It is obvious that the greater part of such Commentaries must be necessarily occupied with the detail of warlike operations. The military genius of Rome breathes through the whole work, and it comprehends all the varieties which warfare offers to our interest, and perhaps, undue admiration—pitched battles, affairs of posts, encampments, retreats, marches in face of the foe through woods and over plains or mountains, passages of rivers, sieges, defence of forts, and those still more interesting accounts of the spirit and discipline of the enemies’ troops, and the talents of their generals. In his clear and scientific details of military operations, Cæsar is reckoned superior to every writer, except, perhaps, Polybius. Some persons have thought he was too minute, and that, by describing every evolution performed in a battle, he has rendered his [pg 97]relations somewhat crowded. But this was his principle, and it served the design of the author.
As he records almost nothing at which he was not personally present, or heard of from those acting under his immediate directions, he possessed the best information with regard to everything of which he wrote[197]. In general, when he speaks of himself, it is without affectation or arrogance. He talks of Cæsar as of an indifferent person, and always maintains the character which he has thus assumed; indeed, it can hardly be conceived that he had so small a share in the great actions he describes, as appears from his own representations. With exception of the false colours with which he disguises his ambitious projects against the liberties of his country, everything seems to be told with fidelity and candour. Nor is there any very unfair concealment of the losses he may have sustained: he ingenuously acknowledges his own disaster in the affair at Dyracchium; he admits the loss of 960 men, and the complete frustration of his whole plan for the campaign. When he relates his successes, on the other hand, it is with moderation. There is the utmost caution, reserve, and modesty, in his account of the battle of Pharsalia; and one would hardly conceive that the historian had any share in the action or victory. He in general acknowledges, that the events of war are beyond human control, and ascribes the largest share of success to the power of fortune. The rest he seems willing to attribute to the valour of his soldiers, and the good conduct of his military associates. Thus he gives the chief credit and glory of the great victory over Ariovistus to the presence of mind displayed by Crassus, who promptly made the signal to a body of men to advance and support one of the wings which was overpowered by the multitude of the enemy, and was beginning to give way. He does not even omit to do justice to the distinguished and generous valour of the two centurions, Pulfio and Varenus, or of the centurion Sextius Baculus, during the alarming attack by the Sicambri. On the other hand, when he has occasion to mention the failure of his friends, as in relating Curio’s defeat and death in Africa, he does it with tenderness and indulgence. Of his enemies, he speaks without insult or contempt; and even in giving his judgment upon a great military question, though he disapproves Pompey’s mode of waiting for the attack at Pharsalia, his own reasons [pg 98]for a contrary opinion are urged with deference and candour. The confident hopes which were entertained in Pompey’s camp—the pretensions and disputes of the leading senators, about the division of patronage and officers, and the confiscations which were supposed to be just falling within their grasp, furnished him with some amusing anecdotes, which it must have been difficult to resist inserting; nor can we wonder, that while all the preparations for celebrating the anticipated victory with luxury and festivity, were matters of ocular observation, he should have devoted some few passages in his Commentaries, to recording the vanity and presumption of such fond expectations. Labienus, who had deserted him, and Scipio, who gave him so much trouble, by rekindling the war, are those of whom he speaks with the greatest rancour, in relating the cruelty of the former, and the tyrannical ingenious rapacity of the latter[198].
Whatever concerns the events of the civil war could not easily have been falsified or misrepresented. So many enemies, who had been eye-witnesses of everything, survived that period, that the author could scarcely have swerved from the truth without detection. But in his contests with the Gauls, and Germans, and Britons, there was no one to contradict him. Those who accompanied him were devoted to his fame and fortunes, and interested like himself in exalting the glory of these foreign exploits. That he has varnished over the real motives, and also the issue, of his expedition to Britain has been frequently suspected. The reason he himself assigns for the undertaking is, that he understood supplies had been thence furnished to the enemy, in almost all the Gallic wars; but Suetonius asserts, that the information he had received of the quantity and size of the pearls on the British coast, was his real inducement. Fourteen short chapters in the fourth book of the Gallic war, relate his first visit, and his hasty return; and sixteen in the fifth, detail his progress in the following summer. These chapters have derived importance from containing the earliest authentic memorials of the inhabitants and state of this island; and there has, of course, been much discussion on the genuine though imperfect notices they afford. Various tracts, chiefly published in the Archæologia, have topographically followed the various steps of Cæsar’s progress, particularly his passage across the Thames, and have debated the situation of the Portus Iccius, from which he embarked for Britain.
Cæsar’s occasional digressions concerning the manners of [pg 99]the Gauls and Germans, are also highly interesting and instructive, and are the only accounts to be at all depended on with regard to the institutions and customs of these two great nations, at that remote period. In Gaul he had remained so long, and had so thoroughly studied the habits and customs of its people for his own political purposes, that whatever is delivered concerning that country, may be confidently relied on. His intercourse with the German tribes was occasional, and chiefly of a military description. Some of his observations on their manners—as their hospitality, the continence of their youth, and the successive occupation of different lands by the same families—are confirmed by Tacitus; but in other particulars, especially in what relates to their religion, he is contradicted by that great historian. Cæsar declares that they have no sacrifices, and know no gods, but those, like the Sun or Moon, which are visible, and whose benefits they enjoy[199]. Tacitus informs us, that their chief god is Mercury, whom they appease by human victims; that they also sacrifice animals to Hercules and Mars; and adore that Secret Intelligence, which is only seen in the eye of mental veneration[200]. The researches of modern writers have also thrown some doubts on the accuracy of Cæsar’s German topography; and Cluverius, in particular, has attempted to show, that he has committed many errors in speaking both of the Germans and Batavians[201].
As the Commentaries of Cæsar do not pretend to the elaborate dignity of history, the author can scarcely be blamed if he has detailed his facts without mingling many reflections or observations. He seldom inserts a political or characteristic remark, though he had frequent opportunities for both, in describing such singular people as the Gauls, Germans, and Britons. But his object was not, like Sallust or Tacitus, to deduce practical reflections for the benefit of his reader, or to explain the political springs of the transactions he relates. His simple narrative was merely intended for the gratification of those Roman citizens, whom he had already persuaded to favour his ambitious projects; yet even they, I think, might have wished to have heard something more of what may be called the military motives of his actions. He tells us of his [pg 100]marches, retreats, and encampments, but seldom sufficiently explains the grounds on which these warlike measures were undertaken—how they advanced his own plans, or frustrated the designs of the enemy. More insight into the military views by which he was prompted, would have given additional interest and animation to his narrative, and afforded ampler lessons of instruction.
No person, I presume, wishes to be told, for the twentieth time, that the style of Cæsar is remarkable for clearness and ease, and a simplicity more truly noble than the pomp of words. Perhaps the most distinguishing characteristic of his style, is its perfect equality of expression. There was, in the mind of Cæsar, a serene and even dignity. In temper, nothing appeared to agitate or move him—in conduct, nothing diverted him from the attainment of his end. In like manner, in his style, there is nothing swelling or depressed, and not one word occurs which is chosen for the mere purpose of embellishment. The opinion of Cicero, who compared the style of Cæsar to the unadorned simplicity of an ancient Greek statue, may be considered as the highest praise, since he certainly entertained no favourable feelings towards the author; and the style was very different from that which he himself employed in his harangues, or philosophical works, or even in his correspondence. “Nudi sunt,” says he, “recti, et venusti, omni ornatu orationis tanquam veste detracto.” This exquisite purity was not insensibly obtained, as the Lælian and Mucian Families are said to have acquired it, by domestic habit and familiar conversation, but by assiduous study and thorough knowledge of the Latin language[202], and the practice of literary composition, to which Cæsar had been accustomed from his earliest youth[203].
But, however admirable for its purity and elegance, the style of Cæsar seems to be somewhat deficient, both in vivacity and vigour. Walchius, too, has pointed out a few words, which he considers not of pure Latinity, as ambactus, a term employed by the Gauls and Germans to signify a servant—also Ancorarii funes, a word nowhere else used as an adjective—Antemittere for premittere, and summo magistratu præiverat for magistratui[204]. The use of such words as collabefieret, contabulatio, detrimentosum, explicitius, materiari, would lead us to suspect that Cæsar had not always attended to the rule which he so strongly laid down in his book, De Analogia, [pg 101]to avoid, as a rock, every unusual word or expression. Bergerus, in an immense quarto, entitled De Naturali pulchritudine Orationis has at great length attempted to show that Cæsar had anticipated all the precepts subsequently delivered by Longinus, for reaching the utmost excellence and dignity of composition. He points out his conformity to these rules, in what he conceives to be the abridgments, amplifications, transitions, gradations,—in short, all the various figures and ornaments of speech, which could be employed by the most pedantic rhetorician; and he also critically examines those few words and phrases of questionable purity, which are so thinly scattered through the Commentaries.
Mankind usually judge of a literary composition by its intrinsic merit, without taking into consideration the age of the author, the celerity with which it was composed, or the various circumstances under which it was written; and in this, perhaps, they act not unjustly, since their business is with the work, and not with the qualities of the author. But were such things to be taken into view, it should be remembered, that these Memoirs were hastily drawn up during the tumult and anxiety of campaigns, and were jotted down from day to day, without care or premeditation. “Ceteri,” says Hirtius, the companion of Cæsar’s expeditions, and the continuator of his Commentaries,—“Ceteri quam bene atque emendate; nos etiam quam facile atque celeriter eos perscripserit scimus.”
The Commentaries, De Bello Gallico, and De Bello Civili, are the only productions of Cæsar which remain to us. Several ancient writers speak of his Ephemeris, or Diary; but it has been doubted whether the work, so termed by Plutarch, Servius, Symmachus, and several others, be the same book as the Commentaries, or a totally different production. The former opinion is adopted by Fabricius, who thinks that Ephemeris, or Ephemerides, is only another name for the Commentaries, which in fact may be considered as having been written in the manner and form of a diary. He acknowledges, that several passages, cited by Servius, as taken from these Ephemerides, are not now to be found in the Commentaries; but then he maintains that there are evidently defects (lacunæ) in the latter work; and he conjectures that the words quoted by Servius are part of the lost passages of the Commentaries. This opinion is followed by Vossius, who cites a sort of Colophon at the end of one of the oldest MSS. of the Commentaries which he thinks decisive of the question, as it shows that the term Ephemeris was currently applied to them.—“C. J. Cæsaris, P. M. Ephemeris rerum Gestarum Belli Gallici, Lib. VIII. explicit feliciter.”
Bayle, in his Dictionary, has supported the opposite theory. He believes the Ephemeris to have been a journal of the author’s life. He admits, that a passage which Plutarch quotes as from the Ephemeris, occurs also in the fourth book of the Commentaries; but then he maintains, that it was impossible for Cæsar not to have frequently mentioned the same thing in his Commentaries and Journal, and he thinks, that had Plutarch meant to allude to the former, he would have called them, not Ephemeris, but ὑπομνηματα as Strabo has termed them. Besides, Polyænus mentions divers warlike stratagems, as recorded by Cæsar, which are not contained in the Commentaries, and which, therefore, could have been explained only in the separate work Ephemeris.