city, followed by high-ranking captives and slaves. Caesar’s soldiers sang provocative and obscene songs mocking their commander, as was the ancient custom:
Men of Rome, lock up your wives—
we bring you the bald adulterer!
The gold you loaned him gold here in Rome,
he wasted on the whores of Gaul.
The crowd finally glimpsed the featured attraction of the Gaulish triumph—Vercingetorix. Caesar had kept his famous adversary in prison for the last six years awaiting this moment. The man who had once led all of Gaul in rebellion spent the last few hours of his life in a cage rolling through the Roman Forum. The crowd felt no pity for the Gaulish king when Caesar gave the signal for his execution.
But the day had its difficulties. Opposite the temple of Fortune, the axle of Caesar’s chariot snapped cleanly in half nearly spilling him onto the street. He quickly jumped into another chariot and finished the procession, but atoned for this disastrous omen by climbing the steps to the temple of Jupiter on his knees.
The Egyptian triumph a few days later went well until Caesar brought forth Cleopatra’s sister, Arsinoe, wrapped in chains. Barbarian kings were one thing, but the Roman spectators were moved to pity by the broken queen. Caesar had misjudged the mood of the crowd and wisely decided to grant Arsinoe her life and freedom.
Caesar intended the triumph honoring his victory in Africa to be a glorious finale to the monthlong festivities. After Caesar had passed, giant displays portraying his defeated enemies moved slowly through the Forum. These floats had been a big success in the Egyptian and Asian triumphs when the crowd had laughed at the Alexandrian general Achillas and eunuch Pothinus. They also loved King Pharnaces fleeing from the battle of Zela, but the mood changed when they saw the Roman nobles. Scipio was there before them, stabbing himself in the chest and jumping into the sea, while Petreius was slain by his loyal servant after killing Juba in their duel. What they witnessed next disturbed the crowd even more—a huge picture of Cato on his bed at Utica with his guts ripped open for all the world to see. Although most in the crowd were ardent fans of Caesar, this tasteless mockery of a renowned Roman senator was too much for them to bear. They had no love for Cato, but they admired the man for holding to his principles and dying for what he believed in. That day through his own foolish pride, Caesar turned Cato into a martyr.
After the triumphal parades were complete, Caesar at long last distributed the war booty to his soldiers and the people of Rome. Every citizen received as much silver as he might earn during four months of hard labor, together with allotments of grain and olive oil. All his veterans received the equivalent of almost fifteen years of wages for the average worker. This was in addition to their regular pay and previous bonuses. Centurions were rewarded with twice the amount given to legionaries, while officers were granted double that of centurions. Each soldier also received a generous grant of land to retire on and raise a new generation of sons for the Roman army. These farms were scattered widely throughout Roman territory so as not to dispossess previous owners and, quite wisely, to hinder any organized actions by disgruntled veterans in the future.
The soldiers and people of Rome were also treated to banquets and entertainment on an unprecedented scale. One dinner featured 22,000 tables spread with every kind of food and drink. Animal shows at the Circus Maximus were also a favorite part of the celebration. Among the many exotic creatures he brought back from Africa for the occasion was one never before seen in the city. Onlookers thought it was some kind of cross between a camel and a leopard since it had a high back and spotted skin, but the neck was amazingly long. They called it a camelopardalis—today known as a giraffe.
In addition, music, dance, and drama were available throughout the city. Significantly, the plays were performed in a great variety of languages for the huge foreign population of the capital as well as for native Latin speakers. Caesar forced the popular comedy writer Decimus Laberius to appear in one of his own plays as a Syrian slave. The elderly Laberius, however, had his revenge for this humiliation by pointedly emphasizing a few of his lines with a wink to the audience: “Come, citizens, for we have lost our freedom!” And more ominously:
He whom many fear must fear many.
Caesar sponsored gladiatorial combats at the same time in memory of his daughter, Julia. In the Forum there were traditional contests pitting one man against the other, often criminals or prisoners of war, and occasionally knights and even an ex-senator. But in the larger venues whole armies made up of hundreds of condemned men fought for their lives on foot or horseback. There were also battles with twenty elephants and their riders on each side. Caesar even dug an enormous lake so spectators could watch warships complete with marines fighting their way onto enemy vessels. All these shows were so popular that visitors flocking into Rome slept on the streets and trampled to death many of their fellow citizens vying for a better view.
Some among Caesar’s opponents began to grumble that the bloodshed was getting out of hand, but even more—especially among Caesar’s veterans—complained that the money spent on such extravagances should have been distributed among his soldiers instead. At one event at which Caesar had erected a costly silk covering to keep the sun off the crowd, some of his legionaries began to decry this waste of money so loudly that Caesar himself grabbed the ringleader and hauled him off for execution. Two other troublemakers from the legions met a more disturbing end. Since time immemorial, a horse had been sacrificed to the god Mars every October 15 just outside of the city. Its head and tail would then be rushed to the Regia in the Forum for pubic display. This year Caesar decided to supplement the horse sacrifice with a positively druidic ceremony, in which the priest of Mars ritually killed the two soldiers and hung their heads near the Regia. Human sacrifice had been a rare event in Roman history, practiced only during the gravest threats to the state. For Caesar to use his powers as chief priest to revive such an outdated ritual simply as a warning to those who might complain about his conduct must have sent a chill through the city.
So many Romans had died during the previous three years of civil war that the people were now willing to grant Caesar anything he wanted as long as he would promise peace. Because of this desperate longing for stability as well as a very real fear of what he might do next, the senators now outdid themselves in bestowing upon Caesar honors and privileges unknown to any previous leader.
Caesar was first installed as dictator for an unprecedented ten years. He had held the office before for short periods, but for the next decade he could act with absolute power and legal impunity throughout the Roman world. The Senate also made himpraefectus morum—master of morality—an office derived from the traditional role of the censor. With this power he could reprove high-ranking scoundrels and remove senators from office if they offended public standards. The irony of granting this role to a man who was the subject of scandalous songs in every tavern in the city was lost on no one.
The senators also voted Caesar a thanksgiving celebration of forty days, a statue of himself straddling the globe, and the coveted right to give the signal starting the chariot races at the Circus Maximus. In the Senate chamber he was to sit in front with the two consuls, speak first on all issues, and appoint whomever he might desire to serve as magistrates. Caesar graciously accepted all these honors and many more.
In public at least he proclaimed that his only desire was to restore order and prosperity to his beloved country:
Let none of you suppose, my dear senators, that I shall issue any harsh decrees or perform any cruel deeds now that I have won the war and may act freely.
Even cynical politicians such as Cicero believed that Caesar would indeed return Rome to its republican glory and lay down his extraordinary powers once he had achieved this goal. The signs of this new beginning were promising, such as the favorable treatment of former enemies. Brutus had been appointed governor of Italian Gaul, Cassius was an important official, and Marcus Marcellus—once one of Caesar’s most venomous opponents—was granted a full pardon through Cicero’s intervention. But those who hoped for a quick return to the days of senatorial rule apparently missed some of Caesar’s other proclamations:
The Republic is nothing, just a name without substance or form.
And: “Sulla was an ignorant child to ever lay down his dictatorship.” Finally:
Men ought to speak to me more courteously and treat my word as law.
Soon after Caesar’s triumphs, Cleopatra and her royal court arrived in Rome. There was nothing unusual about a foreign monarch visiting the capital, but Cleopatra was far from typical. With her thirteen-year-old husband/brother in tow, the queen of Egypt held in her arms the infant Caesarion, son of Julius Caesar. This must have caused a tremendous scandal throughout Rome, not because of any infidelity—such behavior was expected of generals abroad—but because of the intimate ties that now existed between Caesar and the ruling family of Egypt. Rome was just getting used to Caesar as de facto ruler of its empire. Did his relationship with Cleopatra mean he would preside over Egypt as well? Would he establish a dynasty? Would he try to join East and West like Alexander the Great?
Caesar only encouraged such speculations when he dedicated the new temple to his ancestor Venus that he had vowed after the battle of Pharsalus. This dedication to the goddess was perfectly acceptable and admirable according to Roman tradition, but next to the statue of Venus Caesar placed a beautiful image of Cleopatra herself. Perhaps Caesar saw this only as a representation of Cleopatra as an incarnation of Isis, the Egyptian equivalent of Venus, but traditional Romans were deeply troubled by this unprecedented honor.
The Senate formally recognized Cleopatra and her puppet husband as friends and allies of the Roman people. The security of this political relationship was at the top of Cleopatra’s wish list, but even more vital to the queen was the chance to reestablish her personal ties with Caesar. He obliged handsomely by housing Cleopatra and her companions just across the Tiber in one of his own homes. There the queen held court, receiving Roman officials and senators who flocked to her in spite of themselves because of her influence with Caesar. Endless duties kept Caesar busy much of the time, but he must have been able occasionally to visit his mistress and young son on the far side of the river.
Cicero, in spite of his efforts to warm to Caesar in his new role, was never able to come to terms with the incarnate goddess from Egypt:
I detest Cleopatra…I cannot even describe the insolence of this queen in her gardens across the Tiber without bursting into anger. I want nothing to do with her since she clearly doesn’t appreciate my feelings.
Cicero had apparently tried to impress Cleopatra with his gifts of learning only to be rebuffed. Once while waiting for a summons to attend the queen, he was mortified to find her servant had arrived at his house seeking his cultured friend Atticus instead.
We don’t know how long Cleopatra stayed in Rome, but her visit was a great success. She received official Roman support for her crown while strengthening her personal ties with Caesar. Before she left, Caesar honored her with many gifts for her and their son. Under Roman law, Caesarion could never follow in his father’s footsteps along the Path of Honors, but it undoubtedly pleased Caesar to know that his only son would one day rule Egypt.
Caesar spent the next few months enacting a series of groundbreaking civic and social reforms. He had begun some of his initiatives even before crossing the Rubicon, but now that absolute power was in his hands he was at last free to shape the future of Rome to his liking. Some in the upper classes, such as Cicero, found cause to complain for no other reason than that Caesar was altering Roman tradition, even though the benefits to everyone were obvious. Caesar spared neither the wealthy ruling classes nor his populist backers in his sweeping campaign to transform Rome from an inward-looking oligarchy into a international empire. He was not creating a modern democracy by any stretch of the imagination, but in the year 46 B.C. Caesar began a revolution that would change Rome forever.
Caesar’s first act was to conduct a proper census of the city. This was in part motivated by the massive fraud that for years had enabled many thousands of ineligible residents to obtain free grain meant only for the poorest citizens. But Caesar was also curious to learn how many people were resident in the city after years of civil war. Rejecting previous surveys of population that had yielded wildly inaccurate figures, Caesar commissioned auditors to go door to door through all of Rome’s neighborhoods to obtain an accurate count. When the process was complete, it was found that the true number of eligible food recipients in the city was 150,000 rather than the previous estimate of 320,000. Caesar was pleased to cut the grain dole by half and save the state a great deal of money, but he was troubled by the marked decline in population. Urban workers, like their counterparts in the countryside, were a mainstay of the army. He therefore offered grain supplements and prizes to encourage large families.
To keep citizens at home producing children, Caesar forbade all Roman men between the ages of twenty and forty to travel abroad for more than three years unless they were serving in the army. The sons of senators were forbidden to leave Italy for any length of time unless they were on duty as military or government officials. Caesar knew he could not manage the affairs of a great empire on his own, so he took steps to increase the numbers in the Senate to almost a thousand members, even if it meant the traditional ruling families became a minority in Rome’s most distinguished body. Soldiers, sons of former slaves, and even foreigners who had served him well were enrolled as senators of Rome. When conservatives complained of the quality of the new appointees, Caesar shot back: “If thieves and murderers had stood beside me to defend my honor, I would be granting them the same rewards.”
Even though the population of Rome had declined, city workers still posed a serious danger to public order if they were allowed to organize. Caesar accordingly banned all clubs and guilds unless specifically sanctioned by his government. This sweeping curtailment of civil liberties was tempered by the announcement that organizations of ancient standing would be allowed to continue their meetings. These groups were usually made up of men from a particular trade or profession. They were often dominated by freedmen, although even slaves could join certain clubs. Whatever their official charter, most groups were primarily social in purpose. Caesar had no objections to peaceful gatherings, but like most Romans he was deeply suspicious of foreign religious organizations. Under his decree, however, Caesar was careful to exclude Jews from any ban. As long as they restricted themselves to religious worship and community welfare, the synagogues of Rome were allowed to remain open.
Caesar promoted an increase in the number of middle-class professionals in Rome by granting citizenship to physicians and teachers who settled in the city. On the other hand, he was selective concerning the type of citizens he wanted in Roman government. Auctioneers, grave diggers, fencing teachers, pimps, and actors were all banned from serving as magistrates.
Perhaps inspired by his stay in Egypt—or by guilt at having burned down the great Alexandrian library—Caesar planned a huge public library in Rome full of the best Greek and Latin works. The twice-pardoned optimate and noted scholar Marcus Varro was given charge of collecting and cataloging these works. Caesar also planned to codify for the first time the immense body of Roman law, a project that would not be completed until the early Byzantine era.
Caesar took seriously his role as director of public morals. He was determined to enforce a measure of moderation on a nobility better known for extravagant dinner parties than old-fashioned Roman virtues. Of course, Caesar was famous for his own exquisite tastes—especially in married women—but he did not allow his personal indulgences to stand in the way of making rules for others. When one ex-praetor married a woman just one day after her divorce, Caesar annulled the union even though there was no evidence of previous adultery. He imposed heavy duties on foreign luxury items and placed guards throughout the city markets to seize imported goods he deemed too extravagant. Sometimes his agents even made raids on private homes, confiscating ornate tableware in the middle of dinner. He forbade the use of litters to carry wealthy citizens through the streets, while the wearing of scarlet robes and pearls was restricted to special occasions.
Caesar was harsh on senators and wealthy citizens who broke the law. Previously nobleman were able literally to get away with murder, facing exile at worst if they were unable to bribe their way out of a conviction. For most, this meant only the inconvenience of relocating to one of their estates abroad. Caesar changed the rules to hit the nobility where it hurt the most, so that if convicted they lost at least half of their personal property. In addition, governors found guilty of extortion while managing their provinces were dismissed from the Senate. But Caesar did not follow a strict populist line in all legal matters. He revised the composition of juries to exclude members of the lower classes, who had been admitted in recent years. Under Caesar’s new legislation only senators and knights could decide cases as these groups were considered better able to understand the complexities of the law.
Caesar was equally active in affairs beyond the gates of Rome. He drew up plans for a new harbor at nearby Ostia to provide a proper port for the city of Rome. He also planned large-scale public improvement projects, such as draining the malaria-ridden swamps of Italy and digging a canal across the isthmus of Corinth in Greece. He encouraged owners of large farms to hire more free laborers by laws mandating a reduction in slave labor by a third. Caesar remembered well the revolt of Spartacus thirty years earlier and was determined to reduce Roman dependency on slaves, for security reasons as well as economic stimulation.
Caesar also made unprecedented strides in expanding Roman citizenship. He had already granted full citizen rights to northern Italy three years earlier. Now he extended the franchise to leading citizens from the provinces, especially Spain and Gaul. Many of these began making their way to Rome to seek their fortune or even serve in government. Cicero complained that Rome was becoming overrun by barbarians wearing pants. It would be several centuries before Rome extended citizenship to all free males in the empire, but Caesar was the first to bestow this most precious of Roman rights on large numbers beyond Italy. It was a crucial step in creating a truly international state.
Equally important in spreading Roman civilization was Caesar’s establishment of citizen colonies. Such settlements were not entirely new, but Caesar was the first to send Romans abroad by the tens of thousands. Farmers, skilled craftsmen, and professionals were welcomed into Italy, but the idle poor from slums of Rome were given incentives to move to the new colonies. This served both to expand Roman influence in foreign lands and to rid the capital of its expensive and potentially troublesome underclass. Eighty thousand Roman citizens from the lowest strata of society were enticed onto ships with promises of a new life in Spain, Gaul, Africa, or Greece.
But of all of the reforms Caesar initiated during his months in Rome, his creation of a new calendar stands above the rest for its lasting impact. Before Caesar the Romans used a calendar based on the movement of the moon across the sky. This worked well for most purposes, but since there are only 355 days in a lunar year, the Roman calendar was forever out of alignment with the solar year. This meant that the priests had to add extra days to each year to keep the calendar from creeping ahead of the seasons. Most years they did just that, but it was an awkward ad hoc system that was forever in need of adjustment. Some years harvest festivals were celebrated weeks before the crops were ripe. By Caesar’s day, the disruptions of civil war had caused the seasons to fall behind the civic calendar by over two months.
Caesar used his office as chief priest to fix the problem once and for all by converting Rome to a solar calendar. Relying on an Alexandrian astronomer named Sosigenes for expert advice, he added extra days to 46 B.C., so that by the end of December the year was 445 days long. This was a one-time adjustment to synchronize the days and seasons, but to make sure the calendar functioned properly in the future he lengthened the months to yield an annual total of 365 days. Since the actual solar year is 365 1/4 days long, he also invented leap year by adding an extra day every fourth February to make up the difference.
This revolutionary transformation of the calendar was such an obvious improvement over previous practice that even traditionalists like Cicero had to concede its advantages. Still, when he was told by a companion that the constellation Lyra would be appearing the next day, Cicero could only grumble that it was rising by decree. Caesar’s system worked so well, however, that it survives largely unchanged to this day.
Ever since his victory in Africa Caesar had been receiving regular reports concerning the surviving Pompeian rebels in Spain. At first he considered them no more than a nuisance, the last remnant of beaten force. But by the autumn of 46 B.C. Pompey’s son Gnaeus had raised an impressive army thirteen legions strong consisting of both native troops and disaffected Roman veterans. With the arrival of Labienus from Africa, Gnaeus now threatened to revive a war Caesar thought he had already won.
By November, the Pompeians dominated the southern part of the peninsula, trapping Caesar’s few Spanish forces near Cordova. He therefore appointed Marcus Lepidus to manage affairs in Rome while he marched to Spain with the fifth and tenth legions. Caesar’s legendary speed was once again in evidence as he covered the 1,500 miles to Cordova in less than a month, composing a now-lost poem called The Journey along the way.
It might be expected that the conservative senators of Rome would be thrilled for Caesar to face death once again at the hands of the Pompeians. But as much as they despised the dictator in their hearts, they did not prefer a victory by Gnaeus Pompey. As Cassius wrote to Cicero:
Let me know how things are going in Spain. I’m deeply worried. I’d rather have our old kind master in charge than this young cruel one. You know what a fool Gnaeus is. He thinks that cruelty is courage—and he thinks that we’re always laughing at him. I’m afraid he’ll act like the peasant he is and run us all through with his sword.
By the middle of winter Caesar was advancing on Cordova to lure the Pompeians into open battle, but Labienus urged a strategy of attrition rather than confronting Caesar directly. At first the plan worked well, with Caesar’s legions in a constant struggle to find enough food in enemy territory, but after a few weeks the Pompeians began to suffer regular setbacks. Caesar began to win over Spanish towns to his cause, while more enemy soldiers deserted to him every day. Gnaeus Pompey knew by early March that he would have to face Caesar in battle soon or face losing the support of his army.
On March 17, 45 B.C., Caesar and the Pompeians faced one another across a level valley at Munda, southwest of Cordova. Between their hilltop camps was level ground perfect for maneuvering large numbers of infantry and cavalry. When Caesar saw the enemy troops line up for battle that morning, he quickly readied his own forces and prepared to move them to the plain. Caesar waited for the Pompeians to move down the hill, but Gnaeus Pompey and Labienus stood their ground, daring Caesar to attack uphill. Even though it was a risky move to attack a superior force by charging high ground, Caesar gave the signal to his eager troops and began the attack.
What followed was the bloodiest and most vicious battle of Caesar’s life. His men engaged the Pompeians hand-to-hand for hours, but were slowly pushed back down the hill. Caesar knew everything he had struggled for his whole life would end that day if his troops faltered. As the enemy overcame his soldiers he even considered falling on his own sword to spare himself the humiliation of capture. Instead, the ruler of the Roman world jumped off his horse and charged the Pompeian lines on foot, shouting back to his own troops that they should be ashamed to see him facing the enemy alone.
Caesar’s good fortune and daring once more carried the day as his legions followed him up the hill. By evening 30,000 Pompeian soldiers were dead, though Caesar himself had lost an unprecedented number of men. Gnaeus Pompey fled, only to be slain a few days later. Among the enemy dead was Labienus. Caesar buried his former lieutenant and relentless enemy with honor there on the plains of Munda.
Caesar spent the next few months settling affairs and raising money in Spain, followed by a leisurely journey back across southern Gaul to Rome. His great-nephew Octavius—the future emperor Augustus—joined him in Spain for the return trip, as did Mark Antony in Gaul, at last forgiven for his previous indiscretions and soon to be consul. Antony rode in Caesar’s private carriage and shared with the dictator all the latest gossip from Rome—but neglected to mention that their old friend Gaius Trebonius had come to him whispering that it was time to do something about Caesar.