“Of those that escaped the proscription, some pursued by their ill fortune, perished by shipwreck; others saved beyond all probability, came afterwards to exercise dignities in the city, to have command of armies, and arrive at the honour of triumph. Such wonderful things were to be seen in those days which do not happen in an ordinary city, or in a small kingdom; but in the mistress of the world, as well by sea as land; Providence disposing it so to reduce things to that excellent order wherein you now see them. Not but that Rome felt the same miseries under Sulla, and before him under Marius; and we have in writing of them reported many actions of cruelty, even to the depriving their enemies of burial; but what passed under the triumvirs made much more noise, because of the height of their reputation; and particularly the valour and good fortune of him, who having fixed the foundations of this empire, has left it to those of his race and name, even to this present.”[c]
DEATH OF CICERO
Among the victims far the most conspicuous was Cicero. With his brother Quintus the old orator had retired to his Tusculan villa after the battle of Mutina; and now they endeavoured to escape in the hope of joining Brutus in Macedonia: for the orator’s only son was serving as a tribune in the liberator’s army. After many changes of domicile, they reached Astura, a little island near Antium, where they found themselves short of money, and Quintus ventured to Rome to procure the necessary supply. Here he was recognised and seized, together with his son. Each desired to die first, and the mournful claim to precedence was settled by the soldiers killing both at the same moment.
Meantime Cicero had put to sea. But even in this extremity he could not make up his mind to leave Italy, and put to land at Circeii. After further hesitation, he again embarked, and again sought the Italian shore near Formiæ (Mola di Gaëta). For the night he stayed at his villa near that place; and next morning would not move, exclaiming, “Let me die in my own country,—that country which I have so often saved.” But his faithful slaves forced him into a litter, and carried him again towards the coast. Scarcely were they gone when a band of Antony’s bloodhounds reached his villa, and were put upon the track of their victim by a young man who owed everything to the Cicerones. The old orator from his litter saw the pursuers coming up. His own followers were strong enough to have made resistance; but he desired them to set the litter down. Then, raising himself on his elbow, he calmly waited for the ruffians, and offered his neck to the sword. He was soon despatched.
The chief of the band, by Antony’s express orders, hewed off the head and hands and carried them to Rome. Fulvia, the widow of Clodius and now the wife of Antony, drove her hair pin through the tongue which had denounced the iniquities of both her husbands. The head which had given birth to the Second Philippic, and the hands which had written it, were nailed to the rostra, the home of their eloquence. The sight and the associations raised feelings of horror and pity in every heart.
Cicero died in his sixty-fourth year. He had fallen on evil times; and being eminently a man of peace was constantly called upon to mingle in counsels of civil war. From his first appearance in public during the dictatorship of Sulla to the great triumph of his consulship, he rose with a vigorous and unflagging energy, which gave promise of a man fit to cope with the dangers that were then closing round the constitution. But the performance was not equal to the promise. When once Cicero had joined the ranks of the senatorial nobility, his political conduct is marked by an almost peevish vacillation. His advances were coldly rejected by Pompey. He could not make up his mind to break entirely with Cæsar. His new senatorial associates never heartily welcomed the new man, whose laborious habits contrasted disadvantageously with their own. As the first orator of the day, he thought he had a claim to be considered as equal to the first statesman; and the rejection of this claim even by his own party threw him still more out of harmony with that party.
If we turn from his public to his private character, our commendations need less reserve. None but must admire the vigorous industry with which from early youth he prepared for his chosen profession of advocate, full of the generous belief that every branch of liberal studies must be serviceable to one who is expected to bring out of his treasure things new and old. To mould his multifarious knowledge he possessed a readiness of speech which sometimes betrayed him into verbosity. The advocate with an eye only to his verdict is sometimes forgotten in the orator who desires to display his own powers. When the Forum and the senate house were closed to him, he poured the overflowing abundance of his acquirements into those dialogues and treatises which we still read with delight. He wrote rapidly and fluently as he spoke, rather to amuse and employ his mind in times of enforced idleness than as one who feels a call to instruct or benefit mankind.
His disposition was extremely amiable. He felt no jealousy for rivals; Hortensius was among his intimate friends, and is chiefly known to us by Cicero’s generous praise. No man had more friends. In his family relations he shines brightly amid the darkness of that age. His wife Terentia was one with whom he had little sympathy; her masculine energy was oppressive to his less resolute character. It was a relief, doubtless, to find an excuse for divorcing her in the troubles of the Civil War. But divorces were matters of course in these times. Nor did public opinion condemn him when to mend his broken fortunes he married Publilia, a girl of large property, who was his ward. To his affection for his brother Quintus and for his children there is no drawback. On the whole his character displays much weakness, but very little evil; while the perfect integrity and justice of his life, in an age when such qualities were rare, if they do not compensate for his defects in a political point of view, yet entitle him to the regard and admiration of all good men.
Many of the proscribed escaped their fate, and found refuge, some with Brutus in the East, some in Africa, more still with Sext. Pompeius. This adventurer took advantage of the troubles in Italy to extend his power. He occupied Sicily, and his fleets swept the coasts of Italy to afford assistance to the proscribed. Next year, while Antony was intrusted with the task of levying troops against Brutus and Cassius, Octavian undertook to wrest Sicily from the hands of Sextus. But his fleet was encountered and beaten off by the skilful captains of the enemy; and Octavian was compelled to depart for the East without accomplishing his purpose.