We now enter upon the last stage in the decline and fall of the republic. By a violent effort Sulla had restored the government to the senatorial nobility. But symptoms intimating the insecurity of the fabric which he had hastily reared on blood-bathed foundations showed themselves even before his death. After his secession, Q. Catulus became the chief of the senatorial party. He was son of the Catulus who shared the Cimbrian triumph with Marius, and in the year 79 B.C. he appeared among the candidates for the consulship with the certainty of election. The person who aspired to be his colleague was M. Æmilius Lepidus, a man of illustrious family, but of vain and petulant character. He was supported by many friends, among others by young Pompey. Sulla knew the man, and warned Pompey against entrusting him with power. But Pompey, who already began to talk of “the setting and the rising sun,” disregarded the warning, and Lepidus was elected.

Scarcely was Sulla dead when his words were fulfilled. Lepidus declared himself the chief of the Italian party, and promised to restore all that Sulla had taken away. To prevent a renewal of civil war, the senate bound him and Catulus alike by oath not to take up arms during their consulate. But Lepidus retired to his province of Transalpine Gaul, and, pretending that his oath did not bind him there, began to levy troops. The senate summoned him to return to Rome. He obeyed, but it was at the head of an army. To oppose him, Catulus took post before the Milvian bridge, with Pompey for his lieutenant. Here they were attacked by Lepidus, who was easily defeated. After this failure, he fled to Sardinia, where he died shortly after. But his lieutenants, M. Perperna and M. Junius Brutus, father of Cæsar’s murderer, kept the troops together, and waited for the course of events. A war was raging in Spain, which might well encourage the hopes of discontented persons.

[78-75 B.C.]

It has been mentioned that Q. Sertorius had assumed the government of Spain. But after a vain struggle against superior forces, he was obliged to take refuge in Mauretania. The news from Italy was dispiriting. It seemed as if the Marian cause was lost forever. Sertorius lent ear to the tales of seamen who had lately made a voyage to the Fortunate Islands (so the ancients called the Azores), and seemed to recognise the happy regions which Greek legends assigned as the abode of the blessed. But while the active soldier was indulging in day-dreams of indolent tranquillity, he received an invitation from the Lusitanians to head them in rising against the senatorial governors, and obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. Viriathus himself did not use with better effect the energies of the brave mountaineers. The south of Spain was soon too hot to hold the Sullan leaders; the proscribed Marians came out of their hiding places and joined the new chief. His progress, in the course of two years’ time, became so serious that, when Metellus Pius laid down his consulship, he was sent into Spain to crush Sertorius.

But to crush Sertorius was no easy task. He was no mere soldier, but possessed political qualities of a high order. Like Hamilcar and Hasdrubal of old, he flattered the Spaniards with the hope of rising to independence under his rule. The government which he formed indicated a disposition to dispute empire with Rome. He formed a senate of three hundred, consisting partly of proscribed Romans, partly of Spanish chiefs—a step unparalleled in the provincial government of Rome. All cities in his power he organised after the Italian model; and at Osca (now Huesca in Catalonia) he established a school for the noble youth of Spain. The boys wore the Roman garb, and were taught the tongues of Rome and Athens. Sertorius is almost the only statesman of antiquity who tried to use education as an engine of government. It cannot indeed be pretended that his views were merely philanthropic; no doubt he held the boys as hostages for the fidelity of their sires.

His great talents, above all his acknowledgment of equality between provincials and Romans, won him golden opinions. Everywhere the Spaniards crowded to see him, and loudly protested their readiness to die for him. Their enthusiastic reverence for his person was increased by the presence of a white doe, which continually followed him, and was regarded by the simple people as a familiar spirit, by means of which he held communication with heaven.

Metellus in two campaigns found himself unequal to cope with the new ruler of Spain. In the second of these years (77 B.C.) Perperna, who had retired to Gaul with the best troops of Lepidus, entered Spain, and joined the popular leader; and the senate hastily despatched Pompey to reinforce Metellus. On his march through Gaul, the young general encountered the other remnant of the army of Lepidus under Brutus; and Brutus, who fell into his hands, was put to death in cold blood.

[75-72 B.C.]

Pompey’s aid, however, did not change the face of affairs. In the first battle the young general was saved by the approach of Metellus, on which Sertorius said: “If the old woman had not come up, I should have given the boy a sound drubbing and sent him back to Rome.” At the end of 75 B.C. Pompey wrote a letter to the senate, representing the insufficiency of his forces, and two more legions were at once sent to reinforce him. Meantime Sertorius himself had reasons for apprehension. Some of his Roman friends, disliking his policy of favouring the provincials, made overtures to the senatorial commanders; and Sertorius, severe by nature, still further exasperated the Romans of his party by forming his bodyguard exclusively of Spaniards. But he still maintained his superiority in the field. Nor was it encouraging to learn that he had received envoys from Mithridates, who was about to renew war with Rome. Sertorius agreed to furnish Roman officers to train the soldiers of Asia, while the king was to repay the loan in ships and money.

The despotic power exercised by Sertorius had corrupted his nature. He indulged in the immoderate use of wine, was impatient of the slightest contradiction, and was guilty of many acts of tyranny. Even the Spaniards began to fall away; and Sertorius in a moment of irritation ordered all the boys at Osca to be put to death. This cruel and impolitic act would probably have cost him his power and his life, even if it had not been terminated by treachery. Perperna, who had at first joined him against his own inclination, thought that a favourable opportunity had arrived for grasping power. He invited Sertorius to a banquet at Osca; and the general, having drunk freely according to his custom, fell an easy prey to the dagger of the assassin (72 B.C.).