CHAPTER XXIV. FROM PHARSALIA TO THE DEATH OF CATO
CÆSAR IN EGYPT
The nobles betrayed their own cause at Pharsalia by their want of courage and self-devotion. It is in vain that Lucan rounds a poetical period with the names of the Lepidi, the Metelli, the Corvini, and the Torquati, whom he supposes to have fallen in the last agony of the defence; of all the great chiefs whom we know as leaders in the Pompeian camp, Domitius alone perished on that day, and even he was killed in flight.
The fragments of the mighty ruin were scattered far away from the scene of disaster. Pompey and a few adherents fled, as we have seen, in one direction to Larissa; a larger number escaped by the road to Illyricum, and met again within the walls of Dyrrhachium. The principal reserve of the Pompeian forces was there commanded by M. Cato, and there also was the common resort of the wavering and dissatisfied, such as Varro and Cicero, who wished to secure their own safety in either event. The fleets of the republic, under Octavius and C. Cassius, still swept the seas triumphantly; the latter had recently burnt thirty-five Cæsarian vessels in the harbour of Messana. But the naval commanders were well aware that their exploits could have little influence on the event of a contest which was about to be decided by the whole military force of the Roman world; and forming their own plans, and acting for the most part independently, they began more and more to waver in their fidelity to the common cause. As soon as the event of the great battle became known, the squadrons of the allies made the best of their way home, while some, such as the Rhodians, attached themselves to the conqueror.
Then the soldiers in garrison at Dyrrhachium became turbulent. They plundered the magazines and burnt the transports on which they were destined to be conveyed to some distant theatre of protracted warfare. The desertion of the allies, the mutinous spirit of the troops, and the report of the numerous adhesions which Cæsar was daily receiving from the most conspicuous of the nobles, convinced Cato that the last hope of keeping the party together, and maintaining the struggle effectually, depended upon the fate of Pompey himself. In the event of the destruction of the acknowledged chief of the senate, he only contemplated restoring to the shores of Italy the troops confided to him, and then betaking himself to retirement from public affairs in some remote province. While the fatal catastrophe was yet unknown he withdrew from Dyrrhachium to Corcyra, where the headquarters of the naval force were established; and there he offered to surrender his command to Cicero as his superior in rank. But the consular declined the perilous honour, and refused to take any further part in a contest which, from the first, had inspired him with distrust and remorse. The young Cneius Pompey had urged the exercise of summary vengeance upon whomsoever should threaten defection at such a crisis, and it was with difficulty he was restrained from using personal violence against Cicero, when he declared his intention of embarking at once for Italy. The recreant consular’s life was barely saved by Cato’s vigorous interference. At Corcyra many of the fugitives from the field of battle rejoined their confederates. Among them were Scipio and Afranius, the former of whom now assumed the command of their combined forces, and it was upon him, as soon as the fact of Pompey’s death was ascertained, that the leadership of the party most naturally devolved.
Meanwhile, Cæsar followed up his success with unabated activity. He allowed his soldiers at the most only two days’ repose on the scene of their triumph, and amidst the spoils they had acquired. His care was divided between improving the victory he had gained in the East, and securing his acquisitions in the West. With the latter view he ordered Antony to return to Italy with a large part of his forces, and watch over his interests in that quarter, where he apprehended that some of the beaten faction might hazard a descent upon the centre of his resources. He also required his lieutenant Calenus to complete, without delay, the subjugation of southern Greece. Athens had not yet opened her gates to him, but the event of the great battle determined her to obey his summons. The long resistance this city had made exposed it, by the laws of ancient warfare, to the vengeance of the conqueror; but Cæsar ordered it to be spared, for the sake, as he said, of its illustrious dead. The Peloponnesus was now speedily evacuated by the forces of the republic, and Calenus occupied the points on the coast where he anticipated the possibility of fresh intrusion. Scipio had landed at Patræ, probably to receive the remnant of the Pompeian garrisons in that province, but straightway abandoned it, and stretched his sails for Africa.
Cæsar devoted himself to the pursuit of Pompey with the utmost energy and impatience, being anxious not merely to prevent his assembling a new armament, but if possible to secure his person. He pushed forward with a squadron of cavalry, and was followed by a single legion. He reached Amphipolis just after the fugitive’s departure, and, taking the route of Asia by land, crossed the Hellespont with a few small vessels. In the passage he fell in with the squadron of C. Cassius, who had been despatched to the Euxine to stimulate or co-operate with Pharnaces, king of Pontus, whose promised succours were urgently demanded. It was remarked as an extraordinary instance of the good fortune ever supposed to wait upon the mighty conqueror, that the mere terror of his name induced Cassius to surrender his galleys to a few fishing-boats. There can be little doubt that the republican commander had already made up his mind to change his side, when accident threw this favourable opportunity in his way. As a man of influence and authority, as well as an able soldier, he was well received by his adopted leader, and the good offices attributed to Brutus could hardly have been required to conciliate to him the favour of Cæsar.
Having now arrived on the Asiatic coast, Cæsar advanced more leisurely. He had received information of Pompey’s flight to Egypt, and was aware that, if the suppliant were received there, he could not be dislodged except by regular military operations. He was content therefore to await the arrival of ampler succours, and employed himself in the meanwhile with repairing the injuries which Scipio was accused of having inflicted upon the unfortunate provincials. He earned their favourable opinion by the remission of taxes, and by restraining the exactions of the farmers of the revenue. He saved a second time from spoliation the treasures of the Ephesian Diana, which Ampius, an adherent of the opposite party, had been on the point of seizing. These benefits he accompanied with further favours and distinctions, and then handed over the government of the province to Calvinus, to whom he entrusted three legions, to defend it against Pharnaces and the other oriental allies of the senate. Cæsar retained only two legions about his own person, and those so much reduced in number as to contain much less, than half their proper complements. The whole of this force consisted of only 3200 infantry, and eight hundred cavalry, and with these he sailed without hesitation for Egypt. It was only a few days after the death of Pompey that he appeared thus attended off the port of Alexandria. No sooner was his arrival known than Theodotus hastened to meet him on board his vessel, and brought to him the head and ring of his murdered rival. The latter might be of important service to assure the wavering of the event which had occurred, and Cæsar took and preserved it for that purpose; but from the mangled head he turned away with horror, and gave orders, with tears in his eyes, that it should be consumed with the costliest spices. The ashes he caused to be deposited in a shrine which he erected to the avenging Nemesis. The murderers were confounded and alarmed at the feeling he exhibited, nor were they less astonished, perhaps, at the perfect confidence with which he disembarked upon their coast, and claimed with his handful of followers to settle the concerns of a powerful kingdom.
It had been Cæsar’s policy to spare the wealth of the provinces which he wished to attach to his side, and his system was directly opposed to the confiscation of his enemies’ estates; but his want of money was urgent, and it was in arranging the quarrels of a dependent kingdom that the best opportunity might be found for exacting it. This undoubtedly was the urgent motive which impelled him to intrude upon the affairs of a jealous people, in which his principal designs were in no way implicated. When Auletes came to Rome to negotiate his restoration to the throne, he had purchased the support of the leaders of the senate by the most lavish bribes. Cæsar himself had received the promise of seventeen millions and a half of drachmæ; an obligation which had never yet been discharged. He now confined his demand to ten millions, but sternly rejected the representations of Pothinus, who pleaded for a longer time for the payment of so large a sum. But even at the moment of landing Cæsar was warned of the difficulties into which he was rushing. His military force was contemptible; it was upon the dignity of his title as consul of the republic that he could alone rely. Accordingly, he entered the streets of Alexandria with all the insignia of his office, thereby offending the populace, who were easily persuaded that he offered an intentional insult to their independence. A riot ensued, in which many of the Cæsarian soldiers lost their lives. Cæsar felt that he had mistaken the character of the nation, and underrated their jealousy of foreigners.
But policy would not allow him to give way. He summoned the rival sovereigns before him, and offered to decide their disputes in the name of the republic. Ptolemy left his camp at Pelusium, and gave Cæsar a meeting in the palace of Alexandria, where he soon found himself watched and detained as a hostage. Cleopatra had already implored the consul’s mediation, and now, when her brother or his ministers obstructed her approach to his presence, she caused herself to be carried by stratagem into his chamber. The fame of Cleopatra’s beauty, which was destined to become second only to Helen’s in renown, was already bruited widely abroad. She had been seen by Mark Antony during the brief inroad of Gabinius into Egypt; and grave legates of the republic had brought back to Rome glowing reports of the girlish charms of the Lagid princess. She was indeed, at the time of her introduction to Cæsar, not twenty years old, and her wit and genius in the arts of female conquest were yet unknown. Perhaps it was fortunate for their celebrity that the man upon whom she was first to prove their power was already predisposed to submit. Cæsar forthwith undertook the championship of the distressed beauty, for it suited his purpose to play off her claims against the haughty minions of her rival. In devoting himself to her cause he did not deny himself the reward of his gallantry; but while he indulged in the luxuries and dissipations of the most sensual of capitals, he kept his eye steadily fixed on his main object, and at the same time carefully guarded his own person from the machinations of his unscrupulous enemies.