‘There is no hope of peace beyond the year’s end,’ wrote a friend to Cicero. ‘Pompey is determined Cæsar shall not be chosen Consul till he has given up his province and army. Cæsar is convinced that he cannot leave his army safely.’
In Rome, the strife between Pompey’s friends and those of Cæsar grew daily more bitter. At length the Senate boldly proposed that Cæsar should be told to give up his province on a certain day, otherwise he would be denounced as a traitor.
Mark Antony and another tribune, both of whom were friends of Cæsar, rose to their feet to protest against such a decree. But the Senate was in no mood to listen to them, and the tribunes were expelled from the house.
In the city, they soon found that their lives were not safe. So they disguised themselves, dressing in old clothes that had belonged to slaves. Then hiring carts they lay in the foot of them, covered with sacking, and thus passed safely through the city gates. Still in this strange garb they at length reached Cæsar’s camp at Ravenna.
It was at Ravenna, in January 49 B.C., that the great general was told of the decree of the Senate.
He had only one legion with him, but leaving orders for the others to follow, he at once began to march toward the Rubicon. The Rubicon was the stream which divided his province from Italy.
Should he cross the stream with his army, it would be a declaration that he had determined on war.
So momentous was the decision, that as Cæsar drew near to the Rubicon he hesitated. Looking down upon the stream, he stood for a time deep in thought, while his soldiers watched him anxiously from the distance.
Turning at length to his officers, he said, ‘Even now we may draw back.’
At that moment, so it is said, a shepherd on the other side of the stream, began to pipe carelessly upon his flute.