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Plutarch
Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans
Translated by John Dryden
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Agis
Cleomenes
Tiberius Gracchus
Caius Gracchus
Demosthenes
Cicero
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Agis
The fable of Ixion, who, embracing a cloud instead of Juno, begot the
Centaurs, has been ingeniously enough supposed to have been invented to
represent to us ambitious men, whose minds, doting on glory, which is a
mere image of virtue, produce nothing that is genuine or uniform, but
only, as might be expected of such a conjunction, misshapen and
unnatural actions. Running after their emulations and passions, and
carried away by the impulses of the moment, they may say with the
herdsmen, in the tragedy of Sophocles,
We follow these, though born their rightful lords, And they command
us, though they speak no words.
For this is indeed the true condition of men in public life, who, to
gain the vain title of being the people’s leaders and governors, are
content to make themselves the slaves and followers of all the people’s
humors and caprices. For as the look-out men at the ship’s prow, though
they see what is ahead before the men at the helm, yet constantly look
back to the pilots there, and obey the orders they give; so these men
steered, as I may say, by popular applause, though they bear the name of
governors, are in reality the mere underlings of the multitude. The man
who is completely wise and virtuous, has no need at all of glory, except
so far as it disposes and eases his way to action by the greater trust
that it procures him. A young man, I grant, may be permitted, while yet
eager for distinction, to pride himself a little in his good deeds; for
(as Theophrastus says) his virtues, which are yet tender and, as it
were, in the blade, cherished and supported by praises, grow stronger,
and take the deeper root. But when this passion is exorbitant, it is
dangerous in all men, and in those who govern a commonwealth, utterly
destructive. For in the possession of large power and authority, it
transports men to a degree of madness; so that now they no more think
what is good, glorious, but will have those actions only esteemed good
that are glorious. As Phocion, therefore, answered king Antipater, who
sought his approbation of some unworthy action, “I cannot be your
flatterer, and your friend,” so these men should answer the people, “I
cannot govern, and obey you.” For it may happen to the commonwealth, as
to the serpent in the fable, whose tail, rising in rebellion against the
head, complained, as of a great grievance, that it was always forced to
follow, and required that it should be permitted by turns to lead the
way. And taking the command accordingly, it soon indicted by its
senseless courses mischiefs in abundance upon itself, while the head was
torn and lacerated with following, contrary to nature, a guide that was
deaf and blind. And such we see to have been the lot of many, who,
submitting to be guided by the inclinations of an uninformed and
unreasoning multitude, could neither stop, nor recover themselves out of
the confusion.
This is what has occurred to us to say, of that glory which depends
on the voice of large numbers, considering the sad effects of it in the
misfortunes of Caius and Tiberius Gracchus, men of noble nature, and
whose generous natural dispositions were improved by the best of
educations, and who came to the administration of affairs with the most
laudable intentions; yet they were ruined, I cannot say by an immoderate
desire of glory, but by a more excusable fear of disgrace. For being
excessively beloved and favored by the people, they thought it a
discredit to them not to make full repayment, endeavoring by new public
acts to outdo the honors they had received, and again, because of these
new kindnesses, incurring yet further distinctions; till the people and
they, mutually inflamed, and vieing thus with each other in honors and
benefits, brought things at last to such a pass, that they might say
that to engage so far was indeed a folly, but to retreat would now be a
shame.
This the reader will easily gather from the story. I will now compare
with them two Lacedaemonian popular leaders, the kings Agis and
Cleomenes. For they, being desirous also to raise the people, and to
restore the noble and just form of government, now long fallen into
disuse, incurred the hatred of the rich and powerful, who could not
endure to be deprived of the selfish enjoyments to which they were
accustomed. These were not indeed brothers by nature, as the two Romans,
but they had a kind of brotherly resemblance in their actions and
designs, which took a rise from such beginnings and occasions as I am
now about to relate.
When the love of gold and silver had once gained admittance into the
Lacedaemonian commonwealth, it was quickly followed by avarice and
baseness of spirit in the pursuit of it, and by luxury, effeminacy, and
prodigality in the use. Then Sparta fell from almost all her former
virtue and repute, and so continued till the days of Agis and Leonidas,
who both together were kings of the Lacedaemonians.
Agis was of the royal family of Eurypon, son of Eudamidas, and the
sixth in descent from Agesilaus, who made the expedition into Asia, and
was the greatest man of his time in Greece. Agesilaus left behind him a
son called Archidamus, the same who was slain at Mandonium, in Italy, by
the Messapians, and who was then succeeded by his eldest son Agis. He
being killed by Antipater near Megalopolis, and leaving no issue, was
succeeded by his brother Eudamidas; he, by a son called Archidamus; and
Archidamus, by another Eudamidas, the father of this Agis of whom we now
treat.
Leonidas, son of Cleonymus, was of the other royal house of the
Agiadae, and the eighth in descent from Pausanias, who defeated
Mardonius in the battle of Plataea. Pausanias was succeeded by a son
called Plistoanax; and he, by another Pausanias, who was banished, and
lived as a private man at Tegea; while his eldest son Agesipolis reigned
in his place. He, dying without issue, was succeeded by a younger
brother, called Cleombrotus, who left two sons; the elder was
Agesipolis, who reigned but a short time, and died without issue; the
younger, who then became king, was called Cleomenes, and had also two
sons, Acrotatus and Cleonymus. The first died before his father, but
left a son called Areus, who succeeded, and being slain at Corinth, left
the kingdom to his son Acrotatus. This Acrotatus was defeated, and slain
near Megalopolis, in a battle against the tyrant Aristodemus; he left
his wife big with child, and on her being delivered of a son, Leonidas,
son of the above-named Cleonymus, was made his guardian, and as the
young king died before becoming a man, he succeeded in the kingdom.
Leonidas was a king not particularly suitable to his people. For
though there were at that time at Sparta a general decline in manners,
yet a greater revolt from the old habits appeared in him than in others.
For having lived a long time among the great lords of Persia, and been a
follower of king Seleucus, he unadvisedly thought to imitate, among
Greek institutions and in a lawful government, the pride and assumption
usual in those courts. Agis, on the contrary, in fineness of nature and
elevation of mind, not only far excelled Leonidas, but in a manner all
the kings that had reigned since the great Agesilaus. For though he had
been bred very tenderly, in abundance and even in luxury, by his mother
Agesistrata and his grandmother Archidamia, who were the wealthiest of
the Lacedaemonians, yet before the age of twenty, he renounced all
indulgence in pleasures. Withdrawing himself as far as possible from the
gaiety and ornament which seemed becoming to the grace of his person, he
made it his pride to appear in the coarse Spartan coat. In his meals,
his bathings, and in all his exercises, he followed the old Laconian
usage, and was often heard to say, he had no desire for the place of
king, if he did not hope by means of that authority to restore their
ancient laws and discipline.
The Lacedaemonians might date the beginning of their corruption from
their conquest of Athens, and the influx of gold and silver among them
that thence ensued. Yet, nevertheless, the number of houses which
Lycurgus appointed being still maintained, and the law remaining in
force by which everyone was obliged to leave his lot or portion of land
entirely to his son, a kind of order and equality was thereby preserved,
which still in some degree sustained the state amidst its errors in
other respects. But one Epitadeus happening to be ephor, a man of great
influence, and of a willful, violent spirit, on some occasion of a
quarrel with his son, proposed a decree, that all men should have
liberty to dispose of their land by gift in their lifetime, or by their
last will and testament. This being promoted by him to satisfy a passion
of revenge, and through covetousness consented to by others, and thus
enacted for a law, was the ruin of the best state of the commonwealth.
For the rich men without scruple drew the estates into their own hands,
excluding the rightful heirs from their succession; and all the wealth
being centered upon a few, the generality were poor and miserable.
Honorable pursuits, for which there was no longer leisure, were
neglected; and the state was filled with sordid business, and with
hatred and envy of the rich. There did not remain above seven hundred of
the old Spartan families, of which perhaps one hundred might have
estates in land, the rest were destitute alike of wealth and of honor,
were tardy and unperforming in the defense of their country against its
enemies abroad, and eagerly watched the opportunity for change and
revolution at home.
Agis, therefore, believing it a glorious action, as in truth it was,
to equalize and repeople the state, began to sound the inclinations of
the citizens. He found the young men disposed beyond his expectation;
they were eager to enter with him upon the contest in the cause of
virtue, and to fling aside, for freedom’s sake, their old manner of
life, as readily as the wrestler does his garment. But the old men,
habituated and more confirmed in their vices, were most of them as
alarmed at the very name of Lycurgus, as a fugitive slave to be brought
back before his offended master. These men could not endure to hear Agis
continually deploring the present state of Sparta, and wishing she might
be restored to her ancient glory. But on the other side, Lysander, the
son of Libys, Mandroclidas, the son of Ecphanes, together with
Agesilaus, not only approved his design, but assisted and confirmed him
in it. Lysander had a great authority and credit with the people;
Mandroclidas was esteemed the ablest Greek of his time to manage an
affair and put it in train, and, joined with skill and cunning, had a
great degree of boldness. Agesilaus was the king’s uncle, by the
mother’s side; an eloquent man, but covetous and voluptuous, who was not
moved by considerations of public good, but rather seemed to be
persuaded to it by his son Hippomedon, whose courage and signal actions
in war had gained him a high esteem and great influence among the young
men of Sparta, though indeed the true motive was, that he had many
debts, and hoped by this means to be freed from them.
As soon as Agis had prevailed with his uncle, he endeavored by his
mediation to gain his mother also, who had many friends and followers,
and a number of persons in her debt in the city, and took a considerable
part in public affairs. At the first proposal, she was very averse, and
strongly advised her son not to engage in so difficult and so
unprofitable an enterprise. But Agesilaus endeavored to possess her,
that the thing was not so difficult as she imagined, and that it might,
in all likelihood, redound to the advantage of her family; while the
king, her son, besought her not for money’s sake to decline assisting
his hopes of glory. He told her, he could not pretend to equal other
kings in riches, the very followers and menials of the satraps and
stewards of Seleucus or Ptolemy abounding more in wealth than all the
Spartan kings put together; but if by contempt of wealth and pleasure,
by simplicity and magnanimity, he could surpass their luxury and
abundance, if he could restore their former equality to the Spartans,
then he should be a great king indeed. In conclusion, the mother and the
grandmother also were so taken, so carried away with the inspiration, as
it were, of the young man’s noble and generous ambition, that they not
only consented, but were ready on an occasions to spur him on to a
perseverance, and not only sent to speak on his behalf with the men with
whom they had an interest, but addressed the other women also, knowing
well that the Lacedaemonian wives had always a great power with their
husbands, who used to impart to them their state affairs with greater
freedom than the women would communicate with the men in the private
business of their families. Which was indeed one of the greatest
obstacles to this design; for the money of Sparta being most of it in
the women’s hands, it was their interest to oppose it, not only as
depriving them of those superfluous trifles, in which through want of
better knowledge and experience, they placed their chief felicity, but
also because they knew their riches were the main support of their power
and credit.
Those, therefore, who were of this faction, had recourse to Leonidas,
representing to him, how it was his part, as the elder and more
experienced, to put a stop to the ill-advised projects of a rash young
man. Leonidas, though of himself sufficiently inclined to oppose Agis,
durst not openly, for fear of the people, who were manifestly desirous
of this change; but underhand he did all he could to discredit and
thwart the project, and to prejudice the chief magistrates against him,
and on all occasions craftily insinuated, that it was as the price of
letting him usurp arbitrary power, that Agis thus proposed to divide the
property of the rich among the poor, and that the object of these
measures for canceling debts, and dividing the lands, was, not to
furnish Sparta with citizens, but purchase him a tyrant’s body-guard.
Agis, nevertheless, little regarding these rumors, procured
Lysander’s election as ephor; and then took the first occasion of
proposing through him his Rhetra to the council, the chief articles of
which were these: That every one should be free from their debts; all
the lands to be divided into equal portions, those that lay betwixt the
watercourse near Pellene and Mount Taygetus, and as far as the cities of
Malea and Sellasia, into four thousand five hundred lots, the remainder
into fifteen thousand; these last to be shared out among those of the
country people who were fit for service as heavy-armed soldiers, the
first among the natural born Spartans; and their number also should be
supplied from any among the country people or strangers who had received
the proper breeding of freemen, and were of vigorous, body and of age
for military service. All these were to be divided into fifteen
companies, some of four hundred, and some of two, with a diet and
discipline agreeable to the laws of Lycurgus.
This decree being proposed in the council of Elders, met there with
opposition; so that Lysander immediately convoked the great assembly of
the people, to whom he, Mandroclidas, and Agesilaus made orations,
exhorting them that they would not suffer the majesty of Sparta to
remain abandoned to contempt, to gratify a few rich men, who lorded it
over them; but that they should call to mind the oracles in old time
which had forewarned them to beware of the love of money, as the great
danger and probable ruin of Sparta, and, moreover, those recently
brought from the temple of Pasiphae. This was a famous temple and oracle
at Thalamae; and this Pasiphae, some say, was one of the daughters of
Atlas, who had by Jupiter a son called Ammon; others are of opinion it
was Cassandra, the daughter of king Priam, who, dying in this place, was
called Pasiphae, as the revealer of oracles to all men. Phylarchus says,
that this was Daphne, the daughter of Amyclas, who, flying from Apollo,
was transformed into a laurel, and honored by that god with the gift of
prophecy. But be it as it will, it is certain the people were made to
apprehend, that this oracle had commanded them to return to their former
state of equality settled by Lycurgus. As soon as these had done
speaking, Agis stood up, and after a few words, told them he would make
the best contribution in his power to the new legislation, which was
proposed for their advantage. In the first place, he would divide among
them all his patrimony, which was of large extent in tillage and
pasture; he would also give six hundred talents in ready money, and his
mother, grandmother, and his other friends and relations, who were the
richest of the Lacedaemonians, were ready to follow his example.
The people were transported with admiration of the young man’s
generosity, and with joy, that after three hundred years’ interval, at
last there had appeared a king worthy of Sparta. But, on the other side,
Leonidas was now more than ever averse, being sensible that he and his
friends would be obliged to contribute with their riches, and yet all
the honor and obligation would redound to Agis. He asked him then before
them all, whether Lycurgus were not in his opinion a wise man, and a
lover of his country. Agis answering he was, “And when did Lycurgus,”
replied Leonidas, “cancel debts, or admit strangers to citizenship, — he
who thought the commonwealth not secure unless from time to time the
city was cleared of all strangers?” To this Agis replied, “It is no
wonder that Leonidas, who was brought up and married abroad, and has
children by a wife taken out of a Persian court, should know little of
Lycurgus or his laws. Lycurgus took away both debts and loans, by taking
away money; and objected indeed to the presence of men who were foreign
to the manners and customs of the country, not in any case from an
ill-will to their persons, but lest the example of their lives and
conduct should infect the city with the love of riches, and of delicate
and luxurious habits. For it is well known that he himself gladly kept
Terpander, Thales, and Pherecycles, though they were strangers, because
he perceived they were in their poems and in their philosophy of the
same mind with him. And you that are wont to praise Ecprepes, who, being
ephor, cut with his hatchet two of the nine strings from the instrument
of Phrynis, the musician, and to commend those who afterwards imitated
him, in cutting the strings of Timotheus’s harp, with what face can you
blame us, for designing to cut off superfluity and luxury and display
from the commonwealth? Do you think those men were so concerned only
about a lute-string, or intended anything else than to check in music
that same excess and extravagance which rule in our present lives and
manners, and have disturbed and destroyed all the harmony and order of
our city?”
From this time forward, as the common people followed Agis, so the
rich men adhered to Leonidas. They be sought him not to forsake their
cause; and with persuasions and entreaties so far prevailed with the
council of Elders, whose power consisted in preparing all laws before
they were proposed to the people, that the designed Rhetra was rejected,
though but by only one vote. Whereupon Lysander, who was still ephor,
resolving to be revenged on Leonidas, drew up an information against
him, grounded on two old laws: the one forbids any of the blood of
Hercules to raise up children by a foreign woman, and the other makes it
capital for a Lacedaemonian to leave his country to settle among
foreigners. Whilst he set others on to manage this accusation, he with
his colleagues went to observe the sign, which was a custom they had,
and performed in this manner. Every ninth year, the ephors, choosing a
starlight night, when there is neither cloud nor moon, sit down together
in quiet and silence, and watch the sky. And if they chance to see the
shooting of a star, they presently pronounce their king guilty of some
offense against the gods, and thereupon he is immediately suspended from
all exercise of regal power, till he is relieved by an oracle from
Delphi or Olympia.
Lysander, therefore, assured the people, he had seen a star shoot,
and at the same time Leonidas was cited to answer for himself. Witnesses
were produced to testify he had married an Asian woman, bestowed on him
by one of king Seleucus’s lieutenants; that he had two children by her,
but she so disliked and hated him, that, against his wishes, flying from
her, he was in a manner forced to return to Sparta, where, his
predecessor dying without issue, he took upon him the government.
Lysander, not content with this, persuaded also Cleombrotus to lay claim
to the kingdom. He was of the royal family, and son-in-law to Leonidas;
who, fearing now the event of this process, fled as a suppliant to the
temple of Minerva of the Brazen House, together with his daughter, the
wife of Cleombrotus; for she in this occasion resolved to leave her
husband, and to follow her father. Leonidas being again cited, and not
appearing, they pronounced a sentence of deposition against him, and
made Cleombrotus king in his place.
Soon after this revolution, Lysander, his year expiring, went out of
his office, and new ephors were chosen, who gave Leonidas assurance of
safety, and cited Lysander and Mandroclidas to answer for having,
contrary to law, canceled debts, and designed a new division of lands.
They, seeing themselves in danger, had recourse to the two kings, and
represented to them, how necessary it was for their interest and safety
to act with united authority and bid defiance to the ephors. For,
indeed, the power of the ephors, they said, was only grounded on the
dissensions of the kings, it being their privilege, when the kings
differed in opinion, to add their suffrage to whichever they judged to
have given the best advice; but when the two kings were unanimous, none
ought or durst resist their authority, the magistrate, whose office it
was to stand as umpire when they were at variance, had no call to
interfere when they were of one mind. Agis and Cleombrotus, thus
persuaded, went together with their friends into the market-place,
where, removing the ephors from their seats, they placed others in their
room of whom Agesilaus was one; proceeding then to arm a company of
young men, and releasing many out of prison; so that those of the
contrary faction began to be in great fear of their lives; but there was
no blood spilt. On the contrary, Agis, having notice that Agesilaus had
ordered a company of soldiers to lie in wait for Leonidas, to kill him
as he fled to Tegea, immediately sent some of his followers to defend
him, and to convey him safely into that city.
Thus far all things proceeded prosperously, none daring to oppose;
but through the sordid weakness of one man these promising beginnings
were blasted, and a most noble and truly Spartan purpose overthrown and
ruined, by the love of money. Agesilaus, as we said, was much in debt,
though in possession of one of the largest and best estates in land; and
while he gladly joined in this design to be quit of his debts, he was
not at all willing to part with his land. Therefore he persuaded Agis,
that if both these things should be put in execution at the same time,
so great and so sudden an alteration might cause some dangerous
commotion; but if debts were in the first place canceled, the rich men
would afterwards more easily be prevailed with to part with their land.
Lysander, also, was of the same opinion, being deceived in like manner
by the craft of Agesilaus; so that all men were presently commanded to
bring in their bonds, or deeds of obligation, by the Lacedaemonians
called Claria, into the market-place, where being laid together in a
heap, they set fire to them. The wealthy, money-lending people, one may
easily imagine, beheld it with a heavy heart; but Agesilaus told them
scoffingly, his eyes had never seen so bright and so pure a flame.
And now the people pressed earnestly for an immediate division of
lands; the kings also had ordered it should be done; but Agesilaus,
sometimes pretending one difficulty, and sometimes another, delayed the
execution, till an occasion happened to call Agis to the wars. The
Achaeans, in virtue of a defensive treaty of alliance, sent to demand
succors, as they expected every day that the Aetolians would attempt to
enter Peloponnesus, from the territory of Megara. They had sent Aratus,
their general, to collect forces to hinder this incursion. Aratus wrote
to the ephors, who immediately gave order that Agis should hasten to
their assistance with the Lacedaemonian auxiliaries. Agis was extremely
pleased to see the zeal and bravery of those who went with him upon this
expedition. They were for the most part young men, and poor; and being
just released from their debts and set at liberty, and hoping on their
return to receive each man his lot of land, they followed their king
with wonderful alacrity. The cities through which they passed, were in
admiration to see how they marched from one end of Peloponnesus to the
other, without the least disorder, and, in a manner, without being
heard. It gave the Greeks occasion to discourse with one another, how
great might be the temperance and modesty of a Laconian army in old
time, under their famous captains Agesilaus, Lysander, or Leonidas,
since they saw such discipline and exact obedience under a leader who
perhaps was the youngest man all the army. They saw also how he was
himself content to fare hardly, ready to undergo any labors, and not to
be distinguished by pomp or richness of habit or arms from the meanest
of his soldiers; and to people in general it was an object of regard and
admiration. But rich men viewed the innovation with dislike and alarm,
lest haply the example might spread, and work changes to their prejudice
in their own countries as well.
Agis joined Aratus near the city of Corinth, where it was still a
matter of debate whether or no it were expedient to give the enemy
battle. Agis, on this occasion, showed great forwardness and resolution,
yet without temerity or presumption. He declared it was his opinion they
ought to fight, thereby to hinder the enemy from passing the gates of
Peloponnesus, but, nevertheless, he would submit to the judgment of
Aratus, not only as the elder and more experienced captain, but as he
was general of the Achaeans, whose forces he would not pretend to
command, but was only come thither to assist them. I am not ignorant
that Baton of Sinope, relates it in another manner; he says, Aratus
would have fought, and that Agis was against it; but it is certain he
was mistaken, not having read what Aratus himself wrote in his own
justification, that knowing the people had wellnigh got in their
harvest, he thought it much better to let the enemy pass, than put all
to the hazard of a battle. And therefore, giving thanks to the
confederates for their readiness, he dismissed them. And Agis, not
without having gained a great deal of honor, returned to Sparta, where
he found the people in disorder, and a new revolution imminent, owing to
the ill government of Agesilaus.
For he, being now one of the ephors, and freed from the fear which
formerly kept him in some restraint, forbore no kind of oppression which
might bring in gain. Among other things, he exacted a thirteenth month’s
tax, whereas the usual cycle required at this time no such addition to
the year. For these and other reasons fearing those whom he injured, and
knowing how he was hated by the people, he thought it necessary to
maintain a guard, which always accompanied him to the magistrate’s
office. And presuming now on his power, he was grown so insolent, that
of the two kings, the one he openly contemned, and if he showed any
respect towards Agis, would have it thought rather an effect of his near
relationship, than any duty or submission to the royal authority. He
gave it out also, that he was to continue ephor the ensuing year.
His enemies, therefore, alarmed by this report, lost no time in
risking an attempt against him; and openly bringing hack Leonidas from
Tegea, reestablished him in the kingdom, to which even the people,
highly incensed for having been defrauded in the promised division of
lands, willingly consented. Agesilaus himself would hardly have escaped
their fury, if his son, Hippomedon, whose manly virtues made him dear to
all, had not saved him out of their hands, and then privately conveyed
him from the city.
During this commotion, the two kings fled, Agis to the temple of the
Brazen House, and Cleombrotus to that of Neptune. For Leonidas was more
incensed against his son-in-law; and leaving Agis alone, went with his
soldiers to Cleombrotus’s sanctuary, and there with great passion
reproached him for having, though he was his son-in-law, conspired with
his enemies, usurped his throne, and forced him from his country.
Cleombrotus, having little to say for himself, sat silent. His wife,
Chilonis, the daughter of Leonidas, had chosen to follow her father in
his sufferings; for when Cleombrotus usurped the kingdom, she forsook
him, and wholly devoted herself to comfort her father in his affliction;
whilst he still remained in Sparta, she remained also, as a suppliant,
with him, and when he fled, she fled with him, bewailing his misfortune,
and extremely displeased with Cleombrotus. But now, upon this turn of
fortune, she changed in like manner, and was seen sitting now, as a
suppliant, with her husband, embracing him with her arms, and having her
two little children beside her. All men were full of wonder at the piety
and tender affection of the young woman, who, pointing to her robes and
her hair, both alike neglected and unattended to, said to Leonidas, “I
am not brought, my father, to this condition you see me in, on account
of the present misfortunes of Cleombrotus; my mourning habit is long
since familiar to me. It was put on to condole with you in your
banishment; and now you are restored to your country, and to your
kingdom, must I still remain in grief and misery? Or would you have me
attired in my royal ornaments, that I may rejoice with you, when you
have killed, within my arms, the man to whom you gave me for a wife?
Either Cleombrotus must appease you by mine and my children’s tears, or
he must suffer a punishment greater than you propose for his faults, and
shall see me, whom he loves so well, die before him. To what end should
I live, or how shall I appear among the Spartan women, when it shall so
manifestly be seen, that I have not been able to move to compassion
either a husband or a father? I was born, it seems, to participate in
the ill fortune and in the disgrace, both as a wife and a daughter, of
those nearest and dearest to me. As for Cleombrotus, I sufficiently
surrendered any honorable plea on his behalf, when I forsook him to
follow you; but you yourself offer the fairest excuse for his
proceedings, by showing to the world that for the sake of a kingdom, it
is just to kill a son-in-law, and be regardless of a daughter.”
Chilonis, having ended this lamentation, rested her face on her
husband’s head, and looked round with her weeping and woebegone eyes
upon those who stood be fore her.
Leonidas, touched with compassion, withdrew a while to advise with
his friends; then returning, bade Cleombrotus leave the sanctuary and go
into banishment; Chilonis, he said, ought to stay with him, it not being
just she should forsake a father whose affection had granted to her
intercession the life of her husband. But all he could say would not
prevail. She rose up immediately, and taking one of her children in her
arms, gave the other to her husband; and making her reverence to the
altar of the goddess, went out and followed him. So that, in a word, if
Cleombrotus were not utterly blinded by ambition, he must surely choose
to be banished with so excellent a woman rather than without her to
possess a kingdom.
Cleombrotus thus removed, Leonidas proceeded also to displace the
ephors, and to choose others in their room; then he began to consider
how he might entrap Agis. At first, he endeavored by fair means to
persuade him to leave the sanctuary, and partake with him in the
kingdom. The people, he said, would easily pardon the errors of a young
man, ambitious of glory, and deceived by the craft of Agesilaus. But
finding Agis was suspicious, and not to be prevailed with to quit his
sanctuary, he gave up that design; yet what could not then be effected
by the dissimulation of an enemy, was soon after brought to pass by the
treachery of friends.
Amphares, Damochares, and Arcesilaus often visited Agis, and he was
so confident of their fidelity that after a while he was prevailed with
to accompany them to the baths, which were not far distant, they
constantly returning to see him safe again in the temple. They were all
three his familiars; and Amphares had borrowed a great deal of plate and
rich household stuff from Agesistrata, and hoped if he could destroy her
and the whole family, he might peaceably enjoy those goods. And he, it
is said, was the readiest of all to serve the purposes of Leonidas, and
being one of the ephors, did all he could to incense the rest of his
colleagues against Agis. These men, therefore, finding that Agis would
not quit his sanctuary, but on occasion would venture from it to go to
the bath, resolved to seize him on the opportunity thus given them. And
one day as he was returning, they met and saluted him as formerly,
conversing pleasantly by the way, and jesting, as youthful friends
might, till coming to the turning of a street which led to the prison,
Amphares, by virtue of his office, laid his hand on Agis, and told him,
“You must go with me, Agis, before the other ephors, to answer for your
misdemeanors.” At the same time, Damochares, who was a tall, strong man,
drew his cloak tight round his neck, and dragged him after by it, whilst
the others went behind to thrust him on. So that none of Agis’s friends
being near to assist him, nor anyone by, they easily got him into the
prison, where Leonidas was already arrived, with a company of soldiers,
who strongly guarded all the avenues; the ephors also came in, with as
many of the Elders as they knew to be true to their party, being
desirous to proceed with some resemblance of justice. And thus they bade
him give an account of his actions. To which Agis, smiling at their
dissimulation, answered not a word. Amphares told him, it was more
seasonable to weep, for now the time was come in which he should be
punished for his presumption. Another of the ephors, as though he would
be more favorable, and offering as it were an excuse, asked him whether
he was not forced to what he did by Agesilaus and Lysander. But Agis
answered, he had not been constrained by any man, nor had any other
intent in what he did, but only to follow the example of Lycurgus, and
to govern conformably to his laws. The same ephor asked him, whether now
at least he did not repent his rashness. To which the young man
answered, that though he were to suffer the extremest penalty for it,
yet he could never repent of so just and so glorious a design. Upon this
they passed sentence of death on him, and bade the officers carry him to
the Dechas, as it is called, a place in the prison where they strangle
malefactors. And when the officers would not venture to lay hands on
him, and the very mercenary soldiers declined it, believing it an
illegal and a wicked act to lay violent hands on a king, Damochares,
threatening and reviling them for it, himself thrust him into the room.
For by this time the news of his being seized had reached many parts
of the city, and there was a concourse of people with lights and torches
about the prison gates, and in the midst of them the mother and the
grandmother of Agis, crying out with a loud voice, that their king ought
to appear, and to be heard and judged by the people. But this clamor,
instead of preventing, hastened his death; his enemies fearing, if the
tumult should increase, he might be rescued during the night out of
their hands.
Agis, being now at the point to die, perceived one of the officers
bitterly bewailing his misfortune; “Weep not, friend,” said he, “for me,
who die innocent, by the lawless act of wicked men. My condition is much
better than theirs.” As soon as he had spoken these words, not showing
the least sign of fear, he offered his neck to the noose.
Immediately after he was dead, Amphares went out of the prison gate,
where he found Agesistrata, who, believing him still the same friend as
before, threw herself at his feet. He gently raised her up, and assured
her, she need not fear any further violence or danger of death for her
son, and that if she pleased, she might go in and see him. She begged
her mother might also have the favor to be admitted, and he replied,
nobody should hinder it. When they were entered, he commanded the gate
should again be locked, and Archidamia, the grandmother, to be first
introduced; she was now grown very old, and had lived all her days in
the highest repute among her fellows. As soon as Amphares thought she
was dispatched, he told Agesistrata she might now go in if she pleased.
She entered, and beholding her son’s body stretched on the ground, and
her mother hanging by the neck, the first thing she did was, with her
own hands, to assist the officers in taking down the body; then covering
it decently, she laid it out by her son’s, whom then embracing, and
kissing his cheeks, “O my son,” said she, “it was thy too great mercy
and goodness which brought thee and us to ruin.” Amphares, who stood
watching behind the door, on hearing this, broke in, and said angrily to
her, “ Since you approve so well of your son’s actions, it is fit you
should partake in his reward.” She, rising up to offer herself to the
noose, said only, “I pray that it may redound to the good of Sparta.”
And now the three bodies being exposed to view, and the fact
divulged, no fear was strong enough to hinder the people from expressing
their abhorrence of what was done, and their detestation of Leonidas and
Amphares, the contrivers of it. So wicked and barbarous an act had never
been committed in Sparta, since first the Dorians inhabited
Peloponnesus; the very enemies in war, they said, were always cautious
of spilling the blood of a Lacedaemonian king, insomuch that in any
combat they would decline, and endeavor to avoid them, from feelings of
respect and reverence for their station. And certainly we see that in
the many battles fought betwixt the Lacedaemonians and the other Greeks,
up to the time of Philip of Macedon, not one of their kings was ever
killed, except Cleombrotus, by a javelin-wound, at the battle of Leuctra.
I am not ignorant that the Messenians affirm, Theopompus was also slain
by their Aristomenes; but the Lacedaemonians deny it, and say he was
only wounded.
Be it as it will, it is certain at least that Agis was the first king
put to death in Lacedaemon by the ephors, for having undertaken a design
noble in itself and worthy of his country, at a time of life when men’s
errors usually meet with an easy pardon. And if errors he did commit,
his enemies certainly had less reason to blame him, than had his friends
for that gentle and compassionate temper which made him save the life of
Leonidas, and believe in other men’s professions.
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Cleomenes
Thus fell Agis. His brother Archidamus was too quick for Leonidas,
and saved himself by a timely retreat. But his wife, then mother of a
young child, he forced from her own house, and compelled Agiatis, for
that was her name, to marry his son Cleomenes, though at that time too
young for a wife, because he was unwilling that anyone else should have
her, being heiress to her father Glylippus’s great estate; in person the
most youthful and beautiful woman in all Greece, and well-conducted in
her habits of life. And therefore, they say, she did all she could that
she might not be compelled to this new marriage. But being thus united
to Cleomenes, she indeed hated Leonidas, but to the youth showed herself
a kind and obliging wife. He, as soon as they came together, began to
love her very much, and the constant kindness that she still retained
for the memory of Agis, wrought somewhat of the like feeling in the
young man for him, so that he would often inquire of her concerning what
had passed, and attentively listen to the story of Agis’s purpose and
design. Now Cleomenes had a generous and great soul; he was as temperate
and moderate in his pleasures as Agis, but not so scrupulous,
circumspect, and gentle. There was something of heat and passion always
goading him on, and an impetuosity and violence in his eagerness to
pursue anything which he thought good and just. To have men obey him of
their own freewill, he conceived to be the best discipline; but,
likewise, to subdue resistance, and force them to the better course,
was, in his opinion, commendable and brave.
This disposition made him dislike the management of the city. The
citizens lay dissolved in supine idleness and pleasures; the king let
everything take its own way, thankful if nobody gave him any
disturbance, nor called him away from the enjoyment of his wealth and
luxury. The public interest was neglected, and each man intent upon his
private gain. It was dangerous, now Agis was killed, so much as to name
such a thing as the exercising and training of their youth; and to speak
of the ancient temperance, endurance, and equality, was a sort of
treason against the state. It is said also that Cleomenes, whilst a boy,
studied philosophy under Sphaerus, the Borysthenite, who crossed over to
Sparta, and spent some time and trouble in instructing the youth.
Sphaerus was one of the first of Zeno the Citiean’s scholars, and it is
likely enough that he admired the manly temper of Cleomenes and inflamed
his generous ambition. The ancient Leonidas, as story tells, being asked
what manner of poet he thought Tyrtaeus, replied, “Good to whet young
men’s courage;” for being filled with a divine fury by his poems, they
rushed into any danger. And so the stoic philosophy is a dangerous
incentive to strong and fiery dispositions, but where it combines with a
grave and gentle temper, is most successful in leading it to its proper
good.
Upon the death of his father Leonidas, he succeeded, and observing
the citizens of all sorts to be debauched, the rich neglecting the
public good, and intent on their private gain and pleasure, and the poor
distressed in their own homes, and therefore without either spirit for
war or ambition to be trained up as Spartans, that he had only the name
of king, and the ephors all the power, he was resolved to change the
present posture of affairs. He had a friend whose name was Xenares, his
lover, (such an affection the Spartans express by the term, being
inspired, or imbreathed with); him he sounded, and of him he would
commonly inquire what manner of king Agis was, by what means and by what
assistance he began and pursued his designs. Xenares, at first,
willingly compiled with his request, and told him the whole story, with
all the particular circumstances of the actions. But when he observed
Cleomenes to be extremely affected at the relation, and more than
ordinarily taken with Agis’s new model of the government, and begging a
repetition of the story, he at first severely chid him, told him he was
frantic, and at last left off all sort of familiarity and intercourse
with him, yet he never told any man the cause of their disagreement, but
would only say, Cleomenes knew very well. Cleomenes, finding Xenares
averse to his designs, and thinking all others to be of the same
disposition, consulted with none, but contrived the whole business by
himself. And considering that it would be easier to bring about an
alteration when the city was at war, than when in peace, he engaged the
commonwealth in a quarrel with the Achaeans, who had given them fair
occasions to complain. For Aratus, a man of the greatest power amongst
all the Achaeans, designed from the very beginning to bring all the
Peloponnesians into one common body. And to effect this was the one
object of all his many commanderships and his long political course; as
he thought this the only means to make them a match for their foreign
enemies. Pretty nearly all the rest agreed to his proposals, only the
Lacedaemonians, the Eleans, and as many of the Arcadians as inclined to
the Spartan interest, remained unpersuaded. And so as soon as Leonidas
was dead, he began to attack the Arcadians, and wasted those especially
that bordered on Achaea, by this means designing to try the inclinations
of the Spartans, and despising Cleomenes as a youth, and of no
experience in affairs of state or war. Upon this, the ephors sent
Cleomenes to surprise the Athenaeum, near Belbina, which is a pass
commanding an entrance into Laconia and was then the subject of
litigation with the Megalopolitans. Cleomenes possessed himself of the
place, and fortified it, at which action Aratus showed no public
resentment, but marched by night to surprise Tegea and Orchormenus. The
design failed, for those that were to betray the cities into his hands,
turned afraid; so Aratus retreated, imagining that his design had been
undiscovered. But Cleomenes wrote a sarcastic letter to him, and desired
to know, as from a friend, whither he intended to march at night; and
Aratus answering, that having heard of his design to fortify Belbina, he
meant to march thither to oppose him, Cleomenes rejoined, that he did
not dispute it, but begged to be informed, if he might be allowed to ask
the question, why he carried those torches and ladders with him.
Aratus laughing at the jest, and asking what manner of youth this
was, Damocrates, a Spartan exile, replied, “If you have any designs upon
the Lacedaemonians, begin before this young eagle’s talons are grown.”
Presently after this, Cleomenes, encamping in Arcadia with a few horse
and three hundred foot, received orders from the ephors, who feared to
engage in the war, commanding him home; but when upon his retreat Aratus
took Caphyae, they commissioned him again. In this expedition he took
Methydrium, and overran the country of the Argives; and the Achaeans, to
oppose him, came out with an army of twenty thousand foot and one
thousand horse, under the command of Aristomachus. Cleomenes faced them
at Pallantium, and offered battle, but Aratus, being cowed by his
bravery, would not suffer the general to engage, but retreated, amidst
the reproaches of the Achaeans, and the derision and scorn of the
Spartans, who were not above five thousand. Cleomenes, encouraged by
this success, began to speak boldly among the citizens, and reminding
them of a sentence of one of their ancient kings, said, it was in vain
now that the Spartans asked, not how many their enemies were, but where
they were. After this, marching to the assistance of the Eleans, whom
the Achaeans were attacking, falling upon the enemy in their retreat
near the Lycaeum, he put their whole army to flight, taking a great
number of captives, and leaving many dead upon the place; so that it was
commonly reported amongst the Greeks that Aratus was slain. But Aratus,
making the best advantage of the opportunity, immediately after the
defeat marched to Mantinea, and before anybody suspected it, took the
city, and put a garrison into it. Upon this, the Lacedaemonians being
quite discouraged, and opposing Cleomenes’s designs of carrying on the
war, he now exerted himself to have Archidamus, the brother of Agis,
sent for from Messene, as he, of the other family, had a right to the
kingdom ; and besides, Cleomenes thought that the power of the ephors
would be reduced, when the kingly state was thus filled up, and raised
to its proper position. But those that were concerned in the murder of
Agis, perceiving the design, and fearing that upon Archidamus’s return
they should be called to an account, received him on his coming
privately into town, and joined in bringing him home, and presently
after murdered him. Whether Cleomenes was against it, as Phylarchus
thinks, or whether he was persuaded by his friends, or let him fall into
their hands, is uncertain; however, they were most blamed, as having
forced his consent.
He, still resolving to new model the state, bribed the ephors to send
him out to war; and won the affections of many others by means of his
mother Cratesiclea, who spared no cost and was very zealous to promote
her son’s ambition; and though of herself she had no inclination to
marry, yet for his sake, she accepted, as her husband, one of the
chiefest citizens for wealth and power. Cleomenes, marching forth with
the army now under his commend, took Leuctra, a place belonging to
Megalopolis; and the Achaeans quickly coming up to resist him with a
good body of men commanded by Aratus, in a battle under the very walls
of the city some part of his army was routed. But whereas Aratus had
commanded the Achaeans not to pass a deep watercourse, and thus put a
stop to the pursuit, Lydiadas, the Megalopolitan, fretting at the
orders, and encouraging the horse which he led, and following the routed
enemy, got into a place full of vines, hedges, and ditches; and being
forced to break his ranks, began to retire in disorder. Cleomenes,
observing the advantage, commanded the Tarentines and Cretans to engage
him, by whom, after a brave defense, he was routed and slain. The
Lacedaemonians, thus encouraged, fell with a great shout upon the
Achaeans, and routed their whole army. Of the slain, who were very many,
the rest Cleomenes delivered up, when the enemy petitioned for them; but
the body of Lydiadas he commanded to be brought to him; and then putting
on it a purple robe, and a crown upon its head, sent a convoy with it to
the gates of Megalopolis. This is that Lydiadas who resigned his power
as tyrant, restored liberty to the citizens, and joined the city to the
Achaean interest.
Cleomenes, being very much elated by this success, and persuaded that
if matters were wholly at his disposal, he should soon be too hard for
the Achaeans, persuaded Megistonus, his mother’s husband, that it was
expedient for the state to shake off the power of the ephors, and to put
all their wealth into one common stock for the whole body; thus Sparta,
being restored to its old equality, might aspire again to the command of
all Greece. Megistonus liked the design, and engaged two or three more
of his friends. About that time, one of the ephors, sleeping in
Pasiphae’s temple, dreamed a very surprising dream; for he thought he
saw the four chairs removed out of the place where the ephors used to
sit and do the business of their office, and one only set there; and
whilst he wondered, he heard a voice out of the temple, saying, “This is
best for Sparta.” The person telling Cleomenes this dream, he was a
little troubled at first, fearing that he used this as a trick to sift
him, upon some suspicion of his design, but when he was satisfied that
the relater spoke truth, he took heart again. And carrying with him
those whom he thought would be most against his project, he took Heraea
and Alsaea, two towns in league with the Achaeans, furnished Orchomenus
with provisions, encamped before Mantinea, and with long marches up and
down so harassed the Lacedaemonians, that many of them at their own
request were left behind in Arcadia, while he with the mercenaries went
on toward Sparta, and by the way communicated his design to those whom
he thought fittest for his purpose, and marched slowly, that he might
catch the ephors at supper.
When he was come near the city, he sent Euryclidas to the public
table, where the ephors supped, under pretense of carrying some message
from him from the army; Therycion, Phoebis, and two of those who had
been bred up with Cleomenes, whom they call mothaces, followed with a
few soldiers; and whilst Euryclidas was delivering his message to the
ephors, they ran upon them with their drawn swords, and slew them. The
first of them, Agylaeus, on receiving the blow, fell and lay as dead;
but in a little time quietly raising himself, and drawing himself out of
the room, he crept, without being discovered, into a little building
which was dedicated to Fear, and which always used to be shut, but then
by chance was open; and being got in, he shut the door, and lay close.
The other four were killed, and above ten more that came to their
assistance; to those that were quiet they did no harm, stopped none that
fled from the city, and spared Agylaeus, when he came out of the temple
the next day.
The Lacedaemonians have not only sacred places dedicated to Fear, but
also to Death, Laughter, and the like Passions. Now they worship Fear,
not as they do supernatural powers which they dread, esteeming it
hurtful, but thinking their polity is chiefly kept up by fear. And
therefore, the ephors, Aristotle is my author, when they entered upon
their government, made proclamation to the people, that they should
shave their mustaches, and be obedient to the laws, that the laws might
not be hard upon them, making, I suppose, this trivial injunction, to
accustom their youth to obedience even in the smallest matters. And the
ancients, I think, did not imagine bravery to be plain fearlessness, but
a cautious fear of blame and disgrace. For those that show most timidity
towards the laws, are most bold against their enemies; and those are
least afraid of any danger who are most afraid of a just reproach.
Therefore it was well said that
A reverence still attends on fear;
and by Homer,
Feared you shall be, dear father, and revered;
and again,
In silence fearing those that bore the sway;
for the generality of men are most ready to reverence those whom they
fear. And, therefore, the Lacedaemonians placed the temple of Fear by
the Syssitium of the ephors, having raised that magistracy to almost
royal authority.
The next day, Cleomenes proscribed eighty of the citizens, whom he
thought necessary to banish, and removed all the seats of the ephors,
except one, in which he himself designed to sit and give audience; and
calling the citizens together, he made an apology for his proceedings,
saying, that by Lycurgus the council of Elders was joined to the kings,
and that that model of government had continued a long time, and no
other sort of magistrates had been wanted. But afterwards, in the long
war with the Messenians, when the kings, having to command the army,
found no time to administer justice, they chose some of their friends,
and left them to determine the suits of the citizens in their stead.
These were called ephors, and at first behaved themselves as servants to
the kings; but afterwards, by degrees, they appropriated the power to
themselves and erected a distinct magistracy. An evidence of the truth
of this was the custom still observed by the kings, who, when the ephors
send for them, refuse, upon the first and the second summons, to go, but
upon the third, rise up and attend them. And Asteropus, the first that
raised the ephors to that height of power, lived a great many years
after their institution. So long, therefore, he continued, as they
contained themselves within their own proper sphere, it had been better
to bear with them than to make a disturbance. But that an upstart,
introduced power should so far subvert the ancient form of government as
to banish some kings, murder others, without hearing their defense, and
threaten those who desired to see the best and most divine constitution
restored in Sparta, was not to be borne. Therefore, if it had been
possible for him, without bloodshed, to free Lacedaemon from those
foreign plagues, luxury, sumptuosity, debts, and usury, and from those
yet more ancient evils, poverty and riches, he should have thought
himself the happiest king in the world, to have succeeded, like an
expert physician, in curing the diseases of his country without pain.
But now, in this necessity, Lycurgus’s example favored his proceedings,
who being neither king nor magistrate, but a private man, and aiming at
the kingdom, came armed into the market-place, so that king Charillus
fled in alarm to the altar. He, being a good man, and a lover of his
country, readily concurred in Lycurgus’s designs, and admitted the
revolution in the state. But, by his own actions, Lycurgus had
nevertheless borne witness that it was difficult to change the
government without force and fear, in the use of which he himself, he
said, had been so moderate as to do no more than put out of the way
those who opposed themselves to Sparta’s happiness and safety. For the
rest of the nation, he told them, the whole land was now their common
property; debtors should be cleared of their debts, and examination made
of those who were not citizens, that the bravest men might thus be made
free Spartans, and give aid in arms to save the city, and “We” he said,
“may no longer see Laconia, for want of men to defend it, wasted by the
Aetolians and Illyrians.”
Then he himself first, with his step-father, Megistonus, and his
friends, gave up all their wealth into one public stock, and all the
other citizens followed the example. The land was divided, and everyone
that he had banished, had a share assigned him; for he promised to
restore all, as soon as things were settled and in quiet. And completing
the number of citizens out of the best and most promising of the country
people, he raised a body of four thousand men; and instead of a spear,
taught them to use a surissu, with both hands, and to carry their
shields by a band, and not by a handle, as before. After this, he began
to consult about the education of the youth, and the Discipline, as they
call it; most of the particulars of which, Sphaerus, being then at
Sparta, assisted in arranging; and, in a short time, the schools of
exercise and the common tables recovered their ancient decency and
order, a few out of necessity, but the most voluntarily, returning to
that generous and Laconic way of living. And, that the name of monarch
might give them no jealousy, he made Euclidas, his brother, partner in
the throne; and that was the only time that Sparta had two kings of the
same family.
Then, understanding that the Achaeans and Aratus imagined that this
change had disturbed and shaken his affairs, and that he would not
venture out of Sparta and leave the city now unsettled in the midst of
so great an alteration, he thought it great and serviceable to his
designs, to show his enemies the zeal and forwardness of his troops.
And, therefore, making an incursion into the territories of Megalopolis,
he wasted the country far and wide, and collected a considerable booty.
And, at last, taking a company of actors, as they were traveling from
Messene, and building a theater in the enemy’s country, and offering a
prize of forty minae in value, he sat spectator a whole day; not that he
either desired or needed such amusement, but wishing to show his
disregard for his enemies, and by a display of his contempt, to prove
the extent of his superiority to them. For his alone, of all the Greek
or royal armies, had no stage-players, no jugglers, no dancing or
singing women attending it, but was free from all sorts of looseness,
wantonness, and festivity; the young men being for the most part at
their exercises, and the old men giving them lessons, or, at leisure
times, diverting themselves with their native jests, and quick Laconian
answers; the good results of which we have noticed in the life of
Lycurgus.
He himself instructed all by his example; he was a living pattern of
temperance before every man’s eyes; and his course of living was neither
more stately, nor more expensive, nor in any way more pretentious, than
that of any of his people. And this was a considerable advantage to him
in his designs on Greece. For men when they waited upon other kings, did
not so much admire their wealth, costly furniture, and numerous
attendance, as they hated their pride and state, their difficulty of
access, and imperious answers to their addresses. But when they came to
Cleomenes, who was both really a king, and bore that title, and saw no
purple, no robes of state upon him, no couches and litters about him for
his ease, and that he did not receive requests and return answers after
a long delay and difficulty, through a number of messengers and
doorkeepers, or by memorials, but that he rose and came forward in any
dress he might happen to be wearing, to meet those that came to wait
upon him, stayed, talked freely and affably with all that had business,
they were extremely taken, and won to his service, and professed that he
alone was the true son of Hercules. His common every day’s meal was in
an ordinary room, very sparing, and after the Laconic manner; and when
he entertained ambassadors or strangers, two more couches were added,
and a little better dinner provided by his servants, but no savoring
sauces or sweetmeats; only the dishes were larger, and the wine more
plentiful. For he reproved one of his friends for entertaining some
strangers with nothing but barley bread and black broth, such diet as
they usually had in their phiditia; saying, that upon such occasions,
and when they entertained strangers, it was not well to be too exact
Laconians. After the table was removed, a stand was brought in, with a
brass vessel full of wine, two silver bowls which held about a pint
apiece, a few silver cups, of which he that pleased might drink, but
wine was not urged on any of the guests. There was no music, nor was any
required; for he entertained the company himself, sometimes asking
questions, sometimes telling stories; and his conversation was neither
too grave or disagreeably serious, nor yet in any way rude or ungraceful
in its pleasantry. For he thought those ways of entrapping men by gifts
and presents, which other kings use, dishonest and inartificial; and it
seemed to him to be the most noble method, and most suitable to a king,
to win the affections of those that came near him, by personal
intercourse and agreeable conversation, since between a friend and a
mercenary the only distinction is, that we gain the one by one’s
character and conversation, the other by one’s money.
The Mantineans were the first that requested his aid; and when he
entered their city by night, they aided him to expel the Achaean
garrison, and put themselves under his protection. He restored them
their polity and laws, and the same day marched to Tegea; and a little
while after, fetching a compass through Arcadia, he made a descent upon
Pherae, in Achaea, intending to force Aratus to a battle, or bring him
into disrepute, for refusing to engage, and suffering him to waste the
country. Hyperbatas at that time was general, but Aratus had all the
power amongst the Achaeans. The Achaeans, marching forth with their
whole strength, and encamping in Dymae, near the Hecatombaeum, Cleomenes
came up, and thinking it not advisable to pitch between Dymae, a city of
the enemies, and the camp of the Achaeans, he boldly dared the Achaeans,
and forced them to a battle, and routing their phalanx, slew a great
many in the fight, and took many prisoners, and thence marching to
Langon, and driving out the Achaean garrison, he restored the city to
the Eleans.
The affairs of the Achaeans being in this unfortunate condition,
Aratus, who was wont to take office every other year, refused the
command, though they entreated and urged him to accept it. And this was
ill done, when the storm was high, to put the power out of his own
hands, and set another to the helm. Cleomenes at first proposed fair and
easy conditions by his ambassadors to the Achaeans, but afterward he
sent others, and required the chief command to be settled upon him; in
other matters offering to agree to reasonable terms, and to restore
their captives and their country. The Achaeans were willing to come to
an agreement upon those terms, and invited Cleomenes to Lerna, where an
assembly was to be held; but it happened that Cleomenes, hastily
marching on, and drinking water at a wrong time, brought up a quantity
of blood, and lost his voice; therefore being unable to continue his
journey, he sent the chiefest of the captives to the Achaeans, and,
putting off the meeting for some time, retired to Lacedaemon.
This ruined the affairs of Greece, which was just beginning in some
sort to recover from its disasters, and to show some capability of
delivering itself from the insolence and rapacity of the Macedonians.
For Aratus, (whether fearing or distrusting Cleomenes, or envying his
unlooked-for success, or thinking it a disgrace for him who had
commanded thirty-three years, to have a young man succeed to all his
glory and his power, and be head of that government which he had been
raising and settling so many years,) first endeavored to keep the
Achaeans from closing with Cleomenes; but when they would not hearken to
him, fearing Cleomenes’s daring spirit, and thinking the Lacedaemonians’
proposals to be very reasonable, who designed only to reduce
Peloponnesus to its old model, upon this he took his last refuge in an
action which was unbecoming any of the Greeks, most dishonorable to him,
and most unworthy his former bravery and exploits. For he called
Antigonus into Greece, and filled Peloponnesus with Macedonians, whom he
himself, when a youth, having beaten their garrison out of the castle of
Corinth, had driven from the same country. And there had been constant
suspicion and variance between him and all the kings, and of Antigonus,
in particular, he has said a thousand dishonorable things in the
commentaries he has left behind him. And though he declares himself how
he suffered considerable losses, and underwent great dangers, that he
might free Athens from the garrison of the Macedonians, yet, afterwards,
he brought the very same men armed into his own country, and his own
house, even to the women’s apartment. He would not endure that one of
the family of Hercules, and king of Sparta, and one that had reformed
the polity of his country, as it were, from a disordered harmony, and
retuned it to the plain Doric measure and rule of life of Lycurgus,
should be styled head of the Tritaeans and Sicyonians; and whilst he
fled the barley-cake and coarse coat, and which were his chief
accusations against Cleomenes, the extirpation of wealth and reformation
of poverty, he basely subjected himself, together with Achaea, to the
diadem and purple, to the imperious commands of the Macedonians and
their satraps. That he might not seem to be under Cleomenes, he offered
sacrificers, called Antigonea, in honor of Antigonus, and sang paeans
himself, with a garland on his head, to the praise of a wasted,
consumptive Macedonian. I write this not out of any design to disgrace
Aratus, for in many things he showed himself a true lover of Greece, and
a great man, but out of pity to the weakness of human nature, which in
characters like this, so worthy and in so many ways disposed to virtue,
cannot maintain its honors unblemished by some envious fault.
The Achaeans meeting again in assembly at Argos, and Cleomenes having
come from Tegea, there were great hopes that all differences would be
composed. But Aratus, Antigonus and he having already agreed upon the
chief articles of their league, fearing that Cleomenes would carry all
before him, and either win or force the multitude to comply with his
demands, proposed, that having three hundred hostages put into his
hands, he should come alone into the town, or bring his army to the
place of exercise, called the Cyllarabium, outside the city, and treat
there.
Cleomenes, hearing this, said, that he was unjustly dealt with; for
they ought to have told him so plainly at first, and not now he was come
even to their doors, show their jealousy, and deny him admission. And
writing a letter to the Achaeans about the same subject, the greatest
part of which was an accusation of Aratus, while Aratus, on the other
side, spoke violently against him to the assembly, he hastily dislodged,
and sent a trumpeter to denounce war against the Achaeans, not to Argos,
but to Aegium, as Aratus writes, that he might not give them notice
enough to make provision for their defense. There had also been a
movement among the Achaeans themselves, and the cities were eager for
revolt; the common people expecting a division of the land, and a
release from their debts, and the chief men being in many places
ill-disposed to Aratus, and some of them angry and indignant with him,
for having brought the Macedonians into Peloponnesus. Encouraged by
these misunderstandings, Cleomenes invaded Achaea, and first took
Pellene by surprise, and beat out the Achaean garrison, and afterwards
brought over Pheneus and Penteleum to his side. Now the Achaeans,
suspecting some treacherous designs at Corinth and Sicyon, sent their
horse and mercenaries out of Argos, to have an eye upon those cities,
and they themselves went to Argos, to celebrate the Nemean games.
Cleomenes, advertised of this march, and hoping, as it afterward fell
out, that upon an unexpected advance to the city, now busied in the
solemnity of the games, and thronged with numerous spectators, he should
raise a considerable terror and confusion amongst them, by night marched
with his army to the walls, and taking the quarter of the town called
Aspis, which lies above the theater, well fortified, and hard to be
approached, he so terrified them that none offered to resist, but they
agreed to accept a garrison, to give twenty citizens for hostages, and
to assist the Lacedaemonians, and that he should have the chief command.
This action considerably increased his reputation and his power; for
the ancient Spartan kings, though they many ways endeavored to effect
it, could never bring Argos to be permanently theirs. And Pyrrhus, the
most experienced captain, though he entered the city by force, could not
keep possession, but was slain himself, with a considerable part of his
army. Therefore they admired the dispatch and contrivance of Cleomenes;
and those that before derided him, for imitating, as they said, Solon
and Lycurgus, in releasing the people from their debts, and in
equalizing the property of the citizens, were now fain to admit that
this was the cause of the change in the Spartans. For before they were
very low in the world, and so unable to secure their own, that the
Aetolians, invading Laconia, brought away fifty thousand slaves; so that
one of the elder Spartans is reported to have said, that they had done
Laconia a kindness by unburdening it; and yet a little while after, by
merely recurring once again to their native customs, and reentering the
track of the ancient discipline, they were able to give, as though it
had been under the eyes and conduct of Lycurgus himself, the most signal
instances of courage and obedience, raising Sparta to her ancient place
as the commanding state of Greece, and recovering all Peloponnesus.
When Argos was captured, and Cleonae and Phlius came over, as they
did at once, to Cleomenes, Aratus was at Corinth, searching after some
who were reported to favor the Spartan interest. The news, being brought
to him, disturbed him very much; for he perceived the city inclining to
Cleomenes, and willing to be rid of the Achaeans. Therefore he summoned
the citizens to meet in the Council Hall, and slipping away without
being observed to the gate, he mounted his horse that had been brought
for him thither, and fled to Sicyon. And the Corinthians made such haste
to Cleomenes at Argos, that, as Aratus says, striving who should be
first there, they spoiled all their horses; he adds that Cleomenes was
very angry with the Corinthians for letting him escape; and that
Megistonus came from Cleomenes to him, desiring him to deliver up the
castle at Corinth, which was then garrisoned by the Achaeans, and
offered him a considerable sum of money, and that he answered, that
matters were not now in his power, but he in theirs. Thus Aratus himself
writes. But Cleomenes, marching from Argos, and taking in the
Troezenians, Epidaurians, and Hermioneans, came to Corinth, and blocked
up the castle, which the Achaeans would not surrender; and sending for
Aratus’s friends and stewards, committed his house and estate to their
care and management; and sent Tritymallus, the Messenian, to him a
second time, desiring that the castle might be equally garrisoned by the
Spartans and Achaeans, and promising to Aratus himself double the
pension that he received from king Ptolemy. But Aratus, refusing the
conditions, and sending his own son with the other hostages to
Antigonus, and persuading the Achaeans to make a decree for delivering
the castle into Antigonus’s hands, upon this Cleomenes invaded the
territory of the Sicyonians, and by a decree of the Corinthians,
accepted Aratus’s estate as a gift.
In the meantime, Antigonus, with a great army, was passing Geranea;
and Cleomenes, thinking it more advisable to fortify and garrison, not
the isthmus, but the mountains called Onea, and by a war of posts and
positions to weary the Macedonians, rather than to venture a set battle
with the highly disciplined phalanx, put his design in execution, and
very much distressed Antigonus. For he had not brought victuals
sufficient for his army; nor was it easy to force a way through, whilst
Cleomenes guarded the pass. He attempted by night to pass through
Lechaeum, but failed, and lost some men; so that Cleomenes and his army
were mightily encouraged, and so flushed with the victory, that they
went merrily to supper; and Antigonus was very much dejected, being
driven, by the necessity he was in, to most unpromising attempts. He was
proposing to march to the promontory of Heraeum, and thence transport
his army in boats to Sicyon, which would take up a great deal of time,
and require much preparation and means. But when it was now evening,
some of Aratus’s friends came from Argos by sea, and invited him to
return, for the Argives would revolt from Cleomenes. Aristoteles was the
man that wrought the revolt, and he had no hard task to persuade the
common people; for they were all angry with Cleomenes for not releasing
them from their debts as they expected. Accordingly, obtaining fifteen
hundred of Antigonus’s soldiers, Aratus sailed to Epidaurus; but
Aristoteles, not staying for his coming, drew out the citizens, and
fought against the garrison of the castle; and Timoxenus, with the
Achaeans from Sicyon, came to his assistance.
Cleomenes heard the news about the second watch of the night, and
sending for Megistonus, angrily commanded him to go and set things right
at Argos. Megistonus had passed his word for the Argives’ loyalty, and
had persuaded him not to banish the suspected. Therefore, dispatching
him with two thousand soldiers, he himself kept watch upon Antigonus,
and encouraged the Corinthians, pretending that there was no great
matter in the commotions at Argos, but only a little disturbance raised
by a few inconsiderable persons. But when Megistonus, entering Argos,
was slain, and the garrison could scarce hold out, and frequent
messengers came to Cleomenes for succors, he, fearing least the enemy,
having taken Argos, should shut up the passes, and securely waste
Laconia, and besiege Sparta itself, which he had left without forces,
dislodged from Corinth, and immediately lost that city; for Antigonus
entered it, and garrisoned the town. He turned aside from his direct
march, and assaulting the walls of Argos, endeavored to carry it by a
sudden attack and then, having collected his forces from their march,
breaking into the Aspis, he joined the garrison, which still held out
against the Achaeans; some parts of the city he scaled and took, and his
Cretan archers cleared the streets. But when he saw Antigonus with his
phalanx descending from the mountains into the plain, and the horse on
all sides entering the city, he thought it impossible to maintain his
post, and, gathering together all his men, came safely down, and made
his retreat under the walls, having in so short a time possessed himself
of great power, and in one journey, so to say, having made himself
master of almost all Peloponnesus, and now lost all again in as short a
time. For some of his allies at once withdrew and forsook him, and
others not long after put their cities under Antigonus’s protection. His
hopes thus defeated, as he was leading back the relics of his forces,
messengers from Lacedaemon met him in the evening at Tegea, and brought
him, news of as great a misfortune as that which he had lately suffered,
and this was the death of his wife, to whom he was so attached, and
thought so much of her, that even in his most successful expeditions,
when he was most prosperous, he could not refrain, but would ever now
and then come home to Sparta, to visit Agiatis.
This news afflicted him extremely, and he grieved, as a young man
would do, for the loss of a very beautiful and excellent wife; yet he
did not let his passion disgrace him, or impair the greatness of his
mind, but keeping his usual voice, his countenance, and his habit, he
gave necessary orders to his captains, and took the precautions required
for the safety of Tegea. Next morning he came to Sparta, and having at
home with his mother and children bewailed the loss, and finished his
mourning, he at once devoted himself to the public affairs of the state.
Now Ptolemy, the king of Egypt, promised him assistance, but demanded
his mother and children for hostages. This, for some considerable time,
he was ashamed to discover to his mother; and though he often went to
her on purpose, and was just upon the discourse, yet he still refrained,
and kept it to himself; so that she began to suspect, and asked his
friends, whether Cleomenes had something to say to her, which he was
afraid to speak. At last, Cleomenes venturing to tell her, she laughed
aloud, and said, “Was this the thing that you had so often a mind to
tell me, and were afraid? Make haste and put me on shipboard, and send
this carcass where it may be most serviceable to Sparta, before age
destroys it unprofitably here.” Therefore, all things being provided for
the voyage, they went by land to Taenarus, and the army waited on them.
Cratesiclea, when she was ready to go on board, took Cleomenes aside
into Neptune’s temple, and embracing him, who was much dejected, and
extremely discomposed, she said, “Go to, king of Sparta; when we come
forth at the door, let none see us weep, or show any passion that is
unworthy of Sparta, for that alone is in our own power; as for success
or disappointment, those wait on us as the deity decrees.” Having thus
said, and composed her countenance, she went to the ship with her little
grandson, and bade the pilot put at once out to sea. When she came to
Egypt, and understood that Ptolemy entertained proposals and overtures
of peace from Antigonus, and that Cleomenes, though the Achaeans invited
and urged him to an agreement, was afraid, for her sake, to come to any,
without Ptolemy’s consent, she wrote to him, advising him to do that
which was most becoming and most profitable for Sparta, and not, for the
sake of an old woman and a little child, stand always in fear of
Ptolemy. This character she maintained in her misfortunes.
Antigonus, having taken Tegea, and plundered Orchomenus and Mantinea,
Cleomenes was shut up within the narrow bounds of Laconia; and making
such of the helots as could pay five Attic pounds, free of Sparta, and,
by that means, getting together five hundred talents, and arming two
thousand after the Macedonian fashion, that he might make a body fit to
oppose Antigonus’s Leucaspides he undertook a great and unexpected
enterprise. Megalopolis was at that time a city of itself as great and
as powerful as Sparta, and had the forces of the Achaeans and of
Antigonus encamping beside it; and it was chiefly the Megalopolitans’
doing, that Antigonus had been called in to assist the Achaeans.
Cleomenes, resolving to snatch the city (no other word so well suits so
rapid and so surprising an action), ordered his men to take five days’
provision, and marched to Sellasia, as if he intended to ravage the
country of the Argives; but from thence making a descent into the
territories of Megalopolis, and refreshing his army about Rhoeteum, he
suddenly took the road by Helicus, and advanced directly upon the city.
When he was not far off the town, he sent Panteus, with two regiments,
to surprise a portion of the wall between two towers, which he learnt to
be the most unguarded quarter of the Megalopolitans’ fortifications, and
with the rest of his forces he followed leisurely. Panteus not only
succeeded at that point, but finding a great part of the wall without
guards, he at once proceeded to pull it down in some places, and make
openings through it in others, and killed all the defenders that he
found. Whilst he was thus busied, Cleomenes came up to him, and was got
with his army within the city, before the Megalopolitans knew of the
surprise. When, after some time, they learned their misfortune, some
left the town immediately, taking with them what property they could;
others armed, and engaged the enemy; and through they were not able to
beat them out, yet they gave their citizens time and opportunity safely
to retire, so that there were not above one thousand persons taken in
the town, all the rest flying, with their wives and children, and
escaping to Messene. The greater number, also, of those that armed and
fought the enemy, were saved, and very few taken, amongst whom were
Lysandridas and Thearidas, two men of great power and reputation amongst
the Megalopolitans; and therefore the soldiers, as soon as they were
taken, brought them to Cleomenes. And Lysandridas, as soon as he saw
Cleomenes afar off, cried out, “Now, king of Sparta, it is in your
power, by doing a most kingly and a nobler action than you have already
performed, to purchase the greatest glory.” And Cleomenes, guessing at
his meaning, replied, “What, Lysandridas, you will not surely advise me
to restore your city to you again?” “It is that which I mean,”
Lysandridas replied, “and I advise you not to ruin so brave a city, but
to fill it with faithful and steadfast friends and allies, by restoring
their country to the Megalopolitans, and being the savior of so
considerable a people.” Cleomenes paused a while, and then said, “It is
very hard to trust so far in these matters; but with us let profit
always yield to glory.” Having said this, he sent the two men to Messene
with a herald from himself, offering the Megalopolitans their city
again, if they would forsake the Achaean interest, and be on his side.
But though Cleomenes made these generous and humane proposals,
Philopoemen would not suffer them to break their league with the
Achaeans; and accusing Cleomenes to the people, as if his design was not
to restore the city, but to take the citizens too, he forced Thearidas
and Lysandridas to leave Messene.
This was that Philopoemen who was afterward chief of the Achaeans and
a man of the greatest reputation amongst the Greeks, as I have refuted
in his own life. This news coming to Cleomenes, though he had before
taken strict care that the city should not be plundered, yet then, being
in anger, and out of all patience, he despoiled the place of all the
valuables, and sent the statues and pictures to Sparta; and demolishing
a great part of the city, he marched away for fear of Antigonus and the
Achaeans; but they never stirred, for they were at Aegium, at a council
of war. There Aratus mounted the speaker’s place, and wept a long while,
holding his mantle before his face; and at last, the company being
amazed, and commanding him to speak, he said, “Megalopolis is destroyed
by Cleomenes.” The assembly instantly dissolved, the Achaeans being
astounded at the suddenness and greatness of the loss; and Antigonus,
intending to send speedy succors, when he found his forces gather very
slowly out of their winter-quarters, sent them orders to continue there
still; and he himself marched to Argos with a small body of men. And now
the second enterprise of Cleomenes, though it had the look of a
desperate and frantic adventure, yet in Polybius’s opinion, was done
with mature deliberation and great foresight. For knowing very well that
the Macedonians were dispersed into their winter-quarters, and that
Antigonus with his friends and a few mercenaries about him wintered in
Argos, upon these considerations he invaded the country of the Argives,
hoping to shame Antigonus to a battle upon unequal terms, or else, if he
did not dare to fight, to bring him into disrepute with the Achaeans.
And this accordingly happened. For Cleomenes wasting, plundering, and
spoiling the whole country, the Argives, in grief and anger at the loss,
gathered in crowds at the king’s gates, crying out that he should either
fight, or surrender his command to better and braver men. But Antigonus,
as became an experienced captain, accounting it rather dishonorable
foolishly to hazard his army and quit his security, than merely to be
railed at by other people, would not march out against Cleomenes, but
stood firm to his convictions. Cleomenes, in the meantime, brought his
army up to the very walls, and having without opposition spoiled the
country, and insulted over his enemies, drew off again.
A little while after, being informed that Antigonus designed a new
advance to Tegea, and thence to invade Laconia, he rapidly took his
soldiers, and marching by a side road, appeared early in the morning
before Argos, and wasted the fields about it. The corn he did not cut
down, as is usual, with reaping hooks and knives, but beat it down with
great wooden staves made like broadswords, as if, in mere contempt and
wanton scorn, while traveling on his way, without any effort or trouble,
he spoiled and destroyed their harvest. Yet when his soldiers would have
set Cyllabaris, the exercise ground, on fire, he stopped the attempt, as
if he felt, that the mischief he had done at Megalopolis had been the
effects of his passion rather than his wisdom. And when Antigonus, first
of all, came hastily back to Argos, and then occupied the mountains and
passes with his posts, he professed to disregard and despise it all; and
sent heralds to ask for the keys of the temple of Juno, as though he
proposed to offer sacrifice there and then return. And with this
scornful pleasantry upon Antigonus, having sacrificed to the goddess
under the walls of the temple, which was shut, he went to Phlius; and
from thence driving out those that garrisoned Oligyrtus, he marched down
to Orchomenus. And these enterprises not only encouraged the citizens,
but made him appear to the very enemies to be a man worthy of high
command, and capable of great things. For with the strength of one city,
not only to fight the power of the Macedonians and all the
Peloponnesians, supported by all the royal treasures, not only to
preserve Laconia from being spoiled, but to waste the enemy’s country,
and to take so many and such considerable cities, was an argument of no
common skill and genius for command.
But he that first said that money was the sinews of affairs, seems
especially in that saying to refer to war. Demades, when the Athenians
had voted that their galleys should be launched and equipped for action,
but could produce no money, told them, “The baker was wanted first, and
the pilot after.” And the old Archidamus, in the beginning of the
Peloponnesian war, when the allies desired that the amount of their
contributions should be determined, is reported to have answered, that
war cannot be fed upon so much a day. For as wrestlers, who have
thoroughly trained and disciplined their bodies, in time tire down and
exhaust the most agile and most skillful combatant, so Antigonus, coming
to the war with great resources to spend from, wore out Cleomenes, whose
poverty made it difficult for him to provide the merest sufficiency of
pay for the mercenaries, or of provisions for the citizens. For, in all
other respects, time favored Cleomenes; for Antigonus’s affairs at home
began to be disturbed. For the barbarians wasted and overran Macedonia
whilst he was absent, and at that particular time a vast army of
Illyrians had entered the country; to be freed from whose devastations,
the Macedonians sent for Antigonus, and the letters had almost been
brought to him before the battle was fought; upon the receipt of which
he would at once have marched away home, and left the Achaeans to look
to themselves. But Fortune, that loves to determine the greatest affairs
by a minute, in this conjuncture showed such an exact niceness of time,
that immediately after the battle in Sellasia was over, and Cleomenes
had lost his army and his city, the messengers came up and called for
Antigonus. And this above everything made Cleomenes’s misfortune to be
pitied; for if he had gone on retreating and had forborne fighting two
days longer, there had been no need of hazarding a battle; since upon
the departure of the Macedonians, he might have had what conditions he
pleased from the Achaeans. But now, as was said before, for want of
money, being necessitated to trust everything to arms, he was forced
with twenty thousand (such is Polybius’s account) to engage thirty
thousand. And approving himself an admirable commander in this
difficulty, his citizens showing an extraordinary courage, and his
mercenaries bravery enough, he was overborne by the different way of
fighting, and the weight of the heavy-armed phalanx. Phylarchus also
affirms, that the treachery of some about him was the chief cause of
Cleomenes’s ruin.
For Antigonus gave orders, that the Illyrians and Acarnanians should
march round by a secret way, and encompass the other wing, which
Euclidas, Cleomenes’s brother, commanded; and then drew out the rest of
his forces to the battle. And Cleomenes, from a convenient rising,
viewing his order, and not seeing any of the Illyrians and Acarnanians,
began to suspect that Antigonus had sent them upon some such design, and
calling for Damoteles, who was at the head of those specially appointed
to such ambush duty, he bade him carefully to look after and discover
the enemy’s designs upon his rear. But Damoteles, for some say Antigonus
had bribed him, telling him that he should not be solicitous about that
matter, for all was well enough, but mind and fight those that met him
in the front, he was satisfied, and advanced against Antigonus; and by
the vigorous charge of his Spartans, made the Macedonian phalanx give
ground, and pressed upon them with great advantage about half a mile;
but then making a stand, and seeing the danger which the surrounded
wing, commanded by his brother Euclidas, was in, he cried out, “Thou art
lost, dear brother, thou art lost, thou brave example to our Spartan
youth, and theme of our matrons’ songs.” And Euclidas’s wing being cut
in pieces, and the conquerors from that part falling upon him, he
perceived his soldiers to be disordered, and unable to maintain the
fight, and therefore provided for his own safety. There fell, we are
told, in the battle, besides many of the mercenary soldiers, all the
Spartans, six thousand in number, except two hundred.
When Cleomenes came into the city, he advised those citizens that he
met to receive Antigonus; and as for himself, he said, which should
appear most advantageous to Sparta, whether his life or death, that he
would choose. Seeing the women running out to those that had fled with
him, taking their arms, and bringing drink to them, he entered into his
own house, and his servant, who was a freeborn woman, taken from
Megalopolis after his wife’s death, offering, as usual, to do the
service he needed on returning from war, though he was very thirsty, he
refused to drink, and though very weary, to sit down; but in his
corselet as he was, he laid his arm sideways against a pillar, and
leaning his forehead upon his elbow, he rested his body a little while,
and ran over in his thoughts all the courses he could take; and then
with his friends set on at once for Gythium; where finding ships which
had been got ready for this very purpose, they embarked. Antigonus,
taking the city, treated the Lacedaemonians courteously, and in no way
offering any insult or offense to the dignity of Sparta, but permitting
them to enjoy their own laws and polity, and sacrificing to the gods,
dislodged the third day. For he heard that there was a great war in
Macedonia, and that the country was devastated by the barbarians.
Besides, his malady had now thoroughly settled into a consumption and
continual catarrh. Yet he still kept up, and managed to return and
deliver his country, and meet there a more glorious death in a great
defeat and vast slaughter of the barbarians. As Phylarchus says, and as
is probable in itself, he broke a blood vessel by shouting in the battle
itself. In the schools we used to be told, that after the victory was
won, he cried out for joy, “O glorious day!” and presently bringing up a
quantity of blood, fell into a fever, which never left him till his
death. And thus much concerning Antigonus.
Cleomenes, sailing from Cythera, touched at another island called
Aegialia, whence as he was about to depart for Cyrene, one of his
friends, Therycion by name, a man of a noble spirit in all enterprises,
and bold and lofty in his talk, came privately to him, and said thus:
“Sir, death in battle, which is the most glorious, we have let go;
though all heard us say that Antigonus should never tread over the king
of Sparta, unless dead. And now that course which is next in honor and
virtue, is presented to us. Whither do we madly sail, flying the evil
which is near, to seek that which is at a distance? For if it is not
dishonorable for the race of Hercules to serve the successors of Philip
and Alexander, we shall save a long voyage by delivering ourselves up to
Antigonus, who, probably, is as much better than Ptolemy, as the
Macedonians are better than the Egyptians; but if we think it mean to
submit to those whose arms have conquered us, why should we choose him
for our master, by whom we have not yet been beaten? Is it to
acknowledge two superiors instead of one, whilst we run away from
Antigonus, and flatter Ptolemy? Or, is it for your mother’s sake that
you retreat to Egypt? It will indeed be a very fine and very desirable
sight for her, to show her son to Ptolemy’s women, now changed from a
prince into an exile and a slave. Are we not still masters of our own
swords? And whilst we have Laconia in view, shall we not here free
ourselves from this disgraceful misery, and clear ourselves to those who
at Sellasia died for the honor and defense of Sparta? Or, shall we sit
lazily in Egypt, inquiring what news from Sparta, and whom Antigonus
hath been pleased to make governor of Lacedaemon?” Thus spoke Therycion;
and this was Cleomenes’s reply: “By seeking death, you coward, the most
easy and most ready refuge, you fancy that you shall appear courageous
and brave, though this flight is baser than the former. Better men than
we have given way to their enemies, having been betrayed by fortune, or
oppressed by multitude; but he that gives way under labor or distresses,
under the ill opinions or reports of men, yields the victory to his own
effeminacy. For a voluntary death ought not to be chosen as a relief
from action, but as an exemplary action itself; and it is base either to
live or to die only to ourselves. That death to which you now invite us,
is proposed only as a release from our present miseries, but carries
nothing of nobleness or profit in it. And I think it becomes both me and
you not to despair of our country; but when there are no hopes of that
left, those that have an inclination may quickly die.” To this Therycion
returned no answer but as soon as he had an opportunity of leaving
Cleomenes’s company, went aside on the sea-shore, and ran himself
through.
But Cleomenes sailed from Aegialia, landed in Libya, and being
honorably conducted through the king’s country, came to Alexandria. When
he was first brought to Ptolemy, no more than common civilities and
usual attentions were paid him; but when, upon trial, he found him a man
of deep sense and great reason, and that his plain Laconic way of
conversation carried with it a noble and becoming grace, that he did
nothing unbecoming his birth, nor bent under fortune, and was evidently
a more faithful counselor than those who made it their business to
please and flatter, he was ashamed, and repented that he had neglected
so great a man, and suffered Antigonus to get so much power and
reputation by ruining him. He now offered him many marks of respect and
kindness, and gave him hopes that he would furnish him with ships and
money to return to Greece, and would reinstate him in his kingdom. He
granted him a yearly pension of four and twenty talents; a little part
of which sum supplied his and his friends’ thrifty temperance; and the
rest was employed in doing good offices to, and in relieving the
necessities of the refugees that had fled from Greece, and retired into
Egypt.
But the elder Ptolemy dying before Cleomenes’s affairs had received a
full dispatch, and the successor being a loose, voluptuous, and
effeminate prince, under the power of his pleasures and his women, his
business was neglected. For the king was so besotted with his women and
his wine, that the employments of his most busy and serious hours
consisted at the utmost in celebrating religious feasts in his palace,
carrying a timbrel, and taking part in the show; while the greatest
affairs of state were managed by Agathoclea, the king’s mistress, her
mother, and the pimp Oenanthes. At the first, indeed, they seemed to
stand in need of Cleomenes; for Ptolemy, being afraid of his brother
Magas, who by his mother’s means had a great interest amongst the
soldiers, gave Cleomenes a place in his secret councils, and acquainted
him with the design of taking off his brother. He, though all were for
it, declared his opinion to the contrary, saying, “The king, if it were
possible, should have more brothers for the better security and
stability of his affairs.” And Sosibius, the greatest favorite,
replying, that they were not secure of the mercenaries whilst Magas was
alive, Cleomenes returned, that he need not trouble himself about that
matter; for amongst the mercenaries there were above three thousand
Peloponnesians, who were his fast friends, and whom he could command at
any time with a nod. This discourse made Cleomenes for the present to be
looked upon as a man of great influence and assured fidelity; but
afterwards, Ptolemy’s weakness increasing his fear, and he, as it
usually happens, where there is no judgment and wisdom, placing his
security in general distrust and suspicion, it rendered Cleomenes
suspected to the courtiers, as having too much interest with the
mercenaries; and many had this saying in their mouths, that he was a
lion amidst a flock of sheep. For, in fact, such he seemed to be in the
court, quietly watching, and keeping his eye upon all that went on.
He, therefore, gave up all thought of asking for ships and soldiers
from the king. But receiving news that Antigonus was dead, that the
Achaeans were engaged in a war with the Aetolians, and that the affairs
of Peloponnesus, being now in very great distraction and disorder,
required and invited his assistance, he desired leave to depart only
with his friends, but could not obtain that, the king not so much as
hearing his petition, being shut up amongst his women, and wasting his
hours in bacchanalian rites and drinking parties. But Sosibius, the
chief minister and counselor of state, thought that Cleomenes, being
detained against his will, would grow ungovernable and dangerous, and
yet that it was not safe to let him go, being an aspiring, daring man,
and well acquainted with the diseases and weakness of the kingdom. For
neither could presents and gifts conciliate or content him; but even as
Apis, while living in all possible plenty and apparent delight, yet
desires to live as nature would provide for him, to range at liberty,
and bound about the fields, and can scarce endure to be under the
priests’ keeping, so he could not brook their courtship and soft
entertainment, but sat like Achilles,
and languished far,
Desiring battle and the shout of war.
His affairs standing in this condition, Nicagoras, the Messenian,
came to Alexandria, a man that deeply hated Cleomenes, yet pretended to
be his friend; for he had formerly sold Cleomenes a fair estate, but
never received the money, because Cleomenes was either unable, as it may
be, or else, by reason of his engagement in the wars and other
distractions, had no opportunity to pay him. Cleomenes, seeing him
landing, for he was then walking upon the quay, kindly saluted him, and
asked what business brought him to Egypt. Nicagoras returned his
compliment, and told him, that he came to bring some excellent
war-horses to the king. And Cleomenes, with a smile, subjoined, “I could
wish you had rather brought young boys and music-girls; for those now
are the king’s chief occupation.” Nicagoras at the moment smiled at the
conceit; but a few days after, he put Cleomenes in mind of the estate
that he had bought of him, and desired his money, protesting, that he
would not have troubled him, if his merchandise had turned out as
profitable as he had thought it would. Cleomenes replied, that he had
nothing left of all that had been given him. At which answer, Nicagoras,
being nettled, told Sosibius Cleomenes’s scoff upon the king. He was
delighted to receive the information; but desiring to have some greater
reason to excite the king against Cleomenes, persuaded Nicagoras to
leave a letter written against Cleomenes, importing that he had a
design, if he could have gotten ships and soldiers, to surprise Cyrene.
Nicagoras wrote such a letter and left Egypt. Four days after, Sosibius
brought the letter to Ptolemy, pretending it was just then delivered
him, and excited the young man’s fear and anger; upon which it was
agreed, that Cleomenes should be invited into a large house, and treated
as formerly, but not suffered to go out again.
This usage was grievous to Cleomenes, and another incident that
occurred, made him feel his hopes to be yet more entirely overcast.
Ptolemy, the son of Chrysermas, a favorite of the king’s, had always
shown civility to Cleomenes; there was a considerable intimacy between
them, and they had been used to talk freely together about the state.
He, upon Cleomenes’s desire, came to him, and spoke to him in fair
terms, softening down his suspicions and excusing the king’s conduct.
But as he went out again, not knowing that Cleomenes followed him to the
door, he severely reprimanded the keepers for their carelessness in
looking after “so great and so furious a wild beast.” This Cleomenes
himself heard, and retiring before Ptolemy perceived it, told his
friends what had been said. Upon this they cast off all their former
hopes, and determined for violent proceedings, resolving to be revenged
on Ptolemy for his base and unjust dealing, to have satisfaction for the
affronts, to die as it became Spartans, and not stay till, like fatted
sacrifices, they were butchered. For it was both grievous and
dishonorable for Cleomenes, who had scorned to come to terms with
Antigonus, a brave warrior, and a man of action, to wait an effeminate
king’s leisure, till he should lay aside his timbrel and end his dance,
and then kill him.
These courses being resolved on, and Ptolemy happening at the same
time to make a progress to Canopus, they first spread abroad a report,
that his freedom was ordered by the king, and, it being the custom for
the king to send presents and an entertainment to those whom he would
free, Cleomenes’s friends made that provision, and sent it into the
prison, thus imposing upon the keepers, who thought it had been sent by
the king. For he sacrificed, and gave them large portions, and with a
garland upon his head, feasted and made merry with his friends. It is
said that he began the action sooner than he designed, having understood
that a servant who was privy to the plot, had gone out to visit a
mistress that he loved. This made him afraid of a discovery; and
therefore, as soon as it was full noon, and all the keepers sleeping off
their wine, he put on his coat, and opening the seam to bare his right
shoulder, with his drawn sword in his hand, he issued forth, together
with his friends, provided in the same manner, making thirteen in all.
One of them, by name Hippitas, was lame, and followed the first onset
very well, but when he presently perceived that they were more slow in
their advances for his sake, he desired them to run him through, and not
ruin their enterprise by staying for an useless, unprofitable man. By
chance an Alexandrian was then riding by the door; him they threw off,
and setting Hippitas on horseback, ran through the streets, and
proclaimed liberty to the people. But they, it seems, had courage enough
to praise and admire Cleomenes’s daring, but not one had the heart to
follow and assist him. Three of them fell on Ptolemy, the son of
Chrysermas, as he was coming out of the palace, and killed him. Another
Ptolemy, the officer in charge of the city, advancing against them in a
chariot, they set upon, dispersed his guards and attendants, and pulling
him out of the chariot, killed him upon the place. Then they made toward
the castle, designing to break open the prison, release those who were
confined, and avail themselves of their numbers; but the keepers were
too quick for them, and secured the passages. Being baffled in this
attempt, Cleomenes with his company roamed about the city, none joining
with him, but all retreating from and flying his approach. Therefore,
despairing of success, and saying to his friends, that it was no wonder
that women ruled over men that were afraid of liberty, he bade them all
die as bravely as became his followers and their own past actions. This
said, Hippitas was first, as he desired, run through by one of the
younger men, and then each of them readily and resolutely fell upon his
own sword, except Panteus, the same who first surprised Megalopolis.
This man, being; of a very handsome person, and a great lover of the
Spartan discipline, the king had made his dearest friend; and he now
bade him, when he had seen him and the rest fallen, die by their
example. Panteus walked over them as they lay, and pricked everyone with
his dagger, to try whether any was alive, when he pricked Cleomenes in
the ankle, and saw him turn upon his back, he kissed him, sat down by
him, and when he was quite dead, covered up the body, and then killed
himself over it.
Thus fell Cleomenes, after the life which we have narrated, having
been king of Sparta sixteen years. The news of their fall being noised
through the city, Cratesiclea, though a woman of a great spirit, could
not bear up against the weight of this affliction; but embracing
Cleomenes’s children, broke out into lamentations. But the eldest boy,
none suspecting such a spirit in a child, threw himself headlong from
the top of the house. He was bruised very much, but not killed by the
fall, and was taken up crying, and expressing his resentment for not
being permitted to destroy himself. Ptolemy, as soon as an account of
the action was brought him, gave order that Cleomenes’s body should be
flayed and hung up, and that his children, mother, and the women that
were with her, should be killed. Amongst these was Panteus’s wife, a
beautiful and noble-looking woman, who had been but lately married, and
suffered these disasters in the height of her love. Her parents would
not have her embark with Panteus, so shortly after they were married,
though she eagerly desired it, but shut her up, and kept her forcibly at
home. But a few days after, she procured a horse and a little money, and
escaping by night, made speed to Taenarus, where she embarked for Egypt,
came to her husband, and with him cheerfully endured to live in a
foreign country. She gave her hand to Cratesiclea, as she was going with
the soldiers to execution, held up her robe, and begged her to be
courageous; who of herself was not in the least afraid of death, and
desired nothing else but only to be killed before the children. When
they were come to the place of execution, the children were first killed
before Cratesiclea’s eyes, and afterward she herself, with only these
words in her mouth, “O children, whither are you gone?” But Panteus’s
wife, fastening her dress close about her, and being a strong woman, in
silence and perfect composure, looked after every one that was slain,
and laid them decently out as far as circumstances would permit; and
after all were killed, rearraying her dress, and drawing her clothes
close about her, and suffering none to come near or be an eyewitness of
her fall, besides the executioner, she courageously submitted to the
stroke, and wanted nobody to look after her or wind her up after she was
dead. Thus in her death the modesty of her mind appeared, and set that
guard upon her body which she always kept when alive. And she, in the
declining age of the Spartans, showed that women were no unequal rivals
of the men, and was an instance of a courage superior to the affronts of
fortune.
A few days after, those that watched the hanging body of Cleomenes,
saw a large snake winding about his head, and covering his face, so that
no bird of prey would fly at it. This made the king superstitiously
afraid, and set the women upon several expiations, as if he had been
some extraordinary being, and one beloved by the gods, that had been
slain. And the Alexandrians made processions to the place, and gave
Cleomenes the title of hero, and son of the gods, till the philosophers
satisfied them by saying, that as oxen breed bees, putrefying horses
breed wasps, and beetles rise from the carcasses of dead asses, so the
humors and juices of the marrow of a man’s body, coagulating, produce
serpents. And this the ancients observing, appropriated a serpent,
rather than any other creature to heroes.
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Tiberius Gracchus
Having completed the first two narratives, we now may proceed to
take a view of misfortunes, not less remarkable, in the Roman couple,
and with the lives of Agis and Cleomenes, compare these of Tiberius and
Caius. They were the sons of Tiberius Gracchus, who, though he had been
once censor, twice consul, and twice had triumphed, yet was more
renowned and esteemed for his virtue than his honors. Upon this account,
after the death of Scipio who overthrew Hannibal, he was thought worthy
to match with his daughter Cornelia, though there had been no friendship
or familiarity between Scipio and him, but rather the contrary. There is
a story told, that he once found in his bedchamber a couple of snakes,
and that the soothsayers, being consulted concerning the prodigy,
advised, that he should neither kill them both nor let them both escape;
adding, that if the male serpent was killed, Tiberius should die, and if
the female, Cornelia. And that, therefore, Tiberius, who extremely loved
his wife, and thought, besides, that it was much more his part, who was
an old man, to die, than it was hers, who as yet was but a young woman,
killed the male serpent, and let the female escape; and soon after
himself died, leaving behind him twelve children borne to him by
Cornelia.
Cornelia, taking upon herself all the care of the household and the
education of her children, approved herself so discreet a matron, so
affectionate a mother, and so constant and noble-spirited a widow, that
Tiberius seemed to all men to have done nothing unreasonable, in
choosing to die for such a woman; who, when king Ptolemy himself
proffered her his crown, and would have married her, refused it, and
chose rather to live a widow. In this state she continued, and lost all
her children, except one daughter, who was married to Scipio the
younger, and two sons, Tiberius and Caius, whose lives we are now
writing.
These she brought up with such care, that though they were without
dispute in natural endowments and dispositions the first among the
Romans of their time, yet they seemed to owe their virtues even more to
their education than to their birth. And as, in the statues and pictures
made of Castor and Pollux, though the brothers resemble one another, yet
there is a difference to be perceived in their countenances, between the
one, who delighted in the cestus, and the other, that was famous in the
course, so between these two noble youths, though there was a strong
general likeness in their common love of fortitude and temperance, in
their liberality, their eloquence, and their greatness of mind, yet in
their actions and administrations of public affairs, a considerable
variation showed itself. It will not be amiss, before we proceed, to
mark the difference between them.
Tiberius, in the form and expression of his countenance, and in his
gesture and motion, was gentle and composed; but Caius, earnest and
vehement. And so, in their public speeches to the people, the one spoke
in a quiet orderly manner, standing throughout on the same spot; the
other would walk about on the hustings, and in the heat of his orations,
pull his gown off his shoulders, and was the first of all the Romans
that used such gestures; as Cleon is said to have been the first orator
among the Athenians that pulled off his cloak and smote his thigh, when
addressing the people. Caius’s oratory was impetuous and passionate,
making everything tell to the utmost, whereas Tiberius was gentle,
rather, and persuasive, awakening emotions of pity. His diction was
pure, and carefully correct, while that of Caius was vehement and rich.
So likewise in their way of living, and at their tables, Tiberius was
frugal and plain, Caius, compared with other men temperate and even
austere, but contrasting with his brother in a fondness for new fashions
and rarities, as appears in Drusus’s charge against him, that he had
bought some silver dolphins, to the value of twelve hundred and fifty
drachmas for every pound weight.
The same difference that appeared in their diction, was observable
also in their tempers. The one was mild and reasonable, the other rough
and passionate, and to that degree, that often, in the midst of
speaking, he was so hurried away by his passion, against his judgment,
that his voice lost its tone, and he began to pass into mere abusive
talking, spoiling his whole speech. As a remedy to this excess, he made
use of an ingenious servant of his, one Licinius, who stood constantly
behind him with a sort of pitch-pipe, or instrument to regulate the
voice by, and whenever he perceived his master’s tone alter, and break
with anger, he struck a soft note with his pipe, on hearing which, Caius
immediately checked the vehemence of his passion and his voice, grew
quieter, and allowed himself to be recalled to temper. Such are the
differences between the two brothers; but their valor in war against
their country’s enemies, their justice in the government of its
subjects, their care and industry in office, and their self-command in
all that regarded their pleasures were equally remarkable in both.
Tiberius was the elder by nine years; owing to which their actions as
public men were divided by the difference of the times in which those of
the one and those of the other were performed. And one of the principal
causes of the failure of their enterprises was this interval between
their careers, and the want of combination of their efforts. The power
they would have exercised, had they flourished both together, could
scarcely have failed to overcome all resistance. We must therefore give
an account of each of them singly, and first of the eldest.
Tiberius, immediately on his attaining manhood, had such a
reputation, that he was admitted into the college of the augurs, and
that in consideration more of his early virtue than of his noble birth.
This appeared by what Appius Claudius did, who, though he had been
consul and censor, and was now the head of the Roman senate, and had the
highest sense of his own place and merit, at a public feast of the
augurs, addressed himself openly to Tiberius, and with great expressions
of kindness, offered him his daughter in marriage. And when Tiberius
gladly accepted, and the agreement had thus been completed, Appius,
returning home, no sooner had reached his door, but he called to his
wife and cried out in a loud voice, “O Antistia, I have contracted our
daughter Claudia to a husband.” She, being amazed, answered, “But why so
suddenly, or what means this haste? Unless you have provided Tiberius
Gracchus for her husband.” I am not ignorant that some apply this story
to Tiberius, the father of the Gracchi, and Scipio Africanus; but most
relate it as we have done. And Polybius writes, that after the death of
Scipio Africanus, the nearest relations of Cornelia, preferring Tiberius
to all other competitors, gave her to him in marriage, not having been
engaged or promised to anyone by her father.
This young Tiberius, accordingly, serving in Africa under the younger
Scipio, who had married his sister, and living there under the same tent
with him, soon learned to estimate the noble spirit of his commander,
which was so fit to inspire strong feelings of emulation in virtue and
desire to prove merit in action, and in a short time he excelled all the
young men of the army in obedience and courage; and he was the first
that mounted the enemy’s wall, as Fannius says, who writes, that he
himself climbed up with him, and was partaker in the achievement. He was
regarded, while he continued with the army, with great affection; and
left behind him on his departure a strong desire for his return.
After that expedition, being chosen paymaster, it was his fortune to
serve in the war against the Numantines, under the command of Caius
Mancinus, the consul, a person of no bad character, but the most
unfortunate of all the Roman generals. Notwithstanding, amidst the
greatest misfortunes, and in the most unsuccessful enterprises, not only
the discretion and valor of Tiberius, but also, which was still more to
be admired, the great respect and honor which he showed for his general,
were most eminently remarkable; though the general himself, when reduced
to straits, forgot his own dignity and office. For being beaten in
various great battles, he endeavored to dislodge by night, and leave his
camp; which the Numantines perceiving, immediately possessed themselves
of his camp, and pursuing that part of the forces which was in flight,
slew those that were in the rear, hedged the whole army in on every
side, and forced them into difficult ground, whence there could be no
possibility of an escape. Mancinus, despairing to make his way through
by force, sent a messenger to desire a truce, and conditions of peace.
But they refused to give their confidence to any one except Tiberius,
and required that he should be sent to treat with them. This was not
only in regard to the young man’s own character, for he had a great
reputation amongst the soldiers, but also in remembrance of his father
Tiberius, who, in his command against the Spaniards, had reduced great
numbers of them to subjection, but granted a peace to the Numantines,
and prevailed upon the Romans to keep it punctually and inviolably.
Tiberius was accordingly dispatched to the enemy, whom he persuaded
to accept of several conditions, and he himself complied with others;
and by this means it is beyond a question, that he saved twenty thousand
of the Roman citizens, besides attendants and camp followers. However,
the Numantines retained possession of all the property they had found
and plundered in the encampment; and amongst other things were
Tiberius’s books of accounts, containing the whole transactions of his
quaestorship, which he was extremely anxious to recover. And therefore,
when the army were already upon their march, he returned to Numantia,
accompanied with only three or four of his friends; and making his
application to the officers of the Numantines, he entreated that they
would return him his books, lest his enemies should have it in their
power to reproach him with not being able to give an account of the
monies entrusted to him. The Numantines joyfully embraced this
opportunity of obliging him, and invited him into the city; as he stood
hesitating, they came up and took him by the hands, and begged that he
would no longer look upon them as enemies, but believe them to be his
friends, and treat them as such. Tiberius thought it well to consent,
desirous as he was to have his books returned, and was afraid lest he
should disoblige them by showing any distrust. As soon as he entered
into the city, they first offered him food, and made every kind of
entreaty that he would sit down and eat something in their company.
Afterwards they returned his books, and gave him the liberty to take
whatever he wished for in the remaining spoils. He, on the other hand,
would accept of nothing but some frankincense, which he used in his
public sacrifices, and, bidding them farewell with every expression of
kindness, departed.
When he returned to Rome, he found the whole transaction censured and
reproached, as a proceeding that was base, and scandalous to the Romans.
But the relations and friends of the soldiers, forming a large body
among the people, came flocking to Tiberius, whom they acknowledged as
the preserver of so many citizens, imputing to the general all the
miscarriages which had happened. Those who cried out against what had
been done, urged for imitation the example of their ancestors, who
stripped and handed over to the Samnites not only the generals who had
consented to the terms of release, but also all the quaestors, for
example, and tribunes, who had in any way implicated themselves in the
agreement, laying the guilt of perjury and breach of conditions on their
heads. But, in this affair, the populace, showing an extraordinary
kindness and affection for Tiberius, indeed voted that the consul should
be stripped and put in irons, and so delivered to the Numantines; but
for the sake of Tiberius, spared all the other officers. It may be
probable, also, that Scipio, who at that time was the greatest and most
powerful man among the Romans, contributed to save him, though indeed he
was also censured for not protecting Mancinus too, and that he did not
exert himself to maintain the observance of the articles of peace which
had been agreed upon by his kinsman and friend Tiberius. But it may be
presumed that the difference between them was for the most part due to
ambitious feelings, and to the friends and reasoners who urged on
Tiberius, and, as it was, it never amounted to any thing that might not
have been remedied, or that was really bad. Nor can I think that
Tiberius would ever have met with his misfortunes, if Scipio had been
concerned in dealing with his measures; but he was away fighting at
Numantia, when Tiberius, upon the following occasion, first came forward
as a legislator.
Of the land which the Romans gained by conquest from their neighbors,
part they sold publicly, and turned the remainder into common; this
common land they assigned to such of the citizens as were poor and
indigent, for which they were to pay only a small acknowledgment into
the public treasury. But when the wealthy men began to offer larger
rents, and drive the poorer people out, it was enacted by law, that no
person whatever should enjoy more than five hundred acres of ground.
This act for some time checked the avarice of the richer, and was of
great assistance to the poorer people, who retained under it their
respective proportions of ground, as they had been formerly rented by
them. Afterwards the rich men of the neighborhood contrived to get these
lands again into their possession, under other people’s names, and at
last would not stick to claim most of them publicly in their own. The
poor, who were thus deprived of their farms, were no longer either
ready, as they had formerly been, to serve in war, or careful in the
education of their children; insomuch that in a short time there were
comparatively few freemen remaining in all Italy, which swarmed with
workhouses full of foreign-born slaves. These the rich men employed in
cultivating their ground, of which they dispossessed the citizens. Caius
Laelius, the intimate friend of Scipio, undertook to reform this abuse;
but meeting with opposition from men of authority, and fearing a
disturbance, he soon desisted, and received the name of the Wise or the
Prudent, both which meanings belong to the Latin word Sapiens.
But Tiberius, being elected tribune of the people, entered upon that
design without delay, at the instigation, as is most commonly stated, of
Diophanes, the rhetorician, and Blossius, the philosopher. Diophanes was
a refugee from Mitylene, the other was an Italian, of the city of Cuma,
and was educated there under Antipater of Tarsus, who afterwards did him
the honor to dedicate some of his philosophical lectures to him. Some
have also charged Cornelia, the mother of Tiberius, with contributing
towards it, because she frequently upbraided her sons, that the Romans
as yet rather called her the daughter of Scipio, than the mother of the
Gracchi. Others again say Spurius Postumius was the chief occasion. He
was a man of the same age with Tiberius, and his rival for reputation as
a public speaker; and when Tiberius, at his return from the campaign,
found him to have got far beyond him in fame and influence, and to be
much looked up to, he thought to outdo him, by attempting a popular
enterprise of this difficulty, and of such great consequence. But his
brother Caius has left it us in writing, that when Tiberius went through
Tuscany to Numantia, and found the country almost depopulated, there
being hardly any free husbandmen or shepherds, but for the most part
only barbarian, imported slaves, he then first conceived the course of
policy which in the sequel proved so fatal to his family. Though it is
also most certain that the people themselves chiefly excited his zeal
and determination in the prosecution of it, by setting up writings upon
the porches, walls, and monuments, calling upon him to reinstate the
poor citizens in their former possessions.
However, he did not draw up his law without the advice and assistance
of those citizens that were then most eminent for their virtue and
authority; amongst whom were Crassus, the high-priest, Mucius Scaevola,
the lawyer, who at that time was consul, and Claudius Appius, his
father-in-law. Never did any law appear more moderate and gentle,
especially being enacted against such great oppression and avarice. For
they who ought to have been severely punished for transgressing the
former laws, and should at least have lost all their titles to such
lands which they had unjustly usurped, were notwithstanding to receive a
price for quitting their unlawful claims, and giving up their lands to
those fit owners who stood in need of help. But though this reformation
was managed with so much tenderness, that, all the former transactions
being passed over, the people were only thankful to prevent abuses of
the like nature for the future, yet, on the other hand, the moneyed men,
and those of great estates were exasperated, through their covetous
feelings against the law itself, and against the law giver, through
anger and party spirit. They therefore endeavored to seduce the people,
declaring that Tiberius was designing a general redivision of lands, to
overthrow the government, and put all things into confusion.
But they had no success. For Tiberius, maintaining an honorable and
just cause, and possessed of eloquence sufficient to have made a less
creditable action appear plausible, was no safe or easy antagonist,
when, with the people crowding around the hustings, he took his place,
and spoke in behalf of the poor. “The savage beasts,” said he, “in
Italy, have their particular dens, they have their places of repose and
refuge; but the men who bear arms, and expose their lives for the safety
of their country, enjoy in the meantime nothing more in it but the air
and light; and having no houses or settlements of their own, are
constrained to wander from place to place with their wives and
children.” He told them that the commanders were guilty of a ridiculous
error, when, at the head of their armies, they exhorted the common
soldiers to fight for their sepulchres and altars; when not any amongst
so many Romans is possessed of either altar or monument, neither have
they any houses of their own, or hearths of their ancestors to defend.
They fought indeed, and were slain, but it was to maintain the luxury
and the wealth of other men. They were styled the masters of the world,
but in the meantime had not one foot of ground which they could call
their own. A harangue of this nature, spoken to an enthusiastic and
sympathizing audience, by a person of commanding spirit and genuine
feeling, no adversaries at that time were competent to oppose.
Forbearing, therefore, all discussion and debate, they addressed
themselves to Marcus Octavius, his fellow-tribune, who, being a young
man of a steady, orderly character, and an intimate friend of Tiberius,
upon this account declined at first the task of opposing him; but at
length, over-persuaded with the repeated importunities of numerous
considerable persons, he was prevailed upon to do so, and hindered the
passing of the law; it being the rule that any tribune has a power to
hinder an act, and that all the rest can effect nothing, if only one of
them dissents. Tiberius, irritated at these proceedings, presently laid
aside this milder bill, but at the same time preferred another; which,
as it was more grateful to the common people, so it was much more severe
against the wrongdoers, commanding them to make an immediate surrender
of all lands which, contrary to former laws, had come into their
possession. Hence there arose daily contentions between him and Octavius
in their orations. However, though they expressed themselves with the
utmost heat and determination, they yet were never known to descend to
any personal reproaches, or in their passion to let slip any indecent
expressions, so as to derogate from one another.
For not alone
In revelings and Bacchic play,
but also in contentions and political animosities, a noble nature and
a temperate education stay and compose the mind. Observing, however,
that Octavius himself was an offender against this law, and detained a
great quantity of ground from the commonalty, Tiberius desired him to
forbear opposing him any further, and proffered, for the public good,
though he himself had but an indifferent estate, to pay a price for
Octavius’s share at his own cost and charges. But upon the refusal of
this proffer by Octavius, he then interposed an edict, prohibiting all
magistrates to exercise their respective functions, till such time as
the law was either ratified or rejected by public votes. He further
sealed up the gates of Saturn’s temple, so that the treasurers could
neither take any money out from thence, or put any in. He threatened to
impose a severe fine upon those of the praetors who presumed to disobey
his commands, insomuch that all the officers, for fear of this penalty,
intermitted the exercise of their several jurisdictions. Upon this, the
rich proprietors put themselves into mourning, went up and down
melancholy and dejected; they entered also into a conspiracy against
Tiberius, and procured men to murder him; so that he also, with all
men’s knowledge, whenever he went abroad, took with him a sword-staff,
such as robbers use, called in Latin a dolo.
When the day appointed was come, and the people summoned to give
their votes, the rich men seized upon the voting urns, and carried them
away by force; thus all things were in confusion. But when Tiberius’s
party appeared strong enough to oppose the contrary faction, and drew
together in a body, with the resolution to do so, Manlius and Fulvius,
two of the consular quality, threw themselves before Tiberius, took him
by the hand, and with tears in their eyes, begged of him to desist.
Tiberius, considering the mischiefs that were all but now occurring, and
having a great respect for two such eminent persons, demanded of them
what they would advise him to do. They acknowledged themselves unfit to
advise in a matter of so great importance, but earnestly entreated him
to leave it to the determination of the senate. But when the senate
assembled, and could not bring the business to any result, through the
prevalence of the rich faction, he then was driven to a course neither
legal nor fair, and proposed to deprive Octavius of his tribuneship, it
being impossible for him in any other way to get the law brought to the
vote. At first he addressed him publicly, with entreaties couched in the
kindest terms, and taking him by his hands, besought him, that now, in
the presence of all the people, he would take this opportunity to oblige
them, in granting only that request which was in itself so just and
reasonable, being but a small recompense in regard of those many dangers
and hardships which they had undergone for the public safety. Octavius,
however, would by no means be persuaded to compliance; upon which
Tiberius declared openly, that seeing they two were united in the same
office, and of equal authority, it would be a difficult matter to
compose their difference on so weighty a matter without a civil war; and
that the only remedy which he knew, must be the deposing one of them
from their office. He desired, therefore, that Octavius would summon the
people to pass their verdict upon him first, averring that he would
willingly relinquish his authority if the citizens desired it. Octavius
refused; and Tiberius then said he would himself put to the people the
question of Octavius’s deposition, if upon mature deliberation he did
not alter his mind; and after this declaration, he adjourned the
assembly till the next day.
When the people were met together again, Tiberius placed himself in
the rostra, and endeavored a second time to persuade Octavius. But all
being to no purpose, he referred the whole matter to the people, calling
on them to vote at once, whether Octavius should be deposed or not; and
when seventeen of the thirty-five tribes had already voted against him,
and there wanted only the votes of one tribe more for his final
deprivation, Tiberius put a short stop to the proceedings, and once more
renewed his importunities; he embraced and kissed him before all the
assembly, begging, with all the earnestness imaginable, that he would
neither suffer himself to incur the dishonor, nor him to be reputed the
author and promoter of so odious a measure. Octavius, we are told, did
seem a little softened and moved with these entreaties; his eyes filled
with tears, and he continued silent for a considerable time. But
presently looking towards the rich men and proprietors of estates, who
stood gathered in a body together, partly for shame, and partly for fear
of disgracing himself with them, he boldly bade Tiberius use any
severity he pleased. The law for his deprivation being thus voted,
Tiberius ordered one of his servants, whom he had made a freeman, to
remove Octavius from the rostra, employing his own domestic freed
servants in the stead of the public officers. And it made the action
seem all the sadder, that Octavius was dragged out in such an
ignominious manner. The people immediately assaulted him, whilst the
rich men ran in to his assistance. Octavius, with some difficulty, was
snatched away, and safely conveyed out of the crowd; though a trusty
servant of his, who had placed himself in front of his master that he
might assist his escape, in keeping off the multitude, had his eyes
struck out, much to the displeasure of Tiberius, who ran with all haste,
when he perceived the disturbance, to appease the rioters.
This being done, the law concerning the lands was ratified and
confirmed, and three commissioners were appointed, to make a survey of
the grounds and see the same equally divided. These were Tiberius
himself, Claudius Appius, his father-in-law, and his brother, Caius
Gracchus, who at this time was not at Rome, but in the army under the
command of Scipio Africanus before Numantia. These things were
transacted by Tiberius without any disturbance, none daring to offer any
resistance to him, besides which, he gave the appointment as tribune in
Octavius’s place, not to any person of distinction, but to a certain
Mucius, one of his own clients. The great men of the city were therefore
utterly offended, and, fearing lest he should grow yet more popular,
they took all opportunities of affronting him publicly in the senate
house. For when he requested, as was usual, to have a tent provided at
the public charge for his use, while dividing the lands, though it was a
favor commonly granted to persons employed in business of much less
importance, it was peremptorily refused to him; and the allowance made
him for his daily expenses was fixed to nine obols only. The chief
promoter of these affronts was Publius Nasica, who openly abandoned
himself to his feelings of hatred against Tiberius, being a large holder
of the public lands, and not a little resenting now to be turned out of
them by force. The people, on the other hand, were still more and more
excited, insomuch that a little after this, it happening that one of
Tiberius’s friends died suddenly, and his body being marked with
malignant-looking spots, they ran, in tumultuous manner, to his funeral,
crying aloud that the man was poisoned. They took the bier upon their
shoulders, and stood over it, while it was placed on the pile, and
really seemed to have fair grounds for their suspicion of foul play. For
the body burst open, and such a quantity of corrupt humors issued out,
that the funeral fire was extinguished, and when it was again kindled,
the wood still would not burn; insomuch that they were constrained to
carry the corpse to another place, where with much difficulty it took
fire. Besides this, Tiberius, that he might incense the people yet more,
put himself into mourning, brought his children amongst the crowd, and
entreated the people to provide for them and their mother, as if he now
despaired of his own security.
About this time, king Attalus, surnamed Philometor, died, and
Eudemus, a Pergamenian, brought his last will to Rome, by which he had
made the Roman people his heirs. Tiberius, to please the people,
immediately proposed making a law, that all the money which Attalus
left, should be distributed amongst such poor citizens as were to be
sharers of the public lands, for the better enabling them to proceed in
stocking and cultivating their ground; and as for the cities that were
in the territories of Attalus, he declared that the disposal of them did
not at all belong to the senate, but to the people, and that he himself
would ask their pleasure herein. By this he offended the senate more
than ever he had done before, and Pompeius stood up, and acquainted them
that he was the next neighbor to Tiberius, and so had the opportunity of
knowing that Eudemus, the Pergamenian, had presented Tiberius with a
royal diadem and a purple robe, as before long he was to be king of
Rome. Quintus Metellus also upbraided him, saying, that when his father
was censor, the Romans, whenever he happened to be going home from a
supper, used to put out all their lights, lest they should be seen to
have indulged themselves in feastings and drinking at unseasonable
hours, whereas, now, the most indigent and audacious of the people were
found with their torches at night, following Tiberius home. Titus
Annius, a man of no great repute for either justice or temperance, but
famous for his skill in putting and answering questions, challenged
Tiberius to the proof by wager, declaring him to have deposed a
magistrate who by law was sacred and inviolable. Loud clamor ensued, and
Tiberius, quitting the senate hastily, called together the people, and
summoning Annius to appear, was proceeding to accuse him. But Annius,
being no great speaker, nor of any repute compared to him, sheltered
himself in his own particular art, and desired that he might propose one
or two questions to Tiberius, before he entered upon the chief argument.
This liberty being granted, and silence proclaimed, Annius proposed his
question. “If you,” said he, “had a design to disgrace and defame me,
and I should apply myself to one of your colleagues for redress, and he
should come forward to my assistance, would you for that reason fall
into a passion, and depose him?” Tiberius, they say, was so much
disconcerted at this question, that, though at other times his assurance
as well as his readiness of speech was always remarkable, yet now he was
silent and made no reply.
For the present he dismissed the assembly. But beginning to
understand that the course he had taken with Octavius had created
offense even among the populace as well as the nobility, because the
dignity of the tribunes seemed to be violated, which had always
continued till that day sacred and honorable, he made a speech to the
people in justification of himself; out of which it may not be improper
to collect some particulars, to give an impression of his force and
persuasiveness in speaking. “A tribune,” he said, “of the people, is
sacred indeed, and ought to be inviolable, because in a manner
consecrated to be the guardian and protector of them; but if he
degenerate so far as to oppress the people, abridge their powers, and
take away their liberty of voting, he stands deprived by his own act of
his honors and immunities, by the neglect of the duty, for which the
honor was bestowed upon him. Otherwise we should be under the obligation
to let a tribune do his pleasure, though he should proceed to destroy
the capitol or set fire to the arsenal. He who should make these
attempts, would be a bad tribune. He who assails the power of the
people, is no longer a tribune at all. Is it not inconceivable, that a
tribune should have power to imprison a consul, and the people have no
authority to degrade him when he uses that honor which he received from
them, to their detriment? For the tribunes, as well as the consuls, hold
office by the people’s votes. The kingly government, which comprehends
all sorts of authority in itself alone, is morever elevated by the
greatest and most religious solemnity imaginable into a condition of
sanctity. But the citizens, notwithstanding this, deposed Tarquin, when
he acted wrongfully; and for the crime of one single man, the ancient
government under which Rome was built, was abolished forever. What is
there in all Rome so sacred and venerable as the vestal virgins, to
whose care alone the preservation of the eternal fire is committed? yet
if one of these transgress, she is buried alive; the sanctity which for
the gods’ sakes is allowed them, is forfeited when they offend against
the gods. So likewise a tribune retains not his inviolability, which for
the people’s sake was accorded to him, when he offends against the
people, and attacks the foundations of that authority from whence he
derived his own. We esteem him to be legally chosen tribune who is
elected only by the majority of votes; and is not therefore the same
person much more lawfully degraded, when by a general consent of them
all, they agree to depose him? Nothing is so sacred as religious
offerings; yet the people were never prohibited to make use of them, but
suffered to remove and carry them wherever they pleased; so likewise, as
it were some sacred present, they have lawful power to transfer the
tribuneship from one man’s hands to another’s. Nor can that authority be
thought inviolable and irremovable which many of those who have held it,
have of their own act surrendered, and desired to be discharged from.”
These were the principal heads of Tiberius’s apology. But his
friends, apprehending the dangers which seemed to threaten him, and the
conspiracy that was gathering head against him, were of opinion, that
the safest way would be for him to petition that he might be continued
tribune for the year ensuing. Upon this consideration, he again
endeavored to secure the people’s good-will with fresh laws, making the
years of serving in the war fewer than formerly, granting liberty of
appeal from the judges to the people, and joining to the senators, who
were judges at that time, an equal number of citizens of the horsemen’s
degree, endeavoring as much as in him lay to lessen the power of the
senate, rather from passion and partisanship than from any rational
regard to equity and the public good. And when it came to the question,
whether these laws should be passed, and they perceived that the
opposite party were strongest, the people as yet being not got together
in a full body, they began first of all to gain time by speeches in
accusation of some of their fellow-magistrates, and at length adjourned
the assembly till the day following.
Tiberius then went down into the marketplace amongst the people, and
made his addresses to them humbly and with tears in his eyes; and told
them, he had just reason to suspect, that his adversaries would attempt
in the night time to break open his house, and murder him. This worked
so strongly with the multitude, that several of them pitched tents round
about his house, and kept guard all night for the security of his
person. By break of day came one of the soothsayers, who prognosticate
good or bad success by the pecking of fowls, and threw them something to
eat. The soothsayer used his utmost endeavors to fright the fowls out of
their coop; but none of them except one would venture out, which
fluttered with its left wing, and stretched out its leg, and ran back
again into the coop, without eating anything. This put Tiberius in mind
of another ill omen which had formerly happened to him. He had a very
costly headpiece, which he made use of when he engaged in any battle,
and into this piece of armor two serpents crawled, laid eggs, and
brought forth young ones. The remembrance of which made Tiberius more
concerned now, than otherwise he would have been. However, he went
towards the capitol, as soon as he understood that the people were
assembled there; but before he got out of the house, he stumbled upon
the threshold with such violence, that he broke the nail of his great
toe, insomuch that blood gushed out of his shoe. He was not gone very
far before he saw two ravens fighting on the top of a house which stood
on his left hand as he passed along; and though he was surrounded with a
number of people, a stone, struck from its place by one of the ravens,
fell just at his foot. This even the boldest men about him felt as a
check. But Blossius of Cuma, who was present, told him, that it would be
a shame, and an ignominious thing, for Tiberius, who was the son of
Gracchus, the grandson of Scipio Africanus, and the protector of the
Roman people, to refuse, for fear of a silly bird, to answer, when his
countrymen called to him; and that his adversaries would represent it
not as a mere matter for their ridicule, but would declaim about it to
the people as the mark of a tyrannical temper, which felt a pride in
taking liberties with the people. At the same time several messengers
came also from his friends, to desire his presence at the capitol,
saying that all things went there according to expectation. And indeed
Tiberius’s first entrance there was in every way successful; as soon as
ever he appeared, the people welcomed him with loud acclamations, and as
he went up to his place, they repeated their expressions of joy, and
gathered in a body around him, so that no one who was not well known to
be his friend, might approach. Mucius then began to put the business
again to the vote; but nothing could be performed in the usual course
and order, because of the disturbance caused by those who were on the
outside of the crowd, where there was a struggle going on with those of
the opposite party, who were pushing on and trying to force their way in
and establish themselves among them.
Whilst things were in this confusion, Flavius Flaccus, a senator,
standing in a place where he could be seen, but at such a distance from
Tiberius that he could not make him hear, signified to him by motions of
his hand, that he wished to impart something of consequence to him in
private. Tiberius ordered the multitude to make way for him, by which
means, though not without some difficulty, Flavius got to him, and
informed him, that the rich men, in a sitting of the senate, seeing they
could not prevail upon the consul to espouse their quarrel, had come to
a final determination amongst themselves, that he should be
assassinated, and to that purpose had a great number of their friends
and servants ready armed to accomplish it. Tiberius no sooner
communicated this confederacy to those about him, but they immediately
tucked up their gowns, broke the halberts which the officers used to
keep the crowd off into pieces, and distributed them among themselves,
resolving to resist the attack with these. Those who stood at a distance
wondered, and asked what was the occasion; Tiberius, knowing that they
could not hear him at that distance, lifted his hand to his head,
wishing to intimate the great danger which he apprehended himself to be
in. His adversaries, taking notice of that action, ran off at once to
the senate house, and declared, that Tiberius desired the people to
bestow a crown upon him, as if this were the meaning of his touching his
head. This news created general confusion in the senators, and Nasica at
once called upon the consul to punish this tyrant, and defend the
government. The consul mildly replied, that he would not be the first to
do any violence; and as he would not suffer any freeman to be put to
death, before sentence had lawfully passed upon him, so neither would he
allow any measure to be carried into effect, if by persuasion or
compulsion on the part of Tiberius the people had been induced to pass
any unlawful vote. But Nasica, rising from his seat, “Since the consul,”
said he, “regards not the safety of the commonwealth, let everyone who
will defend the laws, follow me.” He, then, casting the skirt of his
gown over his head, hastened to the capitol; those who bore him company,
wrapped their gowns also about their arms. and forced their way after
him. And as they were persons of the greatest authority in the city, the
common people did not venture to obstruct their passing, but were rather
so eager to clear the way for them, that they tumbled over one another
in haste. The attendants they brought with them, had furnished
themselves with clubs and staves from their houses, and they themselves
picked up the feet and other fragments of stools and chairs, which were
broken by the hasty flight of the common people. Thus armed, they made
towards Tiberius, knocking down those whom they found in front of him,
and those were soon wholly dispersed, and many of them slain. Tiberius
tried to save himself by flight. As he was running, he was stopped by
one who caught hold of him by the gown; but he threw it off, and fled in
his under-garments only. And stumbling over those who before had been
knocked down, as he was endeavoring to get up again, Publius Satureius,
a tribune, one of his colleagues, was observed to give him the first
fatal stroke, by hitting him upon the head with the foot of a stool. The
second blow was claimed, as though it had been a deed to be proud of, by
Lucius Rufus. And of the rest there fell above three hundred, killed by
clubs and staves only, none by an iron weapon.
This, we are told, was the first sedition amongst the Romans, since
the abrogation of kingly government, that ended in the effusion of
blood. All former quarrels which were neither small nor about trivial
matters, were always amicably composed, by mutual concessions on either
side, the senate yielding for fear of the commons, and the commons out
of respect to the senate. And it is probable indeed that Tiberius
himself might then have been easily induced, by mere persuasion, to give
way, and certainly, if attacked at all, must have yielded without any
recourse to violence and bloodshed, as he had not at that time above
three thousand men to support him. But it is evident, that this
conspiracy was fomented against him, more out of the hatred and malice
which the rich men had to his person, than for the reasons which they
commonly pretended against him. In testimony of which, we may adduce the
cruelty and unnatural insults which they used to his dead body. For they
would not suffer his own brother, though he earnestly begged the favor,
to bury him in the night, but threw him, together with the other
corpses, into the river. Neither did their animosity stop here; for they
banished some of his friends without legal process, and slew as many of
the others us they could lay their hands on; amongst whom Diophanes, the
orator, was slain, and one Caius Villius cruelly murdered by being shut
up in a large tun with vipers and serpents. Blossius of Cuma, indeed,
was carried before the consuls, and examined touching what had happened,
and freely confessed, that he had done, without scruple, whatever
Tiberius bade him. “What,” replied Nasica, “then if Tiberius had bidden
you burn the capitol, would you have burnt it?” His first answer was,
that Tiberius never would have ordered any such thing; but being pressed
with the same question by several others, he declared, “If Tiberius had
commanded it, it would have been right for me to do it; for he never
would have commanded it, if it had not been for the people’s good.”
Blossius at this time was pardoned, and afterwards went away to
Aristonicus in Asia, and when Aristonicus was overthrown and ruined,
killed himself.
The senate, to soothe the people after these transactions, did not
oppose the division of the public lands, and permitted them to choose
another commissioner in the room of Tiberius. So they elected Publius
Crassus, who was Gracchus’s near connection, as his daughter Licinia was
married to Caius Gracchus; although Cornelius Nepos says, that it was
not Crassus’s daughter whom Caius married, but Brutus’s, who triumphed
for his victories over the Lusitanians; but most writers state it as we
have done. The people, however, showed evident marks of their anger at
Tiberius’s death; and were clearly waiting only for the opportunity to
be revenged, and Nasica was already threatened with an impeachment. The
senate, therefore, fearing lest some mischief should befall him, sent
him ambassador into Asia, though there was no occasion for his going
thither. For the people did not conceal their indignation, even in the
open streets, but railed at him, whenever they met him abroad, calling
him a murderer and a tyrant, one who had polluted the most holy and
religious spot in Rome with the blood of a sacred and inviolable
magistrate. And so Nasica left Italy, although be was bound, being the
chief priest, to officiate in all principal sacrifices. Thus wandering
wretchedly and ignominiously from one place to another, he died in a
short time after, not far from Pergamus. It is no wonder that the people
had such an aversion to Nasica, when even Scipio Africanus, though so
much and so deservedly beloved by the Romans, was in danger of quite
losing the good opinion which the people had of him, only for repeating,
when the news of Tiberius’s death was first brought to Numantia, the
verse out of Homer
Even so perish all who do the same.
And afterwards, being asked by Caius and Fulvius, in a great
assembly, what he thought of Tiberius’s death, he gave an answer adverse
to Tiberius’s public actions. Upon which account, the people thenceforth
used to interrupt him when he spoke, which, until that time, they had
never done, and he, on the other hand, was induced to speak ill of the
people. But of this the particulars are given in the life of Scipio.
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Caius Gracchus
Caius Gracchus, at first, either for fear of his brother’s
enemies, or designing to render them more odious to the people, absented
himself from the public assemblies, and lived quietly in his own house,
as if he were not only reduced for the present to live unambitiously,
but was disposed in general to pass his life in inaction. And some,
indeed, went so far as to say that he disliked his brother’s measures,
and had wholly abandoned the defense of them. However, he was now but
very young, being not so old as Tiberius by nine years; and he was not
yet thirty when he was slain.
In some little time, however, he quietly let his temper appear, which
was one of an utter antipathy to a lazy retirement and effeminacy, and
not the least likely to be contented with a life of eating, drinking,
and money getting. He gave great pains to the study of eloquence, as
wings upon which he might aspire to public business; and it was very
apparent that he did not intend to pass his days in obscurity. When
Vettius, a friend of his, was on his trial, he defended his cause, and
the people were in an ecstasy, and transported with joy, finding him
master of such eloquence that the other orators seemed like children in
comparison, and jealousies and fears on the other hand began to be felt
by the powerful citizens; and it was generally spoken of amongst them
that they must hinder Caius from being made tribune.
But soon after, it happened that he was elected quaestor, and obliged
to attend Orestes, the consul, into Sardinia. This, as it pleased his
enemies, so it was not ungrateful to him, being naturally of a warlike
character, and as well trained in the art of war as in that of pleading.
And, besides, as yet he very much dreaded meddling with state affairs,
and appearing publicly in the rostra, which, because of the importunity
of the people and his friends, he could no otherwise avoid, than by
taking this journey. He was therefore most thankful for the opportunity
of absenting himself. Notwithstanding which, it is the prevailing
opinion that Caius was a far more thorough demagogue, and more ambitious
than ever Tiberius had been, of popular applause; yet it is certain that
he was borne rather by a sort of necessity than by any purpose of his
own into public business. And Cicero, the orator, relates, that when he
declined all such concerns, and would have lived privately, his brother
appeared to him in a dream, and calling him by his name, said, “why do
you tarry, Caius? There is no escape; one life and one death is
appointed for us both, to spend the one and to meet the other, in the
service of the people.”
Caius was no sooner arrived in Sardinia, but he gave exemplary proofs
of his high merit; he not only excelled all the young men of his age in
his actions against his enemies, in doing justice to his inferiors, and
in showing all obedience and respect to his superior officer; but
likewise in temperance, frugality, and industry, he surpassed even those
who were much older than himself. It happened to be a sharp and sickly
winter in Sardinia, insomuch that the general was forced to lay an
imposition upon several towns to supply the soldiers with necessary
clothes. The cities sent to Rome, petitioning to be excused from that
burden; the senate found their request reasonable, and ordered the
general to find some other way of new clothing the army. While he was at
a loss what course to take in this affair, the soldiers were reduced to
great distress; but Caius went from one city to another, and by his mere
representations, he prevailed with them, that of their own accord they
clothed the Roman army. This again being reported to Rome, and seeming
to be only an intimation of what was to be expected of him as a popular
leader hereafter, raised new jealousies amongst the senators. And,
besides, there came ambassadors out of Africa from king Micipsa, to
acquaint the senate, that their master, out of respect to Caius
Gracchus, had sent a considerable quantity of corn to the general in
Sardinia; at which the senators were so much offended, that they turned
the ambassadors out of the senate house, and made an order that the
soldiers should be relieved by sending others in their room; but that
Orestes should continue at his post, with whom Caius, also, as they
presumed, being his quaestor, would remain. But he, finding how things
were carried, immediately in anger took ship for Rome, where his
unexpected appearance obtained him the censure not only of his enemies,
but also of the people; who thought it strange that a quaestor should
leave before his commander. Nevertheless, when some accusation upon this
ground was made against him to the censors, he desired leave to defend
himself, and did it so effectually, that, when he ended, he was regarded
as one who had been very much injured. He made it then appear, that he
had served twelve years in the army, whereas others are obliged to serve
only ten; that he had continued quaestor to the general three years,
whereas he might by law have returned at the end of one year; and alone
of all who went on the expedition, he had carried out a full, and had
brought home an empty purse, while others, after drinking up the wine
they had carried out with them, brought back the wine-jars filled again
with gold and silver from the war.
After this, they brought other accusations and writs against him, for
exciting insurrection amongst the allies, and being engaged in the
conspiracy that was discovered about Fregellae. But having cleared
himself of every suspicion, and proved his entire innocence, he now at
once came forward to ask for the tribuneship; in which, though he was
universally opposed by all persons of distinction, yet there came such
infinite numbers of people from all parts of Italy to vote for Caius,
that lodgings for them could not be supplied in the city; and the Field
being not large enough to contain the assembly, there were numbers who
climbed upon the roofs and the tilings of the houses to use their voices
in his favor. However, the nobility so far forced the people to their
pleasure and disappointed Caius’s hope, that he was not returned the
first, as was expected, but the fourth tribune. But when he came to the
execution of his office, it was seen presently who was really first
tribune, as he was a better orator than any of his contemporaries, and
the passion with which he still lamented his brother’s death, made him
the bolder in speaking. He used on all occasions to remind the people of
what had happened in that tumult, and laid before them the examples of
their ancestors, how they declared war against the Faliscans, only for
giving scurrilous language to one Genucius, a tribune of the people; and
sentenced Caius Veturius to death, for refusing to give way in the forum
to a tribune; “Whereas,” said he, “these men did, in the presence of you
all, murder Tiberius with clubs, and dragged the slaughtered body
through the middle of the city, to be cast into the river. Even his
friends, as many as could be taken, were put to death immediately,
without any trial, notwithstanding that just and ancient custom, which
has always been observed in our city, that whenever anyone is accused of
a capital crime, and does not make his personal appearance in court, a
trumpeter is sent in the morning to his lodging, to summon him by sound
of trumpet to appear; and before this ceremony is performed, the judges
do not proceed to the vote; so cautious and reserved were our ancestors
about business of life and death.”
Having moved the people’s passion with such addresses (and his voice
was of the loudest and strongest), he proposed two laws. The first was,
that whoever was turned out of any public office by the people, should
be thereby rendered incapable of bearing any office afterwards; the
second, that if any magistrate condemn a Roman to be banished, without a
legal trial, the people be authorized to take cognizance thereof.
One of these laws was manifestly leveled at Marcus Octavius, who, at
the instigation of Tiberius, had been deprived of his tribuneship. The
other touched Popilius, who, in his praetorship, had banished all
Tiberius’s friends; whereupon Popilius, being unwilling to stand the
hazard of a trial, fled out of Italy. As for the former law, it was
withdrawn by Caius himself, who said he yielded in the case of Octavius,
at the request of his mother Cornelia. This was very acceptable and
pleasing to the people, who had a great veneration for Cornelia, not
more for the sake of her father than for that of her children; and they
afterwards erected a statue of brass in honor of her, with this
inscription, Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi. There are several
expressions recorded, in which he used her name perhaps with too much
rhetoric, and too little self-respect, in his attacks upon his
adversaries. “How,” said he, “dare you presume to reflect upon Cornelia,
the mother of Tiberius?” And because the person who made the redactions
had been suspected of effeminate courses, “With what face,” said he,
“can you compare Cornelia with yourself? Have you brought forth children
as she has done? And yet all Rome knows, that she has refrained from the
conversation of men longer than you yourself have done.” Such was the
bitterness he used in his language; and numerous similar expressions
might be adduced from his written remains.
Of the laws which he now proposed, with the object of gratifying the
people and abridging the power of the senate, the first was concerning
the public lands, which were to be divided amongst the poor citizens;
another was concerning the common soldiers, that they should be clothed
at the public charge, without any diminution of their pay, and that none
should be obliged to serve in the army who was not full seventeen years
old; another gave the same right to all the Italians in general, of
voting at elections, as was enjoyed by the citizens of Rome; a fourth
related to the price of corn, which was to be sold at a lower rate than
formerly to the poor; and a fifth regulated the courts of justice,
greatly reducing the power of the senators. For hitherto, in all causes
senators only sat as judges, and were therefore much dreaded by the
Roman knights and the people. But Caius joined three hundred ordinary
citizens of equestrian rank with the senators, who were three hundred
likewise in number, and ordained that the judicial authority should be
equally invested in the six hundred. While he was arguing for the
ratification of this law, his behavior was observed to show in many
respects unusual earnestness, and whereas other popular leaders had
always hitherto, when speaking, turned their faces towards the senate
house, and the place called the comitium, he, on the contrary, was the
first man that in his harangue to the people turned himself the other
way, towards them, and continued after that time to do so. An
insignificant movement and change of posture, yet it marked no small
revolution in state affairs, the conversion, in a manner, of the whole
government from an aristocracy to a democracy; his action intimating
that public speakers should address themselves to the people, not the
senate.
When the commonalty ratified this law, and gave him power to select
those of the knights whom he approved of, to be judges, he was invested
with a sort of kingly power, and the senate itself submitted to receive
his advice in matters of difficulty; nor did he advise anything that
might derogate from the honor of that body. As, for example, his
resolution about the corn which Fabius the propraetor sent from Spain,
was very just and honorable; for he persuaded the senate to sell the
corn, and return the money to the same provinces which had furnished
them with it; and also that Fabius should be censured for rendering the
Roman government odious and insupportable. This got him extraordinary
respect and favor among the provinces. Besides all this, he proposed
measures for the colonization of several cities, for making roads, and
for building public granaries; of all which works he himself undertook
the management and superintendence, and was never wanting to give
necessary orders for the dispatch of all these different and great
undertakings; and that with such wonderful expedition and diligence, as
if he had been but engaged upon one of them; insomuch that all persons,
even those who hated or feared him, stood amazed to see what a capacity
he had for effecting and completing all he undertook. As for the people
themselves, they were transported at the very sight, when they saw him
surrounded with a crowd of contractors, artificers, public deputies,
military officers, soldiers, and scholars. All these he treated with an
easy familiarity, yet without abandoning his dignity in his gentleness;
and so accommodated his nature to the wants and occasions of everyone
who addressed him, that those were looked upon as no better than envious
detractors, who had represented him as a terrible, assuming, and violent
character. He was even a greater master of the popular leader’s art in
his common talk and his actions, than he was in his public addresses.
His most especial exertions were given to constructing the roads,
which he was careful to make beautiful and pleasant, as well as
convenient. They were drawn by his directions through the fields,
exactly in a straight line, partly paved with hewn stone, and partly
laid with solid masses of gravel. When he met with any valleys or deep
watercourses crossing the line, he either caused them to be filled up
with rubbish, or bridges to be built over them, so well leveled, that
all being of an equal height on both sides, the work presented one
uniform and beautiful prospect. Besides this, he caused the roads to be
all divided into miles (each mile containing little less than eight
furlongs, and erected pillars of stone to signify the distance from one
place to another. He likewise placed other stones at small distances
from one another, on both sides of the way, by the help of which
travelers might get easily on horseback without wanting a groom.
For these reasons, the people highly extolled him, and were ready
upon all occasions to express their affection towards him. One day, in
an oration to them, he declared that he had only one favor to request,
which if they granted, he should think the greatest obligation in the
world; yet if it were denied, he would never blame them for the refusal.
This expression made the world believe that his ambition was to be
consul; and it was generally expected that he wished to be both consul
and tribune at the same time. When the day for election of consuls was
at hand, and all in great expectation, he appeared in the Field with
Caius Fannius, canvassing together with his friends for his election.
This was of great effect in Fannius’s favor. He was chosen consul, and
Caius elected tribune the second time, without his own seeking or
petitioning for it, but at the voluntary motion of the people. But when
he understood that the senators were his declared enemies, and that
Fannius himself was none of the most zealous of friends, he began again
to rouse the people with other new laws. He proposed that a colony of
Roman citizens might be sent to re-people Tarentum and Capua, and that
the Latins should enjoy the same privileges with the citizens of Rome.
But the senate, apprehending that he would at last grow too powerful and
dangerous, took a new and unusual course to alienate the people’s
affections from him, by playing the demagogue in opposition to him, and
offering favors contrary to all good policy. Livius Drusus was
fellow-tribune with Caius, a person of as good a family and as well
educated as any amongst the Romans, and noways inferior to those who for
their eloquence and riches were the most honored and most powerful men
of that time. To him, therefore, the chief senators made their
application, exhorting him to attack Caius, and join in their
confederacy against him; which they designed to carry on, not by using
any force, or opposing the common people, but by gratifying and obliging
them with such unreasonable things as otherwise they would have felt it
honorable for them to incur the greatest unpopularity in resisting.
Livius offered to serve the senate with his authority in this
business; and proceeded accordingly to bring forward such laws as were
in reality neither honorable nor advantageous for the public; his whole
design being to outdo Caius in pleasing and cajoling the populace (as if
it had been in some comedy), with obsequious flattery and every kind of
gratifications; the senate thus letting it be seen plainly, that they
were not angry with Caius’s public measures, but only desirous to ruin
him utterly, or at least to lessen his reputation. For when Caius
proposed the settlement of only two colonies, and mentioned the better
class of citizens for that purpose, they accused him of abusing the
people; and yet, on the contrary, were pleased with Drusus, when he
proposed the sending out of twelve colonies, each to consist of three
thousand persons, and those, too, the most needy that he could find.
When Caius divided the public land amongst the poor citizens, and
charged them with a small rent, annually, to be paid into the exchequer,
they were angry at him, as one who sought to gratify the people only for
his own interest; yet afterwards they commended Livius, though he
exempted them from paying even that little acknowledgment. They were
displeased with Caius, for offering the Latins an equal right with the
Romans of voting at the election of magistrates; but when Livius
proposed that it might not be lawful for a Roman captain to scourge a
Latin soldier, they promoted the passing of that law. And Livius, in all
his speeches to the people, always told them, that he proposed no laws
but such as were agreeable to the senate, who had a particular regard to
the people’s advantage. And this truly was the only point in all his
proceedings which was of any real service, as it created more kindly
feelings towards the senate in the people; and whereas they formerly
suspected and hated the principal senators, Livius appeased and
mitigated this perverseness and animosity, by his profession that he had
done nothing in favor and for the benefit of the commons, without their
advice and approbation.
But the greatest credit which Drusus got for kindness and justice
towards the people was, that he never seemed to propose any law for his
own sake, or his own advantage; he committed the charge of seeing the
colonies rightly settled to other commissioners; neither did he ever
concern himself with the distribution of the moneys; whereas Caius
always took the principal part in any important transactions of this
kind. Rubrius, another tribune of the people, had proposed to have
Carthage again inhabited, which had been demolished by Scipio, and it
fell to Caius’s lot to see this performed, and for that purpose he
sailed to Africa. Drusus took this opportunity of his absence to
insinuate himself still more into the peoples’ affections, which he did
chiefly by accusing Fulvius, who was a particular friend to Caius, and
was appointed a commissioner with him for the division of the lands.
Fulvius was a man of a turbulent spirit, and notoriously hated by the
senate; and besides, he was suspected by others to have fomented the
differences between the citizens and their confederates, and underhand
to be inciting the Italians to rebel; though there was little other
evidence of the truth of these accusations, than his being an unsettled
character, and of a well-known seditious temper. This was one principal
cause of Caius’s ruin; for part of the envy which fell upon Fulvius, was
extended to him. And when Scipio Africanus died suddenly, and no cause
of such an unexpected death could be assigned, only some marks of blows
upon his body seemed to intimate that he had suffered violence, as is
related in the history of his life, the greatest part of the odium
attached to Fulvius, because he was his enemy, and that very day had
reflected upon Scipio in a public address to the people. Nor was Caius
himself clear from suspicion. However, this great outrage, committed too
upon the person of the greatest and most considerable man in Rome, was
never either punished or inquired into thoroughly, for the populace
opposed and hindered any judicial investigation, for fear that Caius
should be implicated in the charge if proceedings were carried on. This,
however, had happened some time before.
But in Africa, where at present Caius was engaged in the repeopling
of Carthage, which he named Junonia, many ominous appearances, which
presaged mischief, are reported to have been sent from the gods. For a
sudden gust of wind falling upon the first standard, and the
standard-bearer holding it fast, the staff broke; another sudden storm
blew away the sacrifices, which were laid upon the altars, and carried
them beyond the bounds laid out for the city; and the wolves came and
carried away the very marks that were set up to show the boundary.
Caius, notwithstanding all this, ordered and dispatched the whole
business in the space of seventy days, and then returned to Rome,
understanding how Fulvius was prosecuted by Drusus, and that the present
juncture of affairs would not suffer him to be absent. For Lucius
Opimius, one who sided with the nobility, and was of no small authority
in the senate, who had formerly sued to be consul, but was repulsed by
Caius’s interest, at the time when Fannius was elected, was in a fair
way now of being chosen consul, having a numerous company of supporters.
And it was generally believed, if he did obtain it, that he would wholly
ruin Caius, whose power was already in a declining condition; and the
people were not so apt to admire his actions as formerly, because there
were so many others who every day contrived new ways to please them,
with which the senate readily complied.
After his return to Rome, he quitted his house on the Palatine Mount,
and went to live near the market-place, endeavoring to make himself more
popular in those parts, where most of the humbler and poorer citizens
lived. He then brought forward the remainder of his proposed laws, as
intending to have them ratified by the popular vote; to support which a
vast number of people collected from all quarters. But the senate
persuaded Fannius, the consul, to command all persons who were not born
Romans, to depart the city. A new and unusual proclamation was thereupon
made, prohibiting any of the Allies or Confederates to appear at Rome
during that time. Caius, on the contrary, published an edict, accusing
the consul for what he had done, and setting forth to the Confederates,
that if they would continue upon the place, they might be assured of his
assistance and protection. However, he was not so good as his word; for
though he saw one of his own familiar friends and companions dragged to
prison by Fannius’s officers, he notwithstanding passed by, without
assisting him; either because he was afraid to stand the test of his
power, which was already decreased, or because, as he himself reported,
he was unwilling to give his enemies an opportunity, which they very
much desired, of coming to actual violence and fighting. About that time
there happened likewise a difference between him and his fellow-officers
upon this occasion. A show of gladiators was to be exhibited before the
people in the marketplace, and most of the magistrates erected scaffolds
round about, with an intention of letting them for advantage. Caius
commanded them to take down their scaffolds, that the poor people might
see the sport without paying anything. But nobody obeying these orders
of his, he gathered together a body of laborers, who worked for him, and
overthrew all the scaffolds, the very night before the contest was to
take place. So that by the next morning the market-place was cleared,
and the common people had an opportunity of seeing the pastime. In this,
the populace thought he had acted the part of a man; but he much
disobliged the tribunes, his colleagues, who regarded it as a piece of
violent and presumptuous interference.
This was thought to be the chief reason that he failed of being a
third time elected tribune; not but that he had the most votes, but
because his colleagues out of revenge caused false returns to be made.
But as to this matter there was a controversy. Certain it is, he very
much resented this repulse, and behaved with unusual arrogance towards
some of his adversaries who were joyful at his defeat, telling them,
that all this was but a false, sardonic mirth, as they little knew how
much his actions threw them into obscurity.
As soon as Opimius also was chosen consul, they presently canceled
several of Caius’s laws, and especially called in question his
proceedings at Carthage, omitting nothing that was likely to irritate
him, that from some effect of his passion they might find out a
colorable pretense to put him to death. Caius at first bore these things
very patiently; but afterwards, at the instigation of his friends,
especially Fulvius, he resolved to put himself at the head of a body of
supporters, to oppose the consul by force. They say also that on this
occasion his mother, Cornelia, joined in the sedition, and assisted him
by sending privately several strangers into Rome, under pretense as if
they came to be hired there for harvestmen; for that intimations of this
are given in her letters to him. However, it is confidently affirmed by
others, that Cornelia did not in the least approve of these actions.
When the day came in which Opimius designed to abrogate the laws of
Caius, both parties met very early at the capitol; and the consul having
performed all the rites usual in their sacrifices, one Quintus
Antyllius, an attendant on the consul, carrying out the entrails of the
victim, spoke to Fulvius, and his friends who stood about him, “Ye
factious citizens, make way for honest men.” Some report, that besides
this provoking language, he extended his naked arm towards them, as a
piece of scorn and contempt. Upon this he was presently killed with the
strong stiles which are commonly used in writing, though some say that
on this occasion they had been manufactured for this purpose only. This
murder caused a sudden consternation in the whole assembly, and the
heads of each faction had their different sentiments about it. As for
Caius he was much grieved, and severely reprimanded his own party,
because they had given their adversaries a reasonable pretense to
proceed against them, which they had so long hoped for. Opimius,
immediately seizing the occasion thus offered, was in great delight, and
urged the people to revenge; but there happening a great shower of rain
on a sudden, it put an end to the business of that day.
Early the next morning, the consul summoned the senate, and whilst he
advised with the senators in the senate-house, the corpse of Antyllius
was laid upon a bier, and brought through the market-place, being there
exposed to open view, just before the senate-house, with a great deal of
crying and lamentation. Opimius was not at all ignorant that this was
designed to be done; however, he seemed to be surprised, and wondered
what the meaning of it should be; the senators, therefore, presently
went out to know the occasion of it and, standing about the corpse,
uttered exclamations against the inhuman and barbarous act. The people
meantime could not but feel resentment and hatred for the senators,
remembering how they themselves had not only assassinated Tiberius
Gracchus, as he was executing his office in the very capitol, but had
also thrown his mangled body into the river; yet now they could honor
with their presence and their public lamentations in the forum the
corpse of an ordinary hired attendant, (who, though he might perhaps die
wrongfully, was, however, in a great measure the occasion of it
himself,) by these means hoping to undermine him who was the only
remaining defender and safeguard of the people.
The senators, after some time, withdrew, and presently ordered that
Opimius, the consul, should be invested with extraordinary power to
protect the commonwealth and suppress all tyrants. This being decreed,
he presently commanded the senators to arm themselves, and the Roman
knights to be in readiness very early the next morning, and every one of
them to be attended with two servants well armed. Fulvius, on the other
side, made his preparations and collected the populace. Caius at that
time returning from the market-place, made a stop just before his
father’s statue, and fixing his eyes for some time upon it, remained in
a deep contemplation; at length he sighed, shed tears, and departed.
This made no small impression upon those who saw it, and they began to
upbraid themselves, that they should desert and betray so worthy a man
as Caius. They therefore went directly to his house, remaining there as
a guard about it all night, though in a different manner from those who
were a guard to Fulvius; for they passed away the night with shouting
and drinking, and Fulvius himself, being the first to get drunk, spoke
and acted many things very unbecoming a man of his age and character. On
the other side, the party which guarded Caius, were quiet and diligent,
relieving one another by turns, and forecasting, as in a public
calamity, what the issue of things might be. As soon as daylight
appeared, they roused Fulvius, who had not yet slept off the effects of
his drinking; and having armed themselves with the weapons hung up in
his house, that were formerly taken from the Gauls, whom he conquered in
the time of his consulship, they presently, with threats and loud
acclamations, made their way towards the Aventine Mount.
Caius could not be persuaded to arm himself, but put on his gown, as
if he had been going to the assembly of the people, only with this
difference, that under it he had then a short dagger by his side. As he
was going out, his wife came running to him at the gate, holding him
with one hand, and with her other a young child of his. She thus bespoke
him: “Alas, Caius, I do not now part with you to let you address the
people, either as a tribune or a lawgiver, nor as if you were going to
some honorable war, when though you might perhaps have encountered that
fate which all must sometime or other submit to, yet you had left me
this mitigation of my sorrow, that my mourning was respected and
honored. You go now to expose your person to the murderers of Tiberius,
unarmed, indeed, and rightly so, choosing rather to suffer the worst of
injuries, than do the least yourself. But even your very death at this
time will not be serviceable to the public good. Faction prevails; power
and arms are now the only measures of justice. Had your brother fallen
before Numantia, the enemy would have given back what then had remained
of Tiberius; but such is my hard fate, that I probably must be an humble
suppliant to the floods or the waves, that they would somewhere restore
to me your relics; for since Tiberius was not spared, what trust can we
place either on the laws, or in the gods?” Licinia, thus bewailing,
Caius, by degrees getting loose from her embraces, silently withdrew
himself, being accompanied by his friends; she, endeavoring to catch him
by the gown, fell prostrate upon the earth, lying there for some time
speechless. Her servants took her up for dead, and conveyed her to her
brother Crassus.
Fulvius, when the people were gathered together in a full body, by
the advice of Caius, sent his youngest son into the market-place, with a
herald’s rod in his hand. He, being a very handsome youth, and modestly
addressing himself, with tears in his eyes and a becoming bashfulness,
offered proposals of agreement to the consul and the whole senate. The
greatest part of the assembly were inclinable to accept of the
proposals; but Opimius said, that it did not become them to send
messengers and capitulate with the senate, but to surrender at
discretion to the laws, like loyal citizens, and endeavor to merit their
pardon by submission. He commanded the youth not to return, unless they
would comply with these conditions. Caius, as it is reported, was very
forward to go and clear himself before the senate; but none of his
friends consenting to it, Fulvius sent his son a second time to
intercede for them, as before. But Opimius, who was resolved that a
battle should ensue, caused the youth to be apprehended, and committed
into custody; and then, with a company of his foot-soldiers and some
Cretan archers, set upon the party under Fulvius. These archers did such
execution, and inflicted so many wounds, that a rout and flight quickly
ensued. Fulvius fled into an obscure bathing-house; but shortly after
being discovered, he and his eldest son were slain together. Caius was
not observed to use any violence against anyone; but, extremely
disliking all these outrages, retired to Diana’s temple. There he
attempted to kill himself, but was hindered by his faithful friends,
Pomponius and Licinius, they took his sword away from him, and were very
urgent that he would endeavor to make his escape. It is reported, that
falling upon his knee and lifting up his hands, he prayed the goddess
that the Roman people, as a punishment for their ingratitude and
treachery, might always remain in slavery. For as soon as a proclamation
was made of a pardon, the greater part openly deserted him.
Caius, therefore, endeavored now to make his escape, but was pursued
so close by his enemies, as far as the wooden bridge, that from thence
he narrowly escaped. There his two trusty friends begged of him to
preserve his own person by flight, whilst they in the meantime would
keep their post, and maintain the passage; neither could their enemies,
until they were both slain, pass the bridge. Caius had no other
companion in his flight but one Philocrates, a servant of his. As he ran
along, everybody encouraged him, and wished him success, as standers-by
may do to those who are engaged in a race, but nobody either lent him
any assistance, or would furnish him with a horse, though he asked for
one; for his enemies had gained ground, and got very near him. However,
he had still time enough to hide himself in a little grove, consecrated
to the Furies. In that place, his servant Philocrates having first slain
him, presently afterwards killed himself also, and fell dead upon his
master. Though some affirm it for a truth, that they were both taken
alive by their enemies, and that Philocrates embraced his master so
close, that they could not wound Caius until his servant was slain.
They say that when Caius’s head was cut off, and carried away by one
of his murderers, Septimuleius, Opimius’s friend met him, and forced it
from him; because, before the battle began, they had made proclamation,
that whoever should bring the head either of Caius or Fulvius, should,
as a reward, receive its weight in gold. Septimuleius, therefore, having
fixed Caius’s head upon the top of his spear, came and presented it to
Opimius. They presently brought the scales, and it was found to weigh
above seventeen pounds. But in this affair, Septimuleius gave as great
signs of his knavery, as he had done before of his cruelty; for having
taken out the brains, he had filled the skull with lead. There were
others who brought the head of Fulvius too, but, being mean,
inconsiderable persons, were turned away without the promised reward.
The bodies of these two persons, as well as of the rest who were slain,
to the number of three thousand men, were all thrown into the river;
their goods were confiscated, and their widows forbidden to put
themselves into mourning. They dealt even more severely with Licinia,
Caius’s wife, and deprived her even of her jointure; and as an addition
still to all their inhumanity, they barbarously murdered Fulvius’s
youngest son; his only crime being, not that he took up arms against
them, or that he was present in the battle, but merely that he had come
with articles of agreement; for this he was first imprisoned, then
slain.
But that which angered the common people beyond all these things was,
because at this time, in memory of his success, Opimius built the temple
of Concord, as if he gloried and triumphed in the slaughter of so many
citizens. Somebody in the night time, under the inscription of the
temple, added this verse:—
Folly and Discord Concord’s temple built.
Yet this Opimius, the first who, being consul, presumed to usurp the
power of a dictator, condemning, without any trial, with three thousand
other citizens, Caius Gracchus and Fulvius Flaccus, one of whom had
triumphed, and been consul, the other far excelled all his
contemporaries in virtue and honor, afterwards was found incapable of
keeping his hands from thieving; and when he was sent ambassador to
Jugurtha, king of Numidia, he was there corrupted by presents, and at
his return being shamefully convicted of it, lost all his honors, and
grew old amidst the hatred and the insults of the people, who, though
humbled, and affrighted at the time, did not fail before long to let
everybody see what respect and veneration they had for the memory of the
Gracchi. They ordered their statues to be made and set up in public
view; they consecrated the places where they were slain, and thither
brought the first-fruits of everything, according to the season of the
year, to make their offerings. Many came likewise thither to their
devotions, and daily worshipped there, as at the temples of the gods.
It is reported, that as Cornelia, their mother, bore the loss of her
two sons with a noble and undaunted spirit, so, in reference to the holy
places in which they were slain, she said, their dead bodies were well
worthy of such sepulchres. She removed afterwards, and dwelt near the
place called Misenum, not at all altering her former way of living. She
had many friends, and hospitably received many strangers at her house;
many Greeks and learned men were continually about her; nor was there
any foreign prince but received gifts from her and presented her again.
Those who were conversant with her, were much interested, when she
pleased to entertain them with her recollections of her father Scipio
Africanus, and of his habits and way of living. But it was most
admirable to hear her make mention of her sons, without any tears or
sign of grief, and give the full account of all their deeds and
misfortunes, as if she had been relating the history of some ancient
heroes. This made some imagine, that age, or the greatness of her
afflictions, had made her senseless and devoid of natural feelings. But
they who so thought, were themselves more truly insensible, not to see
how much a noble nature and education avail to conquer any affliction;
and though fortune may often be more successful, and may defeat the
efforts of virtue to avert misfortunes, it cannot, when we incur them,
prevent our bearing them reasonably.
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Comparison of Tiberius and Caius Gracchus with Agis and
Cleomenes
Having given an account severally of these persons, it remains
only that we should take a view of them in comparison with one
another.
As for the Gracchi, the greatest detractors and their worst
enemies could not but allow, that they had a genius to virtue beyond
all other Romans, which was improved also by a generous education.
Agis and Cleomenes may be supposed to have had stronger natural
gifts, since, though they wanted all the advantages of good
education, and were bred up in those very customs, manners, and
habits of living, which had for a long time corrupted others, yet
they were public examples of temperance and frugality. Besides, the
Gracchi, happening to live when Rome had her greatest repute for
honor and virtuous actions, might justly have been ashamed, if they
had not also left to the next generation the noble inheritance of
the virtues of their ancestors. Whereas the other two had parents of
different morals; and though they found their country in a sinking
condition, and debauched, yet that did not quench their forward zeal
to what was just and honorable.
The integrity of the two Romans, and their superiority to money,
was chiefly remarkable in this; that in office and the
administration of public affairs, they kept themselves from the
imputation of unjust gain; whereas Agis might justly be offended, if
he had only that mean commendation given him, that he took nothing
wrongfully from any man, seeing he distributed his own fortunes,
which, in ready money only, amounted to the value of six hundred
talents, amongst his fellow-citizens. Extortion would have appeared
a crime of a strange nature to him, who esteemed it a piece of
covetousness to possess, though never so justly gotten, greater
riches than his neighbors.
Their political actions, also, and the state revolutions they
attempted, were very different in magnitude. The chief things in
general that the two Romans commonly aimed at, were the settlement
of cities and mending of highways; and, in particular, the boldest
design which Tiberius is famed for, was the recovery of the public
lands; and Caius gained his greatest reputation by the addition, for
the exercise of judicial powers, of three hundred of the order of
knights to the same number of senators. Whereas the alteration which
Agis and Cleomenes made, was in a quite different kind. They did not
set about removing partial evils and curing petty incidents of
disease, which would have been (as Plato says), like cutting off one
of the Hydra’s heads, the very means to increase the number; but
they instituted a thorough reformation, such as would free the
country at once from all its grievances, or rather, to speak more
truly, they reversed that former change which had been the cause of
all their calamities, and so restored their city to its ancient
state.
However, this must be confessed in the behalf of the Gracchi,
that their undertakings were always opposed by men of the greatest
influence. On the other side, those things which were first
attempted by Agis, and afterwards consummated by Cleomenes, were
supported by the great and glorious precedent of those ancient laws
concerning frugality and leveling which they had themselves received
upon the authority of Lycurgus, and he had instituted on that of
Apollo. It is also further observable, that from the actions of the
Gracchi, Rome received no additions to her former greatness;
whereas, under the conduct of Cleomenes, Greece presently saw Sparta
exert her sovereign power over all Peloponnesus, and contest the
supreme command with the most powerful princes of the time; success
in which would have freed Greece from Illyrian and Gaulish violence,
and placed her once again under the orderly rule of the sons of
Hercules.
From the circumstances of their deaths, also, we may infer some
difference in the quality of their courage. The Gracchi, fighting
with their fellow-citizens, were both slain, as they endeavored to
make their escape; Agis willingly submitted to his fate, rather than
any citizen should be in danger of his life. Cleomenes, being
shamefully and unjustly treated, made an effort toward revenge, but
failing of that, generously fell by his own hand.
On the other side it must be said, that Agis never did a great
action worthy a commander, being prevented by an untimely death. And
as for those heroic actions of Cleomenes, we may justly compare with
them that of Tiberius, when he was the first who attempted to scale
the walls of Carthage, which was no mean exploit. We may add the
peace which he concluded with the Numantines, by which he saved the
lives of twenty thousand Romans, who otherwise had certainly been
cut off. And Caius, not only at home, but in war in Sardinia,
displayed distinguished courage. So that their early actions were no
small argument, that afterwards they might have rivaled the best of
the Roman commanders, if they had not died so young.
In civil life, Agis showed a lack of determination; he let
himself be baffled by the craft of Agesilaus; disappointed the
expectations of the citizens as to the division of the lands, and
generally left all the designs which he had deliberately formed and
publicly announced, unperformed and unfulfilled, through a young
man’s want of resolution. Cleomenes, on the other hand, proceeded to
effect the revolution with only too much boldness and violence, and
unjustly slew the Ephors, whom he might, by superiority in arms,
have gained over to his party, or else might easily have banished,
as he did several others of the city. For to use the knife, unless
in the extremest necessity, is neither good surgery nor wise policy,
but in both cases mere unskillfulness; and in the latter, unjust as
well as unfeeling. Of the Gracchi, neither the one nor the other was
the first to shed the blood of his fellow-citizens; and Caius is
reported to have avoided all manner of resistance, even when his
life was aimed at, showing himself always valiant against a foreign
enemy, but wholly inactive in a sedition. This was the reason that
he went from his own house unarmed, and withdrew when the battle
began, and in all respects showed himself anxious rather not to do
any harm to others, than not to suffer any himself. Even the very
flight of the Gracchi must not be looked upon as an argument of
their mean spirit, but an honorable retreat from endangering of
others. For if they had stayed, they must either have yielded to
those who assailed them, or else have fought them in their own
defense.
The greatest crime that can be laid to Tiberius’s charge, was the
deposing of his fellow tribune, and seeking afterwards a second
tribuneship for himself. As for the death of Antyllius, it is
falsely and unjustly attributed to Caius, for he was slain unknown
to him, and much to his grief. On the contrary, Cleomenes (not to
mention the murder of the Ephors) set all the slaves at liberty, and
governed by himself alone in reality, having a partner only for
show; having made choice of his brother Euclidas, who was one of the
same family. He prevailed upon Archidamus, who was the right heir to
the kingdom of the other line, to venture to return home from
Messene; but after his being slain, by not doing anything to revenge
his death, confirmed the suspicion that he was privy to it himself.
Lycurgus, whose example he professed to imitate, after he had
voluntarily settled his kingdom upon Charillus, his brother’s son,
fearing lest, if the youth should chance to die by accident, he
might be suspected for it, traveled a long time, and would not
return again to Sparta until Charillus had a son, and an heir to his
kingdom. But we have indeed no other Grecian who is worthy to be
compared with Lycurgus, and it is clear enough that in the public
measures of Cleomenes various acts of considerable audacity and
lawlessness may be found.
Those, therefore, who incline to blame their characters, may
observe, that the two Grecians were disturbers even from their
youth, lovers of contest, and aspirants to despotic power; that
Tiberius and Caius by nature had an excessive desire after glory and
honors. Beyond this, their enemies could find nothing to bring
against them; but as soon as the contention began with their
adversaries, their heat and passions would so far prevail beyond
their natural temper, that by them, as by ill winds, they were
driven afterwards to all their rash undertakings. What could be more
just and honorable than their first design, had not the power and
the faction of the rich, by endeavoring to abrogate that law,
engaged them both in those fatal quarrels, the one, for his own
preservation, the other, to revenge his brother’s death, who was
murdered without any law or justice?
From the account, therefore, which has been given, you yourself
may perceive the difference; which if it were to be pronounced of
every one singly, I should affirm Tiberius to have excelled them all
in virtue; that young Agis had been guilty of the fewest misdeeds;
and that in action and boldness Caius came far short of Cleomenes.
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Demosthenes
Whoever it was, Sosius, that wrote the poem in honor of
Alcibiades, upon his winning the chariot race at the Olympian Games,
whether it were Euripides, as is most commonly thought, or some other
person, he tells us, that to a man’s being happy it is in the first
place requisite he should be born in “some famous city.” But for him
that would attain to true happiness, which for the most part is placed
in the qualities and disposition of the mind, it is, in my opinion, of
no other disadvantage to be of a mean, obscure country, than to be born
of a small or plain-looking woman. For it were ridiculous to think that
Iulis, a little part of Ceos, which itself is no great island, and
Aegina, which an Athenian once said ought to be removed, like a small
eye-sore, from the port of Piraeus, should breed good actors and poets,
and yet should never be able to produce a just, temperate, wise, and
high-minded man. Other arts, whose end it is to acquire riches or honor,
are likely enough to wither and decay in poor and undistinguished towns;
but virtue, like a strong and durable plant, may take root and thrive in
any place where it can lay hold of an ingenuous nature, and a mind that
is industrious. I, for my part, shall desire that for any deficiency of
mine in right judgment or action, I myself may be, as in fairness, held
accountable, and shall not attribute it to the obscurity of my
birthplace.
But if any man undertake to write a history, that has to be collected
from materials gathered by observation and the reading of works not easy
to be got in all places, nor written always in his own language, but
many of them foreign and dispersed in other hands, for him, undoubtedly,
it is in the first place and above all things most necessary, to reside
in some city of good note, addicted to liberal arts, and populous; where
he may have plenty of all sorts of books, and upon inquiry may hear and
inform himself of such particulars as, having escaped the pens of
writers, are more faithfully preserved in the memories of men, lest his
work be deficient in many things, even those which it can least dispense
with.
But for me, I live in a little town, where I am willing to continue,
lest it should grow less; and having had no leisure, while I was in Rome
and other parts of Italy, to exercise myself in the Roman language, on
account of public business and of those who came to be instructed by me
in philosophy, it was very late, and in the decline of my age, before I
applied myself to the reading of Latin authors. Upon which that which
happened to me, may seem strange, though it be true; for it was not so
much by the knowledge of words, that I came to the understanding of
things, as by my experience of things I was enabled to follow the
meaning of words. But to appreciate the graceful and ready pronunciation
of the Roman tongue, to understand the various figures and connection of
words, and such other ornaments, in which the beauty of speaking
consists, is, I doubt not, an admirable and delightful accomplishment;
but it requires a degree of practice and study, which is not easy, and
will better suit those who have more leisure, and time enough yet before
them for the occupation.
And so in this fifth book of my Parallel Lives, in giving an account
of Demosthenes and Cicero, my comparison of their natural dispositions
and their characters will be formed upon their actions and their lives
as statesmen, and I shall not pretend to criticize their orations one
against the other, to show which of the two was the more charming or the
more powerful speaker. For there, as Ion says,
We are but like a fish upon dry land;
a proverb which Caecilius perhaps forgot, when he employed his always
adventurous talents in so ambitious an attempt as a comparison of
Demosthenes and Cicero: and, possibly, if it were a thing obvious and
easy for every man to know himself, the precept had not passed for an
oracle.
The divine power seems originally to have designed Demosthenes and
Cicero upon the same plan, giving them many similarities in their
natural characters, as their passion for distinction and their love of
liberty in civil life, and their want of courage in dangers and war, and
at the same time also to have added many accidental resemblances. I
think there can hardly be found two other orators, who, from small and
obscure beginnings, became so great and mighty; who both contested with
kings and tyrants; both lost their daughters, were driven out of their
country, and returned with honor; who, flying from thence again, were
both seized upon by their enemies, and at last ended their lives with
the liberty of their countrymen. So that if we were to suppose there had
been a trial of skill between nature and fortune, as there is sometimes
between artists, it would be hard to judge, whether that succeeded best
in making them alike in their dispositions and manners, or this, in the
coincidences of their lives. We will speak of the eldest first.
Demosthenes, the father of Demosthenes, was a citizen of good rank
and quality, as Theopompus informs us, surnamed the Sword-maker, because
he had a large workhouse, and kept servants skillful in that art at
work. But of that which Aeschines, the orator, said of his mother, that
she was descended of one Gylon, who fled his country upon an accusation
of treason, and of a barbarian woman, I can affirm nothing, whether he
spoke true, or slandered and maligned her. This is certain, that
Demosthenes, being as yet but seven years old, was left by his father in
affluent circumstances, the whole value of his estate being little short
of fifteen talents, and that he was wronged by his guardians, part of
his fortune being embezzled by them, and the rest neglected; insomuch
that even his teachers were defrauded of their salaries. This was the
reason that he did not obtain the liberal education that he should have
had; besides that on account of weakness and delicate health, his mother
would not let him exert himself, and his teachers forbore to urge him.
He was meager and sickly from the first, and hence had his nickname of
Batalus, given him, it is said, by the boys, in derision of his
appearance; Batalus being, as some tell us, a certain enervated
flute-player, in ridicule of whom Antiphanes wrote a play. Others speak
of Batalus as a writer of wanton verses and drinking songs. And it would
seem that some part of the body, not decent to be named, was at that
time called batalus by the Athenians. But the name of Argas, which also
they say was a nickname of Demosthenes, was given him for his behavior,
as being savage and spiteful, argas being one of the poetical words for
a snake; or for his disagreeable way of speaking, Argas being the name
of a poet, who composed very harshly and disagreeably. So much, as Plato
says, for such matters.
The first occasion of his eager inclination to oratory they say, was
this. Callistratus, the orator, being to plead in open court for Oropus,
the expectation of the issue of that cause was very great, as well for
the ability of the orator, who was then at the height of his reputation,
as also for the fame of the action itself. Therefore, Demosthenes,
having heard the tutors and schoolmasters agreeing among themselves to
be present at this trial, with much importunity persuades his tutor to
take him along with him to the hearing; who, having some acquaintance
with the doorkeepers, procured a place where the boy might sit unseen,
and hear what was said. Callistratus having got the day, and being much
admired, the boy began to look upon his glory with a kind of emulation,
observing how he was courted on all hands, and attended on his way by
the multitude; but his wonder was more than all excited by the power of
his eloquence, which seemed able to subdue and win over anything. From
this time, therefore, bidding farewell to other sorts of learning and
study, he now began to exercise himself, and to take pains in
declaiming, as one that meant to be himself also an orator. He made use
of Isaeus as his guide to the art of speaking, though Isocrates at that
time was giving lessons; whether, as some say, because he was an orphan,
and was not able to pay Isocrates his appointed fee of ten minae, or
because he preferred Isaeus’s speaking, as being more business-like and
effective in actual use. Hermippus says, that he met with certain
memoirs without any author’s name, in which it was written that
Demosthenes was a scholar to Plato, and learnt much of his eloquence
from him; and he also mentions Ctesibius, as reporting from Callias of
Syracuse and some others, that Demosthenes secretly obtained a knowledge
of the systems of Isocrates and Alcidamas, and mastered them thoroughly.
As soon, therefore, as he was grown up to man’s estate, he began to
go to law with his guardians, and to write orations against them; who,
in the meantime, had recourse to various subterfuges and pleas for new
trials, and Demosthenes, though he was thus, as Thucydides says, taught
his business in dangers, and by his own exertions was successful in his
suit, was yet unable for all this to recover so much as a small fraction
of his patrimony. He only attained some degree of confidence in
speaking, and some competent experience in it. And having got a taste of
the honor and power which are acquired by pleadings, he now ventured to
come forth, and to undertake public business. And, as it is said of
Laomedon, the Orchomenian, that by advice of his physician, he used to
run long distances to keep off some disease of his spleen, and by that
means having, through labor and exercise, framed the habit of his body,
he betook himself to the great garland games, and became one of the best
runners at the long race; so it happened to Demosthenes, who, first
venturing upon oratory for the recovery of his own private property, by
this acquired ability in speaking, and at length, in public business, as
it were in the great games, came to have the preeminence of all
competitors in the assembly. But when he first addressed himself to the
people, he met with great discouragements, and was derided for his
strange and uncouth style, which was cumbered with long sentences and
tortured with formal arguments to a most harsh and disagreeable excess.
Besides, he had, it seems, a weakness in his voice, a perplexed and
indistinct utterance and a shortness of breath, which, by breaking and
disjointing his sentences much obscured the sense and meaning of what he
spoke. So that in the end, being quite disheartened, he forsook the
assembly; and as he was walking carelessly and sauntering about the
Piraeus, Eunomus, the Thriasian, then a very old man, seeing him,
upbraided him, saying that his diction was very much like that of
Pericles, and that he was wanting to himself through cowardice and
meanness of spirit, neither bearing up with courage against popular
outcry, nor fitting his body for action, but suffering it to languish
through mere sloth and negligence.
Another time, when the assembly had refused to hear him, and he was
going home with his head muffled up, taking it very heavily, they relate
that Satyrus, the actor, followed him, and being his familiar
acquaintance, entered into conversation with him. To whom, when
Demosthenes bemoaned himself, that having been the most industrious of
all the pleaders, and having almost spent the whole strength and vigor
of his body in that employment, he could not yet find any acceptance
with the people, that drunken sots, mariners, and illiterate fellows
were heard, and had the hustings for their own, while he himself was
despised, “You say true, Demosthenes,” replied Satyrus, “but I will
quickly remedy the cause of all this, if you will repeat to me some
passage out of Euripides or Sophocles.” Which when Demosthenes had
pronounced, Satyrus presently taking it up after him gave the same
passage, in his rendering of it, such a new form, by accompanying it
with the proper mien and gesture, that to Demosthenes it seemed quite
another thing. By this being convinced how much grace and ornament
language acquires from action, he began to esteem it a small matter, and
as good as nothing for a man to exercise himself in declaiming, if he
neglected enunciation and delivery. Hereupon he built himself a place to
study in underground, (which was still remaining in our time,) and
hither he would come constantly every day to form his action, and to
exercise his voice; and here he would continue, oftentimes without
intermission, two or three months together, shaving one half of his
head, that so for shame he might not go abroad, though he desired it
ever so much.
Nor was this all, but he also made his conversation with people
abroad, his common speech, and his business, subservient to his studies,
taking from hence occasions and arguments as matter to work upon. For as
soon as he was parted from his company, down he would go at once into
his study, and run over everything in order that had passed, and the
reasons that might be alleged for and against it. Any speeches, also,
that he was present at, he would go over again with himself, and reduce
into periods; and whatever others spoke to him, or he to them, he would
correct, transform, and vary several ways. Hence it was, that he was
looked upon as a person of no great natural genius, but one who owed all
the power and ability he had in speaking to labor and industry. Of the
truth of which it was thought to be no small sign, that he was very
rarely heard to speak upon the occasion, but though he were by name
frequently called upon by the people, as he sat in the assembly, yet he
would not rise unless he had previously considered the subject, and came
prepared for it. So that many of the popular pleaders used to make it a
jest against him; and Pytheas once, scoffing at him, said that his
arguments smelt of the lamp. To which Demosthenes gave the sharp answer,
“It is true, indeed, Pytheas, that your lamp and mine are not conscious
of the same things.” To others, however, he would not much deny it, but
would admit frankly enough, that he neither entirely wrote his speeches
beforehand, nor yet spoke wholly extempore. And he would affirm, that it
was the more truly popular act to use premeditation, such preparation
being a kind of respect to the people; whereas, to slight and take no
care how what is said is likely to be received by the audience, shows
something of an oligarchical temper, and is the course of one that
intends force rather than persuasion. Of his want of courage and
assurance to speak off-hand, they make it also another argument, that
when he was at a loss, and discomposed, Demades would often rise up on
the sudden to support him, but he was never observed to do the same for
Demades.
Whence then, may some say, was it, that Aeschines speaks of him as a
person so much to be wondered at for his boldness in speaking? Or, how
could it be, when Python, the Byzantine, “with so much confidence and
such a torrent of words inveighed against” the Athenians, that
Demosthenes alone stood up to oppose him? Or, when Lamachus, the
Myrinaean, had written a panegyric upon king Philip and Alexander, in
which he uttered many things in reproach of the Thebans and Olynthians,
and at the Olympic Games recited it publicly, how was it, that he,
rising up, and recounting historically and demonstratively what benefits
and advantages all Greece had received from the Thebans and Chalcidians,
and on the contrary, what mischiefs the flatterers of the Macedonians
had brought upon it, so turned the minds of all that were present that
the sophist, in alarm at the outcry against him, secretly made his way
out of the assembly? But Demosthenes, it should seem, regarded other
points in the character of Pericles to be unsuited to him; but his
reserve and his sustained manner, and his forbearing to speak on the
sudden, or upon every occasion, as being the things to which principally
he owed his greatness, these he followed, and endeavored to imitate,
neither wholly neglecting the glory which present occasion offered, nor
yet willing too often to expose his faculty to the mercy of chance. For,
in fact, the orations which were spoken by him had much more of boldness
and confidence in them than those that he wrote, if we may believe
Eratosthenes, Demetrius the Phalerian, and the Comedians. Eratosthenes
says that often in his speaking he would be transported into a kind of
ecstasy, and Demetrius, that he uttered the famous metrical adjuration
to the people,
By the earth, the springs, the rivers, and the streams,
as a man inspired, and beside himself. One of the comedians calls him
a rhopoperperethras, and another scoffs at him for his use of
antithesis: —
And what he took, took back; a phrase to please
The very fancy of Demosthenes.
Unless, indeed, this also is meant by Antiphanes for a jest upon the
speech on Halonesus, which Demosthenes advised the Athenians not to take
at Philip’s hands, but to take back.
All, however, used to consider Demades, in the mere use of his
natural gifts, an orator impossible to surpass, and that in what he
spoke on the sudden, he excelled all the study and preparation of
Demosthenes. And Ariston the Chian, has recorded a judgment which
Theophrastus passed upon the orators; for being asked what kind of
orator he accounted Demosthenes, he answered, “Worthy of the city of
Athens;” and then, what he thought of Demades, he answered, “Above it.”
And the same philosopher reports, that Polyeuctus, the Sphettian, one of
the Athenian politicians about that time, was wont to say that
Demosthenes was the greatest orator, but Phocion the ablest, as he
expressed the most sense in the fewest words. And, indeed, it is
related, that Demosthenes himself, as often as Phocion stood up to plead
against him, would say to his acquaintance, “Here comes the knife to my
speech.” Yet it does not appear whether he had this feeling for his
powers of speaking, or for his life and character, and meant to say that
one word or nod from a man who was really trusted, would go further than
a thousand lengthy periods from others.
Demetrius, the Phalerian, tells us, that he was informed by
Demosthenes himself, now grown old, that the ways he made use of to
remedy his natural bodily infirmities and defects were such as these;
his inarticulate and stammering pronunciation he overcame and rendered
more distinct by speaking with pebbles in his mouth; his voice he
disciplined by declaiming and reciting speeches or verses when he was
out of breath, while running or going up steep places; and that in his
house he had a large looking-glass, before which he would stand and go
through his exercises. It is told that someone once came to request his
assistance as a pleader, and related how he had been assaulted and
beaten. “Certainly,” said Demosthenes, “nothing of the kind can have
happened to you.” Upon which the other, raising his voice, exclaimed
loudly, “What, Demosthenes, nothing has been done to me?” “Ah,” replied
Demosthenes, “now I hear the voice of one that has been injured and
beaten.” Of so great consequence towards the gaining of belief did he
esteem the tone and action of the speaker. The action which he used
himself was wonderfully pleasing to the common people; but by
well-educated people, as, for example, by Demetrius, the Phalerian, it
was looked upon as mean, humiliating, and unmanly. And Hermippus says of
Aesion, that, being asked his opinion concerning the ancient orators and
those of his own time, he answered that it was admirable to see with
what composure and in what high style they addressed themselves to the
people; but that the orations of Demosthenes, when they are read,
certainly appear to be superior in point of construction, and more
effective. His written speeches, beyond all question, are characterized
by austere tone and by their severity. In his extempore retorts and
rejoinders, he allowed himself the use of jest and mockery. When Demades
said, “Demosthenes teach me! So might the sow teach Minerva!” he
replied, “Was it this Minerva, that was lately found playing the harlot
in Collytus?” When a thief, who had the nickname of the Brazen, was
attempting to upbraid him for sitting up late, and writing by
candlelight, “I know very well,” said he, “that you had rather have all
lights out; and wonder not, O ye men of Athens, at the many robberies
which are committed, since we have thieves of brass and walls of clay.”
But on these points, though we have much more to mention, we will add
nothing at present. We will proceed to take an estimate of his character
from his actions and his life as a statesman.
His first entering into public business was much about the time of
the Phocian war, as himself affirms, and may be collected from his
Philippic orations. For of these, some were made after that action was
over, and the earliest of them refer to its concluding events. It is
certain that he engaged in the accusation of Midias when he was but two
and thirty years old, having as yet no interest or reputation as a
politician. And this it was, I consider, that induced him to withdraw
the action, and accept a sum of money as a compromise. For of himself
He was no easy or good-natured man,
but of a determined disposition, and resolute to see himself righted;
however, finding it a hard matter and above his strength to deal with
Midias, a man so well secured on all sides with money, eloquence, and
friends, he yielded to the entreaties of those who interceded for him.
But had he seen any hopes or possibility of prevailing, I cannot believe
that three thousand drachmas could have taken off the edge of his
revenge. The object which he chose for himself in the commonwealth was
noble and just, the defense of the Grecians against Philip; and in this
he behaved himself so worthily that he soon grew famous, and excited
attention everywhere for his eloquence and courage in speaking. He was
admired through all Greece, the king of Persia courted him, and by
Philip himself he was more esteemed than all the other orators. His very
enemies were forced to confess that they had to do with a man of mark;
for such a character even Aeschines and Hyperides give him, where they
accuse and speak against him.
So that I cannot imagine what ground Theopompus had to say, that
Demosthenes was of a fickle, unsettled disposition, and could not long
continue firm either to the same men or the same affairs; whereas the
contrary is most apparent, for the same party and post in politics which
he held from the beginning, to these he kept constant to the end; and
was so far from leaving them while he lived, that he chose rather to
forsake his life than his purpose. He was never heard to apologize for
shifting sides like Demades, who would say, he often spoke against
himself, but never against the city; nor as Melanopus, who, being
generally against Callistratus, but being often bribed off with money,
was wont to tell the people, “The man indeed is my enemy, but we must
submit for the good of our country;” nor again as Nicodemus, the
Messenian, who having first appeared on Cassander’s side, and afterwards
taken part with Demetrius, said the two things were not in themselves
contrary, it being always most advisable to obey the conqueror. We have
nothing of this kind to say against Demosthenes, as one who would turn
aside or prevaricate, either in word or deed. There could not have been
less variation in his public acts if they had all been played, so to
say, from first to last, from the same score. Panaetius, the
philosopher, said, that most of his orations are so written, as if they
were to prove this one conclusion, that what is honest and virtuous is
for itself only to be chosen; as that of the Crown, that against
Aristocrates, that for the Immunities, and the Philippics; in all which
he persuades his fellow-citizens to pursue not that which seems most
pleasant, easy, or profitable; but declares over and over again, that
they ought in the first place to prefer that which is just and
honorable, before their own safety and preservation. So that if he had
kept his hands clean, if his courage for the wars had been answerable to
the generosity of his principles, and the dignity of his orations, he
might deservedly have his name placed, not in the number of such orators
as Moerocles, Polyeuctus, and Hyperides, but in the highest rank with
Cimon, Thucydides, and Pericles.
Certainly amongst those who were contemporary with him, Phocion,
though he appeared on the less commendable side in the commonwealth, and
was counted as one of the Macedonian party, nevertheless, by his courage
and his honesty, procured himself a name not inferior to those of
Ephialtes, Aristides, and Cimon. But Demosthenes, being neither fit to
be relied on for courage in arms, as Demetrius says, nor on all sides
inaccessible to bribery (for how invincible soever he was against the
gifts of Philip and the Macedonians, yet elsewhere he lay open to
assault, and was overpowered by the gold which came down from Susa and
Ecbatana), was therefore esteemed better able to recommend than to
imitate the virtues of past times. And yet (excepting only Phocion),
even in his life and manners, he far surpassed the other orators of his
time. None of them addressed the people so boldly; he attacked the
faults, and opposed himself to the unreasonable desires of the
multitude, as may be seen in his orations. Theopompus writes, that the
Athenians having by name selected Demosthenes, and called upon him to
accuse a certain person, he refused to do it; upon which the assembly
being all in an uproar, he rose up and said, “Your counselor, whether
you will or no, O ye men of Athens, you shall always have me; but a
sycophant or false accuser, though you would have me, I shall never be.”
And his conduct in the case of Antiphon was perfectly aristocratical;
whom, after he had been acquitted in the assembly, he took and brought
before the court of Areopagus, and, setting at naught the displeasure of
the people, convicted him there of having promised Philip to burn the
arsenal; whereupon the man was condemned by that court, and suffered for
it. He accused, also, Theoris, the priestess, amongst other
misdemeanors, of having instructed and taught the slaves to deceive and
cheat their masters, for which the sentence of death passed upon her,
and she was executed.
The oration which Apollodorus made use of, and by it carried the
cause against Timotheus, the general, in an action of debt, it is said
was written for him by Demosthenes; as also those against Phormion and
Stephanus, in which latter case he was thought to have acted
dishonorably, for the speech which Phormion used against Apollodorus was
also of his making; he, as it were, having simply furnished two
adversaries out of the same shop with weapons to wound one another. Of
his orations addressed to the public assemblies, that against Androtion,
and those against Timocrates and Aristocrates, were written for others,
before he had come forward himself as a politician. They were composed,
it seems, when he was but seven or eight and twenty years old. That
against Aristogiton, and that for the Immunities, he spoke himself, at
the request, as he says, of Ctesippus, the son of Chabrias, but, as some
say, out of courtship to the young man’s mother. Though, in fact, he did
not marry her, for his wife was a woman of Samos, as Demetrius, the
Magnesian, writes, in his book on Persons of the same Name. It is not
certain whether his oration against Aeschines, for Misconduct as
Ambassador, was ever spoken; although Idomeneus says that Aeschines
wanted only thirty voices to condemn him. But this seems not to be
correct, at least so far as may be conjectured from both their orations
concerning the Crown; for in these, neither of them speaks clearly or
directly of it, as a cause that ever came to trial. But let others
decide this controversy.
It was evident, even in time of peace, what course Demosthenes would
steer in the commonwealth; for whatever was done by the Macedonian, he
criticized and found fault with, and upon all occasions was stirring up
the people of Athens, and inflaming them against him. Therefore, in the
court of Philip, no man was so much talked of, or of so great account as
he; and when he came thither, one of the ten ambassadors who were sent
into Macedonia, though all had audience given them, yet his speech was
answered with most care and exactness. But in other respects, Philip
entertained him not so honorably as the rest, neither did he show him
the same kindness and civility with which he applied himself to the
party of Aeschines and Philocrates. So that, when the others commended
Philip for his able speaking, his beautiful person, nay, and also for
his good companionship in drinking, Demosthenes could not refrain from
caviling at these praises; the first, he said, was a quality which might
well enough become a rhetorician, the second a woman, and the last was
only the property of a sponge; no one of them was the proper
commendation of a prince.
But when things came at last to war, Philip on the one side being not
able to live in peace, and the Athenians, on the other side, being
stirred up by Demosthenes, the first action he put them upon was the
reducing of Euboea, which, by the treachery of the tyrants, was brought
under subjection to Philip. And on his proposition, the decree was
voted, and they crossed over thither and chased the Macedonians out of
the island. The next, was the relief of the Byzantines and Perinthians,
whom the Macedonians at that time were attacking. He persuaded the
people to lay aside their enmity against these cities, to forget the
offenses committed by them in the Confederate War, and to send them such
succors as eventually saved and secured them. Not long after, he
undertook an embassy through the States of Greece, which he solicited
and so far incensed against Philip, that, a few only excepted, he
brought them all into a general league. So that, besides the forces
composed of the citizens themselves, there was an army consisting of
fifteen thousand foot and two thousand horse, and the money to pay these
strangers was levied and brought in with great cheerfulness. On which
occasion it was, says Theophrastus, on the allies requesting that their
contributions for the war might be ascertained and stated, Crobylus, the
orator, made use of the saying, “War can’t be fed at so much a day.” Now
was all Greece up in arms, and in great expectation what would be the
event. The Euboeans, the Achaeans, the Corinthians, the Megarians, the
Leucadians, and Corcyraeans, their people and their cities, were all
joined together in a league. But the hardest task was yet behind, left
for Demosthenes, to draw the Thebans into this confederacy with the
rest. Their country bordered next upon Attica, they had great forces for
the war, and at that time they were accounted the best soldiers of all
Greece, but it was no easy matter to make them break with Philip, who,
by many good offices, had so lately obliged them in the Phocian war;
especially considering how the subjects of dispute and variance between
the two cities were continually renewed and exasperated by petty
quarrels, arising out of the proximity of their frontiers.
But after Philip, being now grown high and puffed up with his good
success at Amphissa, on a sudden surprised Elatea and possessed himself
of Phocis, and the Athenians were in a great consternation, none durst
venture to rise up to speak, no one knew what to say, all were at a
loss, and the whole assembly in silence and perplexity, in this
extremity of affairs, Demosthenes was the only man who appeared, his
counsel to them being alliance with the Thebans. And having in other
ways encouraged the people, and, as his manner was, raised their spirits
up with hopes, he, with some others, was sent ambassador to Thebes. To
oppose him, as Marsyas says, Philip also sent thither his envoys,
Amyntas and Clearellus, two Macedonians, besides Daochus, a Thessalian,
and Thrasydaeus. Now the Thebans, in their consultations, were well
enough aware what suited best with their own interest, but everyone had
before his eyes the terrors of war, and their losses in the Phocian
troubles were still recent: but such was the force and power of the
orator, fanning up, as Theopompus says, their courage, and firing their
emulation, that casting away every thought of prudence, fear, or
obligation, in a sort of divine possession, they chose the path of
honor, to which his words invited them. And this success, thus
accomplished by an orator, was thought to be so glorious and of such
consequence, that Philip immediately sent heralds to treat and petition
for a peace: all Greece was aroused, and up in arms to help. And the
commanders-in-chief, not only of Attica, but of Boeotia, applied
themselves to Demosthenes, and observed his directions. He managed all
the assemblies of the Thebans, no less than those of the Athenians; he
was beloved both by the one and by the other, and exercised the same
supreme authority with both; and that not by unfair means, or without
just cause, as Theopompus professes, but indeed it was no more than was
due to his merit.
But there was, it should seem, some divinely-ordered fortune,
commissioned, in the revolution of things, to put a period at this time
to the liberty of Greece, which opposed and thwarted all their actions,
and by many signs foretold what should happen. Such were the sad
predictions uttered by the Pythian priestess, and this old oracle cited
out of the Sibyl’s verses, —
The battle on Thermodon that shall be
Safe at a distance I desire to see,
Far, like an eagle, watching in the air.
Conquered shall weep, and conqueror perish there.
This Thermodon, they say, is a little rivulet here in our country in
Chaeronea, running into the Cephisus. But we know of none that is so
called at the present time; and can only conjecture that the streamlet
which is now called Haemon, and runs by the Temple of Hercules, where
the Grecians were encamped, might perhaps in those days be called
Thermodon, and after the fight, being filled with blood and dead bodies,
upon this occasion, as we guess, might change its old name for that
which it now bears. Yet Duris says that this Thermodon was no river, but
that some of the soldiers, as they were pitching their tents and digging
trenches about them, found a small stone statue, which, by the
inscription, appeared to be the figure of Thermodon, carrying a wounded
Amazon in his arms; and that there was another oracle current about it,
as follows: —
The battle on Thermodon that shall be,
Fail not, black raven, to attend and see;
The flesh of men shall there abound for thee.
In fine, it is not easy to determine what is the truth. But of
Demosthenes it is said, that he had such great confidence in the Grecian
forces, and was so excited by the sight of the courage and resolution of
so many brave men ready to engage the enemy, that he would by no means
endure they should give any heed to oracles, or hearken to prophecies,
but gave out that he suspected even the prophetess herself, as if she
had been tampered with to speak in favor of Philip. The Thebans he put
in mind of Epaminondas, the Athenians, of Pericles, who always took
their own measures and governed their actions by reason, looking upon
things of this kind as mere pretexts for cowardice. Thus far, therefore,
Demosthenes acquitted himself like a brave man. But in the fight he did
nothing honorable, nor was his performance answerable to his speeches.
For he fled, deserting his place disgracefully, and throwing away his
arms, not ashamed, as Pytheas observed, to belie the inscription written
on his shield, in letters of gold, “With good fortune.”
In the meantime Philip, in the first moment of victory, was so
transported with joy, that he grew extravagant, and going out, after he
had drunk largely, to visit the dead bodies, he chanted the first words
of the decree that had been passed on the motion of Demosthenes,
The motion of Demosthenes, Demosthenes’s son,
dividing it metrically into feet, and marking the beats.
But when he came to himself, and had well considered the danger he
was lately under, he could not forbear from shuddering at the wonderful
ability and power of an orator who had made him hazard his life and
empire on the issue of a few brief hours. The fame of it also reached
even to the court of Persia, and the king sent letters to his
lieutenants, commanding them to supply Demosthenes with money, and to
pay every attention to him, as the only man of all the Grecians who was
able to give Philip occupation and find employment for his forces near
home, in the troubles of Greece. This afterwards came to the knowledge
of Alexander, by certain letters of Demosthenes which he found at
Sardis, and by other papers of the Persian officers, stating the large
sums which had been given him.
At this time, however, upon the ill success which now happened to the
Grecians, those of the contrary faction in the commonwealth fell foul
upon Demosthenes, and took the opportunity to frame several informations
and indictments against him. But the people not only acquitted him of
these accusations, but continued towards him their former respect, and
still invited him, as a man that meant well, to take a part in public
affairs. Insomuch that when the bones of those who had been slain at
Chaeronea were brought home to be solemnly interred, Demosthenes was the
man they chose to make the funeral oration. They did not show, under the
misfortunes which befell them, a base or ignoble mind, as Theopompus
writes in his exaggerated style, but, on the contrary, by the honor and
respect paid to their counselor, they made it appear that they were
noway dissatisfied with the counsels he had given them. The speech,
therefore, was spoken by Demosthenes. But the subsequent decrees he
would not allow to be passed in his own name, but made use of those of
his friends, one after another, looking upon his own as unfortunate and
inauspicious; till at length he took courage again after the death of
Philip, who did not long outlive his victory at Chaeronea. And this, it
seems, was that which was foretold in the last verse of the oracle,
Conquered shall weep, and conqueror perish there.
Demosthenes had secret intelligence of the death of Philip, and
laying hold of this opportunity to prepossess the people with courage
and better hopes for the future, he came into the assembly with a
cheerful countenance, pretending to have had a dream that presaged some
great good fortune for Athens; and, not long after, arrived the
messengers who brought the news of Philip’s death. No sooner had the
people received it but immediately they offered sacrifice to the gods,
and decreed that Pausanias should be presented with a crown. Demosthenes
appeared publicly in a rich dress, with a chaplet on his head, though it
were but the seventh day since the death of his daughter, as is said by
Aeschines, who upbraids him upon this account, and rails at him as one
void of natural affection towards his children. Whereas, indeed, he
rather betrays himself to be of a poor, low spirit, and effeminate mind,
if he really means to make wailings and lamentation the only signs of a
gentle and affectionate nature, and to condemn those who bear such
accidents with more temper and less passion. For my own part, I cannot
say that the behavior of the Athenians on this occasion was wise or
honorable, to crown themselves with garlands and to sacrifice to the
Gods for the death of a Prince who, in the midst of his success and
victories, when they were a conquered people, had used them with so much
clemency and humanity. For besides provoking fortune, it was a base
thing, and unworthy in itself, to make him a citizen of Athens, and pay
him honors while he lived, and yet as soon as he fell by another’s hand,
to set no bounds to their jollity, to insult over him dead, and to sing
triumphant songs of victory, as if by their own valor they had
vanquished him. I must at the same time commend the behavior of
Demosthenes, who, leaving tears and lamentations and domestic sorrows to
the women, made it his business to attend to the interests of the
commonwealth. And I think it the duty of him who would be accounted to
have a soul truly valiant, and fit for government, that, standing always
firm to the common good, and letting private griefs and troubles find
their compensation in public blessings, he should maintain the dignity
of his character and station, much more than actors who represent the
persons of kings and tyrants, who, we see, when they either laugh or
weep on the stage, follow, not their own private inclinations, but the
course consistent with the subject and with their position. And if,
moreover, when our neighbor is in misfortune, it is not our duty to
forbear offering any consolation, but rather to say whatever may tend to
cheer him, and to invite his attention to any agreeable objects, just as
we tell people who are troubled with sore eyes, to withdraw their sight
from bright and offensive colors to green, and those of a softer
mixture, from whence can a man seek, in his own case, better arguments
of consolation for afflictions in his family, than from the prosperity
of his country, by making public and domestic chances count, so to say,
together, and the better fortune of the state obscure and conceal the
less happy circumstances of the individual. I have been induced to say
so much, because I have known many readers melted by Aeschines’s
language into a soft and unmanly tenderness.
But now to return to my narrative. The cities of Greece were
inspirited once more by the efforts of Demosthenes to form a league
together. The Thebans, whom he had provided with arms, set upon their
garrison, and slew many of them; the Athenians made preparations to join
their forces with them; Demosthenes ruled supreme in the popular
assembly, and wrote letters to the Persian officers who commanded under
the king in Asia, inciting them to make war upon the Macedonian, calling
him child and simpleton. But as soon as Alexander had settled matters in
his own country, and came in person with his army into Boeotia, down
fell the courage of the Athenians, and Demosthenes was hushed; the
Thebans, deserted by them, fought by themselves, and lost their city.
After which, the people of Athens, all in distress and great perplexity,
resolved to send ambassadors to Alexander, and amongst others, made
choice of Demosthenes for one; but his heart failing him for fear of the
king’s anger, he returned back from Cithaeron, and left the embassy. In
the meantime, Alexander sent to Athens, requiring ten of their orators
to be delivered up to him, as Idomeneus and Duris have reported, but as
the most and best historians say, he demanded these eight only:
Demosthenes, Polyeuctus, Ephialtes, Lycurgus, Moerocles, Demon,
Callisthenes, and Charidemus. It was upon this occasion that Demosthenes
related to them the fable in which the sheep are said to deliver up
their dogs to the wolves; himself and those who with him contended for
the people’s safety, being, in his comparison, the dogs that defended
the flock, and Alexander “the Macedonian arch wolf.” He further told
them, “As we see corn-masters sell their whole stock by a few grains of
wheat which they carry about with them in a dish, as a sample of the
rest, so you, by delivering up us, who are but a few, do at the same
time unawares surrender up yourselves all together with us;” so we find
it related in the history of Aristobulus, the Cassandrian. The Athenians
were deliberating, and at a loss what to do, when Demades, having agreed
with the persons whom Alexander had demanded, for five talents,
undertook to go ambassador, and to intercede with the king for them;
and, whether it was that he relied on his friendship and kindness, or
that he hoped to find him satiated, as a lion glutted with slaughter, he
certainly went, and prevailed with him both to pardon the men, and to be
reconciled to the city.
So he and his friends, when Alexander went away, were great men, and
Demosthenes was quite put aside. Yet when Agis, the Spartan, made his
insurrection, he also for a short time attempted a movement in his
favor; but he soon shrunk back again, as the Athenians would not take
any part in it, and, Agis being slain, the Lacedaemonians were
vanquished. During this time it was that the indictment against
Ctesiphon, concerning the Crown, was brought to trial. The action was
commenced a little before the battle in Chaeronea, when Chaerondas was
archon, but it was not proceeded with till about ten years after,
Aristophon being then archon. Never was any public cause more celebrated
than this, alike for the fame of the orators, and for the generous
courage of the judges, who, though at that time the accusers of
Demosthenes were in the height of power, and supported by all the favor
of the Macedonians, yet would not give judgment against him, but
acquitted him so honorably, that Aeschines did not obtain the fifth part
of their suffrages on his side, so that, immediately after, he left the
city, and spent the rest of his life in teaching rhetoric about the
island of Rhodes, and upon the continent in Ionia.
It was not long after that Harpalus fled from Alexander, and came to
Athens out of Asia; knowing himself guilty of many misdeeds into which
his love of luxury had led him, and fearing the king, who was now grown
terrible even to his best friends. Yet this man had no sooner addressed
himself to the people, and delivered up his goods, his ships, and
himself to their disposal, but the other orators of the town had their
eyes quickly fixed upon his money, and came in to his assistance,
persuading the Athenians to receive and protect their suppliant.
Demosthenes at first gave advice to chase him out of the country, and to
beware lest they involved their city in a war upon an unnecessary and
unjust occasion. But some few days after, as they were taking an account
of the treasure, Harpalus, perceiving how much he was pleased with a cup
of Persian manufacture, and how curiously he surveyed the sculpture and
fashion of it, desired him to poise it in his hand, and consider the
weight of the gold. Demosthenes, being amazed to feel how heavy it was,
asked him what weight it came to. “To you,” said Harpalus, smiling, “it
shall come with twenty talents.” And presently after, when night drew
on, he sent him the cup with so many talents. Harpalus, it seems, was a
person of singular skill to discern a man’s covetousness by the air of
his countenance, and the look and movements of his eyes. For Demosthenes
could not resist the temptation, but admitting the present, like an
armed garrison, into the citadel of his house, he surrendered himself up
to the interest of Harpalus. The next day, he came into the assembly
with his neck swathed about with wool and rollers, and when they called
on him to rise up and speak, he made signs as if he had lost his voice.
But the wits, turning the matter to ridicule, said that certainly the
orator had been seized that night with no other than a silver quinsy.
And soon after, the people, becoming aware of the bribery, grew angry,
and would not suffer him to speak, or make any apology for himself, but
ran him down with noise; and one man stood up, and cried out, “What, ye
men of Athens, will you not hear the cup-bearer?” So at length they
banished Harpalus out of the city; and fearing lest they should be
called to account for the treasure which the orators had purloined, they
made a strict inquiry, going from house to house; only Callicles, the
son of Arrhenidas, who was newly married, they would not suffer to be
searched, out of respect, as Theopompus writes, to the bride, who was
within.
Demosthenes resisted the inquisition, and proposed a decree to refer
the business to the court of Areopagus, and to punish those whom that
court should find guilty. But being himself one of the first whom the
court condemned, when he came to the bar, he was fined fifty talents,
and committed to prison; where, out of shame of the crime for which he
was condemned, and through the weakness of his body, growing incapable
of supporting the confinement, he made his escape, by the carelessness
of some and by the connivance of others of the citizens. We are told, at
least, that he had not fled far from the city, when, finding that he was
pursued by some of those who had been his adversaries, he endeavored to
hide himself. But when they called him by his name, and coming up nearer
to him, desired he would accept from them some money which they had
brought from home as a provision for his journey, and to that purpose
only had followed him, when they entreated him to take courage, and to
bear up against his misfortune, he burst out into much greater
lamentation, saying, “But how is it possible to support myself under so
heavy an affliction, since I leave a city in which I have such enemies,
as in any other it is not easy to find friends.” He did not show much
fortitude in his banishment, spending his time for the most part in
Aegina and Troezen, and, with tears in his eyes, looking towards the
country of Attica. And there remain upon record some sayings of his,
little resembling those sentiments of generosity and bravery which he
used to express when he had the management of the commonwealth. For, as
he was departing out of the city, it is reported, he lifted up his hands
towards the Acropolis, and said, “O Lady Minerva, how is it that thou
takest delight in three such fierce untractable beast, the owl, the
snake, and the people?” The young men that came to visit and converse
with him, he deterred from meddling with state affairs, telling them,
that if at first two ways had been proposed to him, the one leading to
the speaker’s stand and the assembly, the other going direct to
destruction, and he could have foreseen the many evils which attend
those who deal in public business, such as fears, envies, calumnies, and
contentions, he would certainly have taken that which led straight on to
his death.
But now happened the death of Alexander, while Demosthenes was in
this banishment which we have been speaking of. And the Grecians were
once again up in arms, encouraged by the brave attempts of Leosthenes,
who was then drawing a circumvallation about Antipater, whom he held
close besieged in Lamia. Pytheas, therefore, the orator, and Callimedon,
called the Crab, fled from Athens, and taking sides with Antipater, went
about with his friends and ambassadors to keep the Grecians from
revolting and taking part with the Athenians. But, on the other side,
Demosthenes, associating himself with the ambassadors that came from
Athens, used his utmost endeavors and gave them his best assistance in
persuading the cities to fall unanimously upon the Macedonians, and to
drive them out of Greece. Phylarchus says that in Arcadia there happened
a rencounter between Pytheas and Demosthenes, which came at last to
downright railing, while the one pleaded for the Macedonians, and the
other for the Grecians. Pytheas said, that as we always suppose there is
some disease in the family to which they bring asses’ milk, so wherever
there comes an embassy from Athens, that city must needs be indisposed.
And Demosthenes answered him, retorting the comparison: “Asses’ milk is
brought to restore health, and the Athenians come for the safety and
recovery of the sick.” With this conduct the people of Athens were so
well pleased, that they decreed the recall of Demosthenes from
banishment. The decree was brought in by Demon the Paeanian, cousin to
Demosthenes. So they sent him a ship to Aegina, and he landed at the
port of Piraeus, where he was met and joyfully received by all the
citizens, not so much as an Archon or a priest staying behind. And
Demetrius, the Magnesian, says, that he lifted up his hands towards
heaven, and blessed this day of his happy return, as far more honorable
than that of Alcibiades; since he was recalled by his countrymen, not
through any force or constraint put upon them, but by their own
good-will and free inclinations. There remained only his pecuniary fine,
which, according to law, could not be remitted by the people. But they
found out a way to elude the law. It was a custom with them to allow a
certain quantity of silver to those who were to furnish and adorn the
altar for the sacrifice of Jupiter Soter. This office, for that turn,
they bestowed on Demosthenes, and for the performance of it ordered him
fifty talents, the very sum in which he was condemned.
Yet it was no long time that he enjoyed his country after his return,
the attempts of the Greeks being soon all utterly defeated. For the
battle at Cranon happened in Metagitnion, in Boedromion the garrison
entered into Munychia, and in the Pyanepsion following died Demosthenes
after this manner.
Upon the report that Antipater and Craterus were coming to Athens,
Demosthenes with his party took their opportunity to escape privily out
of the city; but sentence of death was, upon the motion of Demades,
passed upon them by the people. They dispersed themselves, flying some
to one place, some to another; and Antipater sent about his soldiers
into all quarters to apprehend them. Archias was their captain, and was
thence called the exile-hunter. He was a Thurian born, and is reported
to have been an actor of tragedies, and they say that Polus, of Aegina,
the best actor of his time, was his scholar; but Hermippus reckons
Archias among the disciples of Lacritus, the orator, and Demetrius says,
he spent some time with Anaximenes. This Archias finding Hyperides the
orator, Aristonicus of Marathon, and Himeraeus, the brother of Demetrius
the Phalerian, in Aegina, took them by force out of the temple of
Aeacus, whither they were fled for safety, and sent them to Antipater,
then at Cleonae, where they were all put to death; and
Hyperides, they say, had his tongue cut out.
Demosthenes, he heard, had taken sanctuary at the temple of Neptune
in Calauria, and, crossing over thither in some light vessels, as soon
as he had landed himself, and the Thracian spear-men that came with him,
he endeavored to persuade Demosthenes to accompany him to Antipater, as
if he should meet with no hard usage from him. But Demosthenes, in his
sleep the night before, had a strange dream. It seemed to him that he
was acting a tragedy, and contended with Archias for the victory; and
though he acquitted himself well, and gave good satisfaction to the
spectators, yet for want of better furniture and provision for the
stage, he lost the day. And so, while Archias was discoursing to him
with many expressions of kindness, he sat still in the same posture, and
looking up steadfastly upon him, “O Archias,” said he, “I am as little
affected by your promises now as I used formerly to be by your acting.”
Archias at this beginning to grow angry and to threaten him, “Now,” said
Demosthenes, “you speak like the genuine Macedonian oracle; before you
were but acting a part. Therefore forbear only a little, while I write a
word or two home to my family.” Having thus spoken, he withdrew into the
temple, and taking a scroll, as if he meant to write, he put the reed
into his mouth, and biting it, as he was wont to do when he was
thoughtful or writing, he held it there for some time. Then he bowed
down his head and covered it. The soldiers that stood at the door,
supposing all this to proceed from want of courage and fear of death, in
derision called him effeminate, and faint-hearted, and coward. And
Archias, drawing near, desired him to rise up, and repeating the same
kind things he had spoken before, he once more promised him to make his
peace with Antipater. But Demosthenes, perceiving that now the poison
had pierced and seized his vitals, uncovered his head, and fixing his
eyes upon Archias, “Now,” said he, “as soon as you please you may
commence the part of Creon in the tragedy, and cast out this body of
mine unburied. But, O gracious Neptune, I, for my part, while I am yet
alive, arise up and depart out of this sacred place; though Antipater
and the Macedonians have not left so much as thy temple unpolluted.”
After he had thus spoken and desired to be held up, because already he
began to tremble and stagger, as he was going forward, and passing by
the altar, he fell down, and with a groan gave up the ghost.
Ariston says that he took the poison out of a reed, as we have shown
before. But Pappus, a certain historian whose history was recovered by
Hermippus, says, that as he fell near the altar, there was found in his
scroll this beginning only of a letter, and nothing more, “Demosthenes
to Antipater.” And that when his sudden death was much wondered at, the
Thracians who guarded the doors reported that he took the poison into
his hand out of a rag, and put it in his mouth, and that they imagined
it had been gold which he swallowed; but the maid that served him, being
examined by the followers of Archias, affirmed that he had worn it in a
bracelet for a long time, as an amulet. And Eratosthenes also says that
he kept the poison in a hollow ring, and that that ring was the bracelet
which he wore about his arm. There are various other statements made by
the many authors who have related the story, but there is no need to
enter into their discrepancies; yet I must not omit what is said by
Demochares, the relation of Demosthenes, who is of opinion, it was not
by the help of poison that he met with so sudden and so easy a death,
but that by the singular favor and providence of the gods he was thus
rescued from the cruelty of the Macedonians. He died on the sixteenth of
Pyanepsion, the most sad and solemn day of the Thesmophoria, which the
women observe by fasting in the temple of the goddess.
Soon after his death, the people of Athens bestowed on him such
honors as he had deserved. They erected his statue of brass; they
decreed that the eldest of his family should be maintained in the
Prytaneum; and on the base of his statue was engraven the famous
inscription, —
Had you for Greece been strong, as wise you were,
The Macedonian had not conquered her.
For it is simply ridiculous to say, as some have related, that
Demosthenes made these verses himself in Calauria, as he was about to
take the poison.
A little before we went to Athens, the following incident was said to
have happened. A soldier, being summoned to appear before his superior
officer, and answer to an accusation brought against him, put that
little gold which he had into the hands of Demosthenes’s statue. The
fingers of this statue were folded one within another, and near it grew
a small plane-tree, from which many leaves, either accidentally blown
thither by the wind, or placed so on purpose by the man himself falling
together, and lying round about the gold, concealed it for a long time.
In the end, the soldier returned, and found his treasure entire, and the
fame of this incident was spread abroad. And many ingenious persons of
the city competed with each other, on this occasion, to vindicate the
integrity of Demosthenes, in several epigrams which they made on the
subject.
As for Demades, he did not long enjoy the new honors he now came in
for, divine vengeance for the death of Demosthenes pursuing him into
Macedonia, where he was justly put to death by those whom he had basely
flattered. They were weary of him before, but at this time the guilt he
lay under was manifest and undeniable. For some of his letters were
intercepted, in which he had encouraged Perdiccas to fall upon
Macedonia, and to save the Grecians, who, he said, hung only by an old
rotten thread, meaning Antipater. Of this he was accused by Dinarchus,
the Corinthian, and Cassander was so enraged, that he first slew his son
in his bosom, and then gave orders to execute him; who might-now at
last, by his own extreme misfortunes, learn the lesson, that traitors,
who make sale of their country, sell themselves first; a truth which
Demosthenes had often foretold him, and he would never believe. Thus,
Sosius, you have the life of Demosthenes, from such accounts as we have
either read or heard concerning him.
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Cicero
It is generally said, that Helvia, the mother of Cicero, was both
well born and lived a fair life; but of his father nothing is reported
but in extremes. For whilst some would have him the son of a fuller, and
educated in that trade, others carry back the origin of his family to
Tullus Attius, an illustrious king of the Volscians, who waged war not
without honor against the Romans. However, he who first of that house
was surnamed Cicero seems to have been a person worthy to be remembered;
since those who succeeded him not only did not reject, but were fond of
that name, though vulgarly made a matter of reproach. For the Latins
call a vetch Cicer, and a nick or dent at the tip of his nose, which
resembled the opening in a vetch, gave him the surname of Cicero.
Cicero, whose story I am writing, is said to have replied with spirit
to some of his friends, who recommended him to lay aside or change the
name when he first stood for office and engaged in politics, that he
would make it his endeavor to render the name of Cicero more glorious
than that of the Scauri and Catuli. And when he was quaestor in Sicily,
and was making an offering of silver plate to the gods, and had
inscribed his two names, Marcus and Tullius, instead of the third he
jestingly told the artificer to engrave the figure of a vetch by them.
Thus much is told us about his name.
Of his birth it is reported, that his mother was delivered without
pain or labor, on the third of the new Calends, the same day on which
now the magistrates of Rome pray and sacrifice for the emperor. It is
said, also, that a vision appeared to his nurse, and foretold the child
she then suckled should afterwards become a great benefit to the Roman
States. To such presages, which might in general be thought mere fancies
and idle talk, he himself erelong gave the credit of true prophecies.
For as soon as he was of an age to begin to have lessons, he became so
distinguished for his talent, and got such a name and reputation amongst
the boys, that their fathers would often visit the school, that they
might see young Cicero, and might be able to say that they themselves
had witnessed the quickness and readiness in learning for which he was
renowned. And the more rude among them used to be angry with their
children, to see them, as they walked together, receiving Cicero with
respect into the middle place. And being, as Plato would have, the
scholar-like and philosophical temper, eager for every kind of learning,
and indisposed to no description of knowledge or instruction, he showed,
however, a more peculiar propensity to poetry; and there is a poem now
extant, made by him when a boy, in tetrameter verse, called Pontius
Glaucus. And afterwards, when he applied himself more curiously to these
accomplishments, he had the name of being not only the best orator, but
also the best poet of Rome. And the glory of his rhetoric still remains,
notwithstanding the many new modes in speaking since his time; but his
verses are forgotten and out of all repute, so many ingenious poets
having followed him.
Leaving his juvenile studies, he became an auditor of Philo the
Academic, whom the Romans, above all the other scholars of Clitomachus,
admired for his eloquence and loved for his character. He also sought
the company of the Mucii, who were eminent statesmen and leaders in the
senate, and acquired from them a knowledge of the laws. For some short
time he served in arms under Sylla, in the Marsian war. But perceiving
the commonwealth running into factions, and from faction all things
tending to an absolute monarchy, he betook himself to a retired and
contemplative life, and conversing with the learned Greeks, devoted
himself to study, till Sylla had obtained the government, and the
commonwealth was in some kind of settlement.
At this time, Chrysogonus, Sylla’s emancipated slave, having laid an
information about an estate belonging to one who was said to have been
put to death by proscription, had bought it himself for two thousand
drachmas. And when Roscius, the son and heir of the dead, complained,
and demonstrated the estate to be worth two hundred and fifty talents,
Sylla took it angrily to have his actions questioned, and preferred a
process against Roscius for the murder of his father, Chrysogonus
managing the evidence. None of the advocates durst assist him, but
fearing the cruelty of Sylla, avoided the cause. The young man, being
thus deserted, came for refuge to Cicero. Cicero’s friends encouraged
him, saying he was not likely ever to have a fairer and more honorable
introduction to public life; he therefore undertook the defense, carried
the cause, and got much renown for it.
But fearing Sylla, he traveled into Greece, and gave it out that he
did so for the benefit of his health. And indeed he was lean and meager,
and had such a weakness in his stomach, that he could take nothing but a
spare and thin diet, and that not till late in the evening. His voice
was loud and good, but so harsh and unmanaged that in vehemence and heat
of speaking he always raised it to so high a tone, that there seemed to
be reason to fear about his health.
When he came to Athens, he was a hearer of Antiochus of Ascalon, with
whose fluency and elegance of diction he was much taken, although he did
not approve of his innovations in doctrine. For Antiochus had now fallen
off from the New Academy, as they call it, and forsaken the sect of
Carneades, whether that he was moved by the argument of manifestness and
the senses, or, as some say, had been led by feelings of rivalry and
opposition to the followers of Clitomachus and Philo to change his
opinions, and in most things to embrace the doctrine of the Stoics. But
Cicero rather affected and adhered to the doctrines of the New Academy;
and purposed with himself, if he should be disappointed of any
employment in the commonwealth, to retire hither from pleading and
political affairs, and to pass his life with quiet in the study of
philosophy.
But after he had received the news of Sylla’s death, and his body,
strengthened again by exercise, was come to a vigorous habit, his voice
managed and rendered sweet and full to the ear and pretty well brought
into keeping with his general constitution, his friends at Rome
earnestly soliciting him by letters, and Antiochus also urging him to
return to public affairs, he again prepared for use his orator’s
instrument of rhetoric, and summoned into action his political
faculties, diligently exercising himself in declamations, and attending
the most celebrated rhetoricians of the time. He sailed from Athens for
Asia and Rhodes. Amongst the Asian masters, he conversed with Xenocles
of Adramyttium, Dionysius of Magnesia, and Menippus of Caria; at Rhodes,
he studied oratory with Apollonius, the son of Molon, and philosophy
with Posidonius. Apollonius, we are told, not understanding Latin,
requested Cicero to declaim in Greek. He complied willingly, thinking
that his faults would thus be better pointed out to him. And after he
finished, all his other hearers were astonished, and contended who
should praise him most, but Apollonius, who had shown no signs of
excitement whilst he was hearing him, so also now, when it was over, sat
musing for some considerable time, without any remark. And when Cicero
was discomposed at this, he said, “You have my praise and admiration,
Cicero, and Greece my pity and commiseration, since those arts and that
eloquence which are the only glories that remain to her, will now be
transferred by you to Rome.”
And now when Cicero, full of expectation, was again bent upon
political affairs, a certain oracle blunted the edge of his inclination;
for consulting the god of Delphi how he should attain most glory, the
Pythoness answered, by making his own genius and not the opinion of the
people the guide of his life; and therefore at first he passed his time
in Rome cautiously, and was very backward in pretending to public
offices, so that he was at that time in little esteem, and had got the
names, so readily given by low and ignorant people in Rome, of Greek and
Scholar. But when his own desire of fame and the eagerness of his father
and relations had made him take in earnest to pleading, he made no slow
or gentle advance to the first place, but shone out in full luster at
once, and far surpassed all the advocates of the bar. At first, it is
said, he, as well as Demosthenes, was defective in his delivery, and on
that account paid much attention to the instructions, sometimes of
Roscius the comedian, and sometimes of Aesop the tragedian. They tell of
this Aesop, that whilst he was representing on the theater Atreus
deliberating the revenge of Thyestes, he was so transported beyond
himself in the heat of action, that he struck with his scepter one of
the servants, who was running across the stage, so violently, that he
laid him dead upon the place. And such afterwards was Cicero’s delivery,
that it did not a little contribute to render his eloquence persuasive.
He used to ridicule loud speakers, saying that they shouted because they
could not speak, like lame men who get on horseback because they cannot
walk. And his readiness and address in sarcasm, and generally in witty
sayings, was thought to suit a pleader very well, and to be highly
attractive, but his using it to excess offended many, and gave him the
repute of ill nature.
He was appointed quaestor in a great scarcity of corn, and had Sicily
for his province, where, though at first he displeased many, by
compelling them to send in their provisions to Rome, yet after they had
had experience of his care, justice, and clemency, they honored him more
than ever they did any of their governors before. It happened, also,
that some young Romans of good and noble families, charged with neglect
of discipline and misconduct in military service, were brought before
the praetor in Sicily. Cicero undertook their defense, which he
conducted admirably, and got them acquitted. So returning to Rome with a
great opinion of himself for these things, a ludicrous incident befell
him, as he tells us himself. Meeting an eminent citizen in Campania,
whom he accounted his friend, he asked him what the Romans said and
thought of his actions, as if the whole city had been filled with the
glory of what he had done. His friend asked him in reply, “Where is it
you have been, Cicero?” This for the time utterly mortified and cast him
down, to perceive that the report of his actions had sunk into the city
of Rome as into an immense ocean, without any visible effect or result
in reputation. And afterwards considering with himself that the glory he
contended for was an infinite thing, and that there was no fixed end nor
measure in its pursuit, he abated much of his ambitious thoughts.
Nevertheless, he was always excessively pleased with his own praise, and
continued to the very last to be passionately fond of glory; which often
interfered with the prosecution of his wisest resolutions.
On beginning to apply himself more resolutely to public business, he
remarked it as an unreasonable and absurd thing that artificers, using
vessels and instruments inanimate, should know the name, place, and use
of every one of them, and yet the statesman, whose instruments for
carrying out public measures are men, should be negligent and careless
in the knowledge of persons. And so he not only acquainted himself with
the names, but also knew the particular place where every one of the
more eminent citizens dwelt, what lands he possessed, the friends he
made use of, and those that were of his neighborhood, and when he
traveled on any road in Italy, he could readily name and show the
estates and seats of his friends and acquaintance. Having so small an
estate, though a sufficient competency for his own expenses, it was much
wondered at that he took neither fees nor gifts from his clients, and
more especially, that he did not do so when he undertook the prosecution
of Verres. This Verres, who had been praetor of Sicily, and stood
charged by the Sicilians of many evil practices during his government
there, Cicero succeeded in getting condemned, not by speaking, but in a
manner by holding his tongue. For the praetors, favoring Verres, had
deferred the trial by several adjournments to the last day, in which it
was evident there could not be sufficient time for the advocates to be
heard, and the cause brought to an issue. Cicero, therefore, came
forward, and said there was no need of speeches; and after producing and
examining witnesses, he required the judges to proceed to sentence.
However, many witty sayings are on record, as having been used by Cicero
on the occasion. When a man named Caecilius, one of the freed slaves,
who was said to be given to Jewish practices, would have put by the
Sicilians, and undertaken the prosecution of Verres himself, Cicero
asked, “What has a Jew to do with swine?” verres being the Roman word
for a boar. And when Verres began to reproach Cicero with effeminate
living, “You ought,” replied he, “to use this language at home, to your
sons;” Verres having a son who had fallen into disgraceful courses.
Hortensius the orator, not daring directly to undertake the defense of
Verres, was yet persuaded to appear for him at the laying on of the
fine, and received an ivory sphinx for his reward; and when Cicero, in
some passage of his speech, obliquely reflected on him, and Hortensius
told him he was not skillful in solving riddles, “No,” said Cicero, “and
yet you have the Sphinx in your house!”
Verres was thus convicted; though Cicero, who set the fine at
seventy-five myriads, lay under the suspicion of being corrupted by
bribery to lessen the sum. But the Sicilians, in testimony of their
gratitude, came and brought him all sorts of presents from the island,
when he was aedile; of which he made no private profit himself, but used
their generosity only to reduce the public price of provisions.
He had a very pleasant seat at Arpi, he had also a farm near Naples,
and another about Pompeii, but neither of any great value. The portion
of his wife, Terentia, amounted to ten myriads, and he had a bequest
valued at nine myriads of denarii; upon these he lived in a liberal but
temperate style, with the learned Greeks and Romans that were his
familiars. He rarely, if at any time, sat down to meat till sunset, and
that not so much on account of business, as for his health and the
weakness of his stomach. He was otherwise in the care of his body nice
and delicate, appointing himself, for example, a set number of walks and
rubbings. And after this manner managing the habit of his body, he
brought it in time to be healthful, and capable of supporting many great
fatigues and trials. His father’s house he made over to his brother,
living himself near the Palatine hill, that he might not give the
trouble of long journeys to those that made suit to him. And, indeed,
there were not fewer daily appearing at his door, to do their court to
him, than there were that came to Crassus for his riches, or to Pompey
for his power amongst the soldiers, these being at that time the two men
of the greatest repute and influence in Rome. Nay, even Pompey himself
used to pay court to Cicero, and Cicero’s public actions did much to
establish Pompey’s authority and reputation in the state.
Numerous distinguished competitors stood with him for the praetor’s
office; but he was chosen before them all, and managed the decision of
causes with justice and integrity. It is related that Licinius Macer, a
man himself of great power in the city, and supported also by the
assistance of Crassus, was accused before him of extortion, and that, in
confidence on his own interest and the diligence of his friends, whilst
the judges were debating about the sentence, he went to his house, where
hastily trimming his hair and putting on a clean gown, as already
acquitted, he was setting off again to go to the Forum; but at his hall
door meeting Crassus, who told him that he was condemned by all the
votes, he went in again, threw himself upon his bed, and died
immediately. This verdict was considered very creditable to Cicero, as
showing his careful management of the courts of justice. On another
occasion, Vatinius, a man of rude manners and often insolent in court to
the magistrates, who had large swellings on his neck, came before his
tribunal and made some request, and on Cicero’s desiring further time to
consider it, told him that he himself would have made no question about
it, had he been praetor. Cicero, turning quickly upon him, answered,
“But I, you see, have not the neck that you have.”
When there were but two or three days remaining in his office,
Manilius was brought before him, and charged with peculation. Manilius
had the good opinion and favor of the common people, and was thought to
be prosecuted only for Pompey’s sake, whose particular friend he was.
And therefore, when he asked a space of time before his trial, and
Cicero allowed him but one day, and that the next only, the common
people grew highly offended, because it had been the custom of the
praetors to allow ten days at least to the accused: and the tribunes of
the people having called him before the people, and accused him, he,
desiring to be heard, said, that as he had always treated the accused
with equity and humanity, as far as the law allowed, so he thought it
hard to deny the same to Manilius, and that he had studiously appointed
that day of which alone, as praetor, he was master, and that it was not
the part of those that were desirous to help him, to cast the judgment
of his cause upon another praetor. These things being said made a
wonderful change in the people, and, commending him much for it, they
desired that he himself would undertake the defense of Manilius; which
he willingly consented to, and that principally for the sake of Pompey,
who was absent. And, accordingly, taking his place before the people
again, he delivered a bold invective upon the oligarchical party and on
those who were jealous of Pompey.
Yet he was preferred to the consulship no less by the nobles than the
common people, for the good of the city; and both parties jointly
assisted his promotion, upon the following reasons. The change of
government made by Sylla, which at first seemed a senseless one, by time
and usage had now come to be considered by the people no unsatisfactory
settlement. But there were some that endeavored to alter and subvert the
whole present state of affairs not from any good motives, but for their
own private gain; and Pompey being at this time employed in the wars
with the kings of Pontus and Armenia, there was no sufficient force at
Rome to suppress any attempts at a revolution. These people had for
their head a man of bold, daring, and restless character, Lucius
Catiline, who was accused, besides other great offenses, of deflowering
his virgin daughter, and killing his own brother; for which latter
crime, fearing to be prosecuted at law, he persuaded Sylla to set him
down, as though he were yet alive, amongst those that were to be put to
death by proscription. This man the profligate citizens choosing for
their captain, gave faith to one another, amongst other pledges, by
sacrificing a man and eating of his flesh; and a great part of the young
men of the city were corrupted by him, he providing for everyone
pleasures, drink, and women, and profusely supplying the expense of
these debauches. Etruria, moreover, had all been excited to revolt, as
well as a great part of Gaul within the Alps. But Rome itself was in the
most dangerous inclination to change, on account of the unequal
distribution of wealth and property, those of highest rank and greatest
spirit having impoverished themselves by shows, entertainments, ambition
of offices, and sumptuous buildings, and the riches of the city having
thus fallen into the hands of mean and low-born persons. So that there
wanted but a slight impetus to set all in motion, it being in the power
of every daring man to overturn a sickly commonwealth.
Catiline, however, being desirous of procuring a strong position to
carry out his designs, stood for the consulship, and had great hopes of
success, thinking he should be appointed, with Caius Antonius as his
colleague, who was a man fit to lead neither in a good cause nor in a
bad one, but might be a valuable accession to another’s power. These
things the greatest part of the good and honest citizens apprehending,
put Cicero upon standing for the consulship; whom the people readily
receiving, Catiline was put by, so that he and Caius Antonius were
chosen, although amongst the competitors he was the only man descended
from a father of the equestrian, and not of the senatorial order.
Though the designs of Catiline were not yet publicly known, yet
considerable preliminary troubles immediately followed upon Cicero’s
entrance upon the consulship. For, on the one side, those who were
disqualified by the laws of Sylla from holding any public offices, being
neither inconsiderable in power nor in number, came forward as
candidates and caressed the people for them; speaking many things truly
and justly against the tyranny of Sylla, only that they disturbed the
government at an improper and unseasonable time; on the other hand, the
tribunes of the people proposed laws to the same purpose, constituting a
commission of ten persons, with unlimited powers, in whom as supreme
governors should be vested the right of selling the public lands of all
Italy and Syria and Pompey’s new conquests, of judging and banishing
whom they pleased, of planting colonies, of taking moneys out of the
treasury, and of levying and paying what soldiers should be thought
needful. And several of the nobility favored this law, but especially
Caius Antonius, Cicero’s colleague, in hopes of being one of the ten.
But what gave the greatest fear to the nobles was, that he was thought
privy to the conspiracy of Catiline, and not to dislike it, because of
his great debts.
Cicero, endeavoring in the first place to provide a remedy against
this danger, procured a decree assigning to him the province of
Macedonia, he himself declining that of Gaul, which was offered to him.
And this piece of favor so completely won over Antonius, that he was
ready to second and respond to, like a hired player, whatever Cicero
said for the good of the country. And now, having made his colleague
thus tame and tractable, he could with greater courage attack the
conspirators. And, therefore, in the senate, making an oration against
the law of the ten commissioners, he so confounded those who proposed
it, that they had nothing to reply. And when they again endeavored, and,
having prepared things beforehand, had called the consuls before the
assembly of the people, Cicero, fearing nothing, went first out, and
commanded the senate to follow him, and not only succeeded in throwing
out the law, but so entirely overpowered the tribunes by his oratory,
that they abandoned all thought of their other projects.
For Cicero, it may be said, was the one man, above all others, who
made the Romans feel how great a charm eloquence lends to what is good,
and how invincible justice is, if it be well spoken; and that it is
necessary for him who would dexterously govern a commonwealth, in
action, always to prefer that which is honest before that which is
popular, and in speaking, to free the right and useful measure from
everything that may occasion offense. An incident occurred in the
theater, during his consulship, which showed what his speaking could do.
For whereas formerly the knights of Rome were mingled in the theater
with the common people, and took their places amongst them as it
happened, Marcus Otho, when he was praetor, was the first who
distinguished them from the other citizens, and appointed them a proper
seat, which they still enjoy as their special place in the theater. This
the common people took as an indignity done to them, and, therefore,
when Otho appeared in the theater, they hissed him; the knights, on the
contrary, received him with loud clapping. The people repeated and
increased their hissing; the knights continued their clapping. Upon
this, turning upon one another, they broke out into insulting words, so
that the theater was in great disorder. Cicero, being informed of it,
came himself to the theater, and summoning the people into the temple of
Bellona, he so effectually chid and chastised them for it, that, again
returning into the theater, they received Otho with loud applause,
contending with the knights who should give him the greatest
demonstrations of honor and respect.
The conspirators with Catiline, at first cowed and disheartened,
began presently to take courage again. And assembling themselves
together, they exhorted one another boldly to undertake the design
before Pompey’s return, who, as it was said, was now on his march with
his forces for Rome. But the old soldiers of Sylla were Catiline’s chief
stimulus to action. They had been disbanded all about Italy, but the
greatest number and the fiercest of them lay scattered among the cities
of Etruria, entertaining themselves with dreams of new plunder and
rapine amongst the hoarded riches of Italy. These, having for their
leader Manlius, who had served with distinction in the wars under Sylla,
joined themselves to Catiline, and came to Rome to assist him with their
suffrages at the election. For he again pretended to the consulship,
having resolved to kill Cicero in a tumult at the elections. Also, the
divine powers seemed to give intimation of the coming troubles, by
earthquakes, thunderbolts, and strange appearances. Nor was human
evidence wanting, certain enough in itself, though not sufficient for
the conviction of the noble and powerful Catiline. Therefore Cicero,
deferring the day of election, summoned Catiline into the senate, and
questioned him as to the charges made against him. Catiline, believing
there were many in the senate desirous of change, and to give a specimen
of himself to the conspirators present, returned an audacious answer,
“What harm,” said he, “when I see two bodies, the one lean and
consumptive with a head, the other great and strong without one, if I
put a head to that body which wants one?” This covert representation of
the senate and the people excited yet greater apprehensions in Cicero.
He put on armor, and was attended from his house by the noble citizens
in a body; and a number of the young men went with him into the Plain.
Here, designedly letting his tunic slip partly off from his shoulders,
he showed his armor underneath, and discovered his danger to the
spectators; who, being much moved at it, gathered round about him for
his defense. At length, Catiline was by a general suffrage again put by,
and Silanus and Murena chosen consuls.
Not long after this, Catiline’s soldiers got together in a body in
Etruria, and began to form themselves into companies, the day appointed
for the design being near at hand. About midnight, some of the principal
and most powerful citizens of Rome, Marcus Crassus, Marcus Marcellus,
and Scipio Metellus went to Cicero’s house, where, knocking at the gate,
and calling up the porter, they commended him to awake Cicero, and tell
him they were there. The business was this: Crassus’s porter after
supper had delivered to him letters brought by an unknown person. Some
of them were directed to others, but one to Crassus, without a name;
this only Crassus read, which informed him that there was a great
slaughter intended by Catiline, and advised him to leave the city. The
others he did not open, but went with them immediately to Cicero, being
affrighted at the danger, and to free himself of the suspicion he lay
under for his familiarity with Catiline. Cicero, considering the matter,
summoned the senate at break of day. The letters he brought with him,
and delivered them to those to whom they were directed, commanding them
to read them publicly; they all alike contained an account of the
conspiracy. And when Quintus Arrius, a man of praetorian dignity,
recounted to them, how soldiers were collecting in companies in Etruria,
and Manlius stated to be in motion with a large force, hovering about
those cities, in expectation of intelligence from Rome, the senate made
a decree, to place all in the hands of the consuls, who should undertake
the conduct of everything, and do their best to save the state. This was
not a common thing, but only done by the senate in case of imminent
danger.
After Cicero had received this power, he committed all affairs
outside to Quintus Metellus, but the management of the city he kept in
his own hands. Such a numerous attendance guarded him every day when he
went abroad, that the greatest part of the market-place was filled with
his train when he entered it. Catiline, impatient of further delay,
resolved himself to break forth and go to Manlius, but he commanded
Marcius and Cethegus to take their swords, and go early in the morning
to Cicero’s gates, as if only intending to salute him, and then to fall
upon him and slay him. This a noble lady, Fulvia, coming by night,
discovered to Cicero, bidding him beware of Cethegus and Marcius. They
came by break of day, and being denied entrance, made an outcry and
disturbance at the gates, which excited all the more suspicion. But
Cicero, going forth, summoned the senate into the temple of Jupiter
Stator, which stands at the end of the Sacred Street, going up to the
Palatine. And when Catiline with others of his party also came, as
intending to make his defense, none of the senators would sit by him,
but all of them left the bench where he had placed himself. And when he
began to speak, they interrupted him with outcries. At length Cicero,
standing up, commanded him to leave the city, for since one governed the
commonwealth with words, the other with arms, it was necessary there
should be a wall betwixt them. Catiline, therefore, immediately left the
town, with three hundred armed men; and assuming, as if he had been a
magistrate, the rods, axes, and military ensigns, he went to Manlius,
and having got together a body of near twenty thousand men, with these
he marched to the several cities, endeavoring to persuade or force them
to revolt. So it being now come to open war, Antonius was sent forth to
fight him.
The remainder of those in the city whom he had corrupted, Cornelius
Lentulus kept together and encouraged. He had the surname Sura, and was
a man of a noble family, but a dissolute liver, who for his debauchery
was formerly turned out of the senate, and was now holding the office of
praetor for the second time, as the custom is with those who desire to
regain the dignity of senator. It is said that he got the surname Sura
upon this occasion; being quaestor in the time of Sylla, he had lavished
away and consumed a great quantity of the public moneys, at which Sylla
being provoked, called him to give an account in the senate; he appeared
with great coolness and contempt, and said he had no account to give,
but they might take this, holding up the calf of his leg, as boys do at
ball, when they have missed. Upon which he was surnamed Sura, sura being
the Roman word for the calf of the leg. Being at another time prosecuted
at law, and having bribed some of the judges, he escaped only by two
votes, and complained of the needless expense he had gone to in paying
for a second, as one would have sufficed to acquit him. This man, such
in his own nature, and now inflamed by Catiline, false prophets and
fortune-tellers had also corrupted with vain hopes, quoting to him
fictitious verses and oracles, and proving from the Sibylline prophecies
that there were three of the name Cornelius designed by fate to be
monarchs of Rome; two of whom, Cinna and Sylla, had already fulfilled
the decree, and that divine fortune was now advancing with the gift of
monarchy for the remaining third Cornelius; and that therefore he ought
by all means to accept it, and not lose opportunity by delay, as
Catiline had done.
Lentulus, therefore, designed no mean or trivial matter, for he had
resolved to kill the whole senate, and as many other citizens as he
could, to fire the city, and spare nobody, except only Pompey’s
children, intending to seize and keep them as pledges of his
reconciliation with Pompey. For there was then a common and strong
report that Pompey was on his way homeward from his great expedition.
The night appointed for the design was one of the Saturnalia; swords,
flax, and sulfur they carried and hid in the house of Cethegus; and
providing one hundred men, and dividing the city into as many parts,
they had allotted to every one singly his proper place, so that in a
moment many kindling the fire, the city might be in a flame all
together. Others were appointed to stop up the aqueducts, and to kill
those who should endeavor to carry water to put it out. Whilst these
plans were preparing, it happened there were two ambassadors from the
Allobroges staying in Rome; a nation at that time in a distressed
condition, and very uneasy under the Roman government. These Lentulus
and his party judging useful instruments to move and seduce Gaul to
revolt, admitted into the conspiracy, and they gave them letters to
their own magistrates, and letters to Catiline; in those they promised
liberty, in these they exhorted Catiline to set all slaves free, and to
bring them along with him to Rome. They sent also to accompany them to
Catiline, one Titus, a native of Croton, who was to carry those letters
to him.
These counsels of inconsidering men, who conversed together over wine
and with women, Cicero watched with sober industry and forethought, and
with most admirable sagacity, having several emissaries abroad, who
observed and traced with him all that was done, and keeping also a
secret correspondence with many who pretended to join in the conspiracy.
He thus knew all the discourse which passed betwixt them and the
strangers; and lying in wait for them by night, he took the Crotonian
with his letters, the ambassadors of the Allobroges acting secretly in
concert with him.
By break of day, he summoned the senate into the temple of Concord,
where he read the letters and examined the informers. Junius Silanus
further stated, that several persons had heard Cethegus say, that three
consuls and four praetors were to be slain; Piso, also, a person of
consular dignity, testified other matters of the like nature; and Caius
Sulpicius, one of the praetors, being sent to Cethegus’s house, found
there a quantity of darts and of armor, and a still greater number of
swords and daggers, all recently whetted. At length, the senate
decreeing indemnity to the Crotonian upon his confession of the whole
matter, Lentulus was convicted, abjured his office (for he was then
praetor), and put off his robe edged with purple in the senate, changing
it for another garment more agreeable to his present circumstances. He,
thereupon, with the rest of his confederates present, was committed to
the charge of the praetors in free custody.
It being evening, and the common people in crowds expecting without,
Cicero went forth to them, and told them what was done, and then,
attended by them, went to the house of a friend and near neighbor; for
his own was taken up by the women, who were celebrating with secret
rites the feast of the goddess whom the Romans call the Good, and the
Greeks, the Women’s goddess. For a sacrifice is annually performed to
her in the consul’s house, either by his wife or mother, in the presence
of the vestal virgins. And having got into his friend’s house privately,
a few only being present, he began to deliberate how he should treat
these men. The severest, and the only punishment fit for such heinous
crimes, he was somewhat shy and fearful of inflicting, as well from the
clemency of his nature, as also lest he should be thought to exercise
his authority too insolently, and to treat too harshly men of the
noblest birth and most powerful friendships in the city; and yet, if he
should use them more mildly, he had a dreadful prospect of danger from
them. For there was no likelihood, if they suffered less than death,
they would be reconciled, but rather, adding new rage to their former
wickedness, they would rush into every kind of audacity, while he
himself, whose character for courage already did not stand very high
with the multitude, would be thought guilty of the greatest cowardice
and want of manliness.
Whilst Cicero was doubting what course to take, a portent happened to
the women in their sacrificing. For on the altar, where the fire seemed
wholly extinguished, a great and bright flame issued forth from the
ashes of the burnt wood; at which others were affrighted, but the holy
virgins called to Terentia, Cicero’s wife, and bade her haste to her
husband, and command him to execute what he had resolved for the good of
his country, for the goddess had sent a great light to the increase of
his safety and glory. Terentia, therefore, as she was otherwise in her
own nature neither tender-hearted nor timorous, but a woman eager for
distinction (who, as Cicero himself says, would rather thrust herself
into his public affairs, than communicate her domestic matters to him),
told him these things, and excited him against the conspirators. So also
did Quintus his brother, and Publius Nigidius, one of his philosophical
friends, whom he often made use of in his greatest and most weighty
affairs of state.
The next day, a debate arising in the senate about the punishment of
the men, Silanus, being the first who was asked his opinion, said, it
was fit they should be all sent to the prison, and there suffer the
utmost penalty. To him all consented in order till it came to Caius
Caesar, who was afterwards dictator. He was then but a young man, and
only at the outset of his career, but had already directed his hopes and
policy to that course by which he afterwards changed the Roman state
into a monarchy. Of this others foresaw nothing; but Cicero had seen
reason for strong suspicion, though without obtaining any sufficient
means of proof. And there were some indeed that said that he was very
near being discovered, and only just escaped him; others are of opinion
that Cicero voluntarily overlooked and neglected the evidence against
him, for fear of his friends and power; for it was very evident to
everybody, that if Caesar was to be accused with the conspirators, they
were more likely to be saved with him, than he to be punished with them.
When, therefore, it came to Caesar’s turn to give his opinion, he
stood up and proposed that the conspirators should not be put to death,
but their estates confiscated, and their persons confined in such cities
in Italy as Cicero should approve, there to be kept in custody till
Catiline was conquered. To this sentence, as it was the most moderate,
and he that delivered it a most powerful speaker, Cicero himself gave no
small weight, for he stood up and, turning the scale on either side,
spoke in favor partly of the former, partly of Caesar’s sentence. And
all Cicero’s friends, judging Caesar’s sentence most expedient for
Cicero, because he would incur the less blame if the conspirators were
not put to death, chose rather the latter; so that Silanus, also,
changing his mind, retracted his opinion, and said he had not declared
for capital, but only the utmost punishment, which to a Roman senator is
imprisonment. The first man who spoke against Caesar’s motion was
Catulus Lutatius. Cato followed, and so vehemently urged in his speech
the strong suspicion about Caesar himself, and so filled the senate with
anger and resolution, that a decree was passed for the execution of the
conspirators. But Caesar opposed the confiscation of their goods, not
thinking it fair that those who had rejected the mildest part of his
sentence should avail themselves of the severest. And when many insisted
upon it, he appealed to the tribunes, but they would do nothing; till
Cicero himself yielding, remitted that part of the sentence.
After this, Cicero went out with the senate to the conspirators; they
were not all together in one place, but the several praetors had them,
some one, some another, in custody. And first he took Lentulus from the
Palatine, and brought him by the Sacred Street, through the middle of
the marketplace, a circle of the most eminent citizens encompassing and
protecting him. The people, affrighted at what was doing, passed along
in silence, especially the young men; as if, with fear and trembling;
they were undergoing a rite of initiation into some ancient, sacred
mysteries of aristocratic power. Thus passing from the market-place, and
coming to the gaol, he delivered Lentulus to the officer, and commanded
him to execute him; and after him Cethegus, and so all the rest in
order, he brought and delivered up to execution. And when he saw many of
the conspirators in the market-place, still standing together in
companies, ignorant of what was done, and waiting for the night,
supposing the men were still alive and in a possibility of being
rescued, he called out in a loud voice, and said, “They did live;” for
so the Romans, to avoid inauspicious language, name those that are dead.
It was now evening, when he returned from the market-place to his own
house, the citizens no longer attending him with silence, nor in order,
but receiving him, as he passed, with acclamations and applauses, and
saluting him as the savior and founder of his country. A bright light
shone through the streets from the lamps and torches set up at the
doors, and the women showed lights from the tops of the houses, to honor
Cicero, and to behold him returning home with a splendid train of the
most principal citizens; amongst whom were many who had conducted great
wars, celebrated triumphs, and added to the possessions of the Roman
empire, both by sea and land. These, as they passed along with him,
acknowledged to one another, that though the Roman people were indebted
to several officers and commanders of that age for riches, spoils, and
power, yet to Cicero alone they owed the safety and security of all
these, for delivering them from so great and imminent a danger. For
though it might seem no wonderful thing to prevent the design, and
punish the conspirators, yet to defeat the greatest of all conspiracies
with so little disturbance, trouble, and commotion, was very
extraordinary. For the greater part of those who had flocked in to
Catiline, as soon as they heard the fate of Lentulus and Cethegus, left
and forsook him, and he himself, with his remaining forces, joining
battle with Antonius, was destroyed with his army.
And yet there were some who were very ready both to speak ill of
Cicero, and to do him hurt for these actions; and they had for their
leaders some of the magistrates of the ensuing year, as Caesar, who was
one of the praetors, and Metellus and Bestia, the tribunes. These,
entering upon their office some few days before Cicero’s consulate
expired, would not permit him to make any address to the people, but,
throwing the benches before the Rostra, hindered his speaking, telling
him he might, if he pleased, make the oath of withdrawal from office,
and then come down again. Cicero, accordingly, accepting the conditions,
came forward to make his withdrawal; and silence being made, he recited
his oath, not in the usual, but in a new and peculiar form, namely, that
he had saved his country, and preserved the empire; the truth of which
oath all the people confirmed with theirs. Caesar and the tribunes, all
the more exasperated by this, endeavored to create him further trouble,
and for this purpose proposed a law for calling Pompey home with his
army, to put an end to Cicero’s usurpation. But it was a very great
advantage for Cicero and the whole commonwealth that Cato was at that
time one of the tribunes. For he, being of equal power with the rest,
and of greater reputation, could oppose their designs. He easily
defeated their other projects, and, in an oration to the people, so
highly extolled Cicero’s consulate, that the greatest honors were
decreed him, and he was publicly declared the Father of his Country,
which title he seems to have obtained, the first man who did so, when
Cato gave it him in this address to the people.
At this time, therefore, his authority was very great in the city;
but he created himself much envy, and offended very many, not by any
evil action, but because he was always lauding and magnifying himself.
For neither senate, nor assembly of the people, nor court of judicature
could meet, in which he was not heard to talk of Catiline and Lentulus.
Indeed, he also filled his books and writings with his own praises, to
such an excess as to render a style, in itself most pleasant and
delightful, nauseous and irksome to his hearers; this ungrateful humor,
like a disease, always cleaving to him. Nevertheless, though he was
intemperately fond of his own glory, he was very free from envying
others, and was, on the contrary, most liberally profuse in commending
both the ancients and his contemporaries, as anyone may see in his
writings. And many such sayings of his are also remembered; as that he
called Aristotle a river of flowing gold, and said of Plato’s Dialogues,
that if Jupiter were to speak, it would be in language like theirs. He
used to call Theophrastus his special luxury. And being asked which of
Demosthenes’s orations he liked best, he answered, the longest. And yet
some affected imitators of Demosthenes have complained of some words
that occur in one of his letters, to the effect that Demosthenes
sometimes falls asleep in his speeches; forgetting the many high
encomiums he continually passes upon him, and the compliment he paid him
when he named the most elaborate of all his orations, those he wrote
against Antony, Philippics. And as for the eminent men of his own time,
either in eloquence or philosophy, there was not one of them whom he did
not, by writing or speaking favorably of him, render more illustrious.
He obtained of Caesar, when in power, the Roman citizenship for
Cratippus, the Peripatetic, and got the court of Areopagus, by public
decree, to request his stay at Athens, for the instruction of their
youth, and the honor of their city. There are letters extant from Cicero
to Herodes, and others to his son, in which he recommends the study of
philosophy under Cratippus. There is one in which he blames Gorgias, the
rhetorician, for enticing his son into luxury and drinking, and,
therefore, forbids him his company. And this, and one other to Pelops,
the Byzantine, are the only two of his Greek epistles which seem to be
written in anger. In the first, he justly reflects on Gorgias, if he
were what he was thought to be, a dissolute and profligate character;
but in the other, he rather meanly expostulates and complains with
Pelops, for neglecting to procure him a decree of certain honors from
the Byzantines.
Another illustration of his love of praise is the way in which
sometimes, to make his orations more striking, he neglected decorum and
dignity. When Munatius, who had escaped conviction by his advocacy,
immediately prosecuted his friend Sabinus, he said in the warmth of his
resentment, “Do you suppose you were acquitted for your own meets,
Munatius, and was it not that I so darkened the case, that the court
could not see your guilt?” When from the Rostra he had made an eulogy on
Marcus Crassus, with much applause, and within a few days after again as
publicly reproached him, Crassus called to him, and said, “Did not you
yourself two days ago, in this same place, commend me?” “Yes,” said
Cicero, “I exercised my eloquence in declaiming upon a bad subject.” At
another time, Crassus had said that no one of his family had ever lived
beyond sixty years of age, and afterwards denied it, and asked, “What
should put it into my head to say so?” “It was to gain the people’s
favor,” answered Cicero; “you knew how glad they would be to hear it.”
When Crassus expressed admiration of the Stoic doctrine, that the good
man is always rich, “Do you not mean,” said Cicero, “their doctrine that
all things belong to the wise?” Crassus being generally accused of
covetousness. One of Crassus’s sons, who was thought so exceedingly like
a man of the name of Axius as to throw some suspicion on his mother’s
honor, made a successful speech in the senate. Cicero on being asked how
he liked it, replied with the Greek words, Axios Crassou.
When Crassus was about to go into Syria, he desired to leave Cicero
rather his friend than his enemy, and, therefore, one day saluting him,
told him he would come and sup with him, which the other as courteously
received. Within a few days after, on some of Cicero’s acquaintances
interceding for Vatinius, as desirous of reconciliation and friendship,
for he was then his enemy, “What,” he replied, “does Vatinius also wish
to come and sup with me?” Such was his way with Crassus. When Vatinius,
who had swellings in his neck, was pleading a cause, he called him the
tumid orator; and having been told by someone that Vatinius was dead, on
hearing presently after that he was alive, “May the rascal perish,” said
he, “for his news not being true.”
Upon Caesar’s bringing forward a law for the division of the lands in
Campania amongst the soldiers, many in the senate opposed it; amongst
the rest, Lucius Gellius, one of the oldest men in the house, said it
should never pass whilst he lived. “Let us postpone it,” said Cicero,
“Gellius does not ask us to wait long.” There was a man of the name of
Octavius, suspected to be of African descent. He once said, when Cicero
was pleading, that he could not hear him; “Yet there are holes,” said
Cicero, “in your ears.” When Metellus Nepos told him, that he had ruined
more as a witness, than he had saved as an advocate, “I admit,” said
Cicero, “that I have more truth than eloquence.” To a young man who was
suspected of having given a poisoned cake to his father, and who talked
largely of the invectives he meant to deliver against Cicero, “Better
these,” replied he, “than your cakes.” Publius Sextius, having amongst
others retained Cicero as his advocate in a certain cause, was yet
desirous to say all for himself, and would not allow anybody to speak
for him; when he was about to receive his acquittal from the judges, and
the ballots were passing, Cicero called to him, “Make haste, Sextius,
and use your time; tomorrow you will be nobody.” He cited Publius Cotta
to bear testimony in a certain cause, one who affected to be thought a
lawyer, though ignorant and unlearned; to whom, when he had said, “I
know nothing of the matter,” he answered, “You think, perhaps, we ask
you about a point of law.” To Metellus Nepos, who, in a dispute between
them, repeated several times, “Who was your father, Cicero?” he replied,
“Your mother has made the answer to such a question in your case more
difficult;” Nepos’s mother having been of ill repute. The son, also, was
of a giddy, uncertain temper. At one time, he suddenly threw up his
office of tribune, and sailed off into Syria to Pompey; and immediately
after, with as little reason, came back again. He gave his tutor,
Philagrus, a funeral with more than necessary attention, and then set up
the stone figure of a crow over his tomb. “This,” said Cicero, “is
really appropriate; as he did not teach you to speak, but to fly about.”
When Marcus Appius, in the opening of some speech in a court of justice,
said that his friend had desired him to employ industry, eloquence, and
fidelity in that cause, Cicero answered, “And how have you had the heart
not to accede to any one of his requests?”
To use this sharp raillery against opponents and antagonists in
judicial pleading seems allowable rhetoric. But he excited much ill
feeling by his readiness to attack anyone for the sake of a jest. A few
anecdotes of this kind may be added. Marcus Aquinius, who had two
sons-in-law in exile, received from him the name of king Adrastus.
Lucius Cotta, an intemperate lover of wine, was censor when Cicero stood
for the consulship. Cicero, being thirsty at the election, his friends
stood round about him while he was drinking. “You have reason to be
afraid,” he said, “lest the censor should be angry with me for drinking
water.” Meeting one day Voconius with his three very ugly daughters, he
quoted the verse,
He reared a race without Apollo’s leave.
When Marcus Gellius, who was reputed the son of a slave, had read
several letters in the senate with a very shrill, and loud voice,
“Wonder not,” said Cicero, “he comes of the criers.” When Faustus Sylla,
the son of Sylla the dictator, who had, during his dictatorship, by
public bills proscribed and condemned so many citizens, had so far
wasted his estate, and got into debt, that he was forced to publish his
bills of sale, Cicero told him that he liked these bills much better
than those of his father. By this habit he made himself odious with many
people.
But Clodius’s faction conspired against him upon the following
occasion. Clodius was a member of a noble family, in the flower of his
youth, and of a bold and resolute temper. He, being in love with
Pompeia, Caesar’s wife, got privately into his house in the dress and
attire of a music-girl; the women being at that time offering there the
sacrifice which must not be seen by men, and there was no man present.
Clodius, being a youth and beardless, hoped to get to Pompeia among the
women without being taken notice of. But coming into a great house by
night, he missed his way in the passages, and a servant belonging to
Aurelia, Caesar’s mother, spying him wandering up and down, inquired his
name. Thus being necessitated to speak, he told her he was seeking for
one of Pompeia’s maids, Abra by name; and she, perceiving it not to be a
woman’s voice, shrieked out, and called in the women; who, shutting the
gates, and searching every place, at length found Clodius hidden in the
chamber of the maid with whom he had come in. This matter being much
talked about, Caesar put away his wife, Pompeia, and Clodius was
prosecuted for profaning the holy rites.
Cicero was at this time his friend, for he had been useful to him in
the conspiracy of Catiline, as one of his forwardest assistants and
protectors. But when Clodius rested his defense upon this point, that he
was not then at Rome, but at a distance in the country, Cicero testified
that he had come to his house that day, and conversed with him on
several matters; which thing was indeed true, although Cicero was
thought to testify it not so much for the truth’s sake as to preserve
his quiet with Terentia his wife. For she bore a grudge against Clodius
on account of his sister Clodia’s wishing, as it was alleged, to marry
Cicero, and having employed for this purpose the intervention of Tullus,
a very intimate friend of Cicero’s; and his frequent visits to Clodia,
who lived in their neighborhood, and the attentions he paid to her had
excited Terentia’s suspicions, and, being a woman of a violent temper,
and having the ascendant over Cicero, she urged him on to taking a part
against Clodius, and delivering his testimony. Many other good and
honest citizens also gave evidence against him, for perjuries,
disorders, bribing the people, and debauching women. Lucullus proved, by
his women-servants, that he had debauched his youngest sister when she
was Lucullus’s wife; and there was a general belief that he had done the
same with his two other sisters, Tertia, whom Marcius Rex, and Clodia,
whom Metellus Celer had married; the latter of whom was called
Quadrantia, because one of her lovers had deceived her with a purse of
small copper money instead of silver, the smallest copper coin being
called a quadrant. Upon this sister’s account, in particular, Clodius’s
character was attacked. Notwithstanding all this, when the common people
united against the accusers and witnesses and the whole party, the
judges were affrighted, and a guard was placed about them for their
defense; and most of them wrote their sentences on the tablets in such a
way, that they could not well be read. It was decided, however, that
there was a majority for his acquittal, and bribery was reported to have
been employed; in reference to which Catulus remarked, when he next met
the judges, “You were very right to ask for a guard, to prevent your
money being taken from you.” And when Clodius upbraided Cicero that the
judges had not believed his testimony, “Yes,” said he, “five and twenty
of them trusted me, and condemned you, and the other thirty did not
trust you, for they did not acquit you till they had got your money.”
Caesar, though cited, did not give his testimony against Clodius, and
declared himself not convinced of his wife’s adultery, but that he had
put her away because it was fit that Caesar’s house should not be only
free of the evil fact, but of the fame too.
Clodius, having escaped this danger, and having got himself chosen
one of the tribunes, immediately attacked Cicero, heaping up all matters
and inciting all persons against him. The common people he gained over
with popular laws; to each of the consuls he decreed large provinces, to
Piso, Macedonia, and to Gabinius, Syria; he made a strong party among
the indigent citizens, to support him in his proceedings, and had always
a body of armed slaves about him. Of the three men then in greatest
power, Crassus was Cicero’s open enemy, Pompey indifferently made
advances to both, and Caesar was going with an army into Gaul. To him,
though not his friend (what had occurred in the time of the conspiracy
having created suspicions between them), Cicero applied, requesting an
appointment as one of his lieutenants in the province. Caesar accepted
him, and Clodius, perceiving that Cicero would thus escape his
tribunician authority, professed to be inclinable to a reconciliation,
laid the greatest fault upon Terentia, made always a favorable mention
of him, and addressed him with kind expressions, as one who felt no
hatred or ill-will, but who merely wished to urge his complaints in a
moderate and friendly way. By these artifices, he so freed Cicero of all
his fears, that he resigned his appointment to Caesar, and betook
himself again to political affairs. At which Caesar being exasperated,
joined the party of Clodius against him, and wholly alienated Pompey
from him; he also himself declared in a public assembly of the people,
that he did not think Lentulus and Cethegus, with their accomplices,
were fairly and legally put to death without being brought to trial. And
this, indeed, was the crime charged upon Cicero, and this impeachment he
was summoned to answer. And so, as an accused man, and in danger for the
result, he changes his dress, and went round with his hair untrimmed, in
the attire of a suppliant, to beg the people’s grace. But Clodius met
him in every corner, having a band of abusive and daring fellows about
him, who derided Cicero for his change of dress and his humiliation, and
often, by throwing dirt and stones at him, interrupted his supplication
to the people.
However, first of all, almost the whole equestrian order changed
their dress with him, and no less than twenty thousand young gentlemen
followed him with their hair untrimmed, and supplicating with him to the
people. And then the senate met, to pass a decree that the people should
change their dress as in time of public sorrow. But the consuls opposing
it, and Clodius with armed men besetting the senate-house, many of the
senators ran out, crying out and tearing their clothes. But this sight
moved neither shame nor pity; Cicero must either fly or determine it by
the sword with Clodius. He entreated Pompey to aid him, who was on
purpose gone out of the way, and was staying at his country-house in the
Alban hills; and first he sent his son-in-law Piso to intercede with
him, and afterwards set out to go himself. Of which Pompey being
informed, would not stay to see him, being ashamed at the remembrance of
the many conflicts in the commonwealth which Cicero had undergone in his
behalf, and how much of his policy he had directed for his advantage.
But being now Caesar’s son-in-law, at his instance he had set aside all
former kindness, and, slipping out at another door, avoided the
interview. Thus being forsaken by Pompey, and left alone to himself, he
fled to the consuls. Gabinius was rough with him, as usual, but Piso
spoke more courteously, desiring him to yield and give place for a while
to the fury of Clodius, and to await a change of times, and to be now,
as before, his country’s savior from the peril of these troubles and
commotions which Clodius was exciting.
Cicero, receiving this answer, consulted with his friends. Lucullus
advised him to stay, as being sure to prevail at last; others to fly,
because the people would soon desire him again, when they should have
enough of the rage and madness of Clodius. This last Cicero approved.
But first he took a statue of Minerva, which had been long set up and
greatly honored in his house, and carrying it to the capitol, there
dedicated it, with the inscription, “To Minerva, Patroness of Rome.” And
receiving an escort from his friends, about the middle of the night he
left the city, and went by land through Lucania, intending to reach
Sicily.
But as soon as it was publicly known that he was fled, Clodius
proposed to the people a decree of exile, and by his own order
interdicted him fire and water, prohibiting any within five hundred
miles in Italy to receive him into their houses. Most people, out of
respect for Cicero, paid no regard to this edict, offering him every
attention and escorting him on his way. But at Hipponium, a city of
Lucania, now called Vibo, one Vibius, a Sicilian by birth, who, amongst
many other instances of Cicero’s friendship, had been made head of the
state engineers when he was consul, would not receive him into his
house, sending him word he would appoint a place in the country for his
reception. Caius Vergilius, the praetor of Sicily, who had been on the
most intimate terms with him, wrote to him to forbear coming into
Sicily. At these things Cicero being disheartened, went to Brundusium,
whence putting forth with a prosperous wind, a contrary gale blowing
from the sea carried him back to Italy the next day. He put again to
sea, and having reached Dyrrachium, on his coming to shore there, it is
reported that an earthquake and a convulsion in the sea happened at the
same time, signs which the diviners said intimated that his exile would
not be long, for these were prognostics of change. Although many visited
him with respect, and the cities of Greece contended which should honor
him most, he yet continued disheartened and disconsolate, like an
unfortunate lover, often casting his looks back upon Italy; and, indeed,
he was become so poor-spirited, so humiliated and dejected by his
misfortunes, as none could have expected in a man who had devoted so
much of his life to study and learning. And yet he often desired his
friends not to call him orator, but philosopher, because he had made
philosophy his business, and had only used rhetoric as an instrument for
attaining his objects in public life. But the desire of glory has great
power in washing the tinctures of philosophy out of the souls of men,
and in imprinting the passions of the common people, by custom and
conversation, in the minds of those that take a part in governing them,
unless the politician be very careful so to engage in public affairs as
to interest himself only in the affairs themselves, but not participate
in the passions that are consequent to them.
Clodius, having thus driven away Cicero, fell to burning his farms
and villas, and afterwards his city house, and built on the site of it a
temple to Liberty. The rest of his property he exposed to sale by daily
proclamation, but nobody came to buy. By these courses he became
formidable to the noble citizens, and, being followed by the commonalty,
whom he had filled with insolence and licentiousness, he began at last
to try his strength against Pompey, some of whose arrangements in the
countries he conquered, he attacked. The disgrace of this made Pompey
begin to reproach himself for his cowardice in deserting Cicero, and,
changing his mind, he now wholly set himself with his friends to
contrive his return. And when Clodius opposed it, the senate made a vote
that no public measure should be ratified or passed by them till Cicero
was recalled. But when Lentulus was consul, the commotions grew so high
upon this matter, that the tribunes were wounded in the Forum, and
Quintus, Cicero’s brother, was left as dead, lying unobserved amongst
the slain. The people began to change in their feelings; and Annius
Milo, one of their tribunes, was the first who took confidence to summon
Clodius to trial for acts of violence. Many of the common people and out
of the neighboring cities formed a party with Pompey, and he went with
them, and drove Clodius out of the Forum, and summoned the people to
pass their vote. And, it is said, the people never passed any suffrage
more unanimously than this. The senate, also, striving to outdo the
people, sent letters of thanks to those cities which had received Cicero
with respect in his exile, and decreed that his house and his
country-places, which Clodius had destroyed, should be rebuilt at the
public charge.
Thus Cicero returned sixteen months after his exile, and the cities
were so glad, and people so zealous to meet him, that what he boasted of
afterwards, that Italy had brought him on her shoulders home to Rome,
was rather less than the truth. And Crassus himself, who had been his
enemy before his exile, went then voluntarily to meet him, and was
reconciled, to please his son Publius, as he said, who was Cicero’s
affectionate admirer.
Cicero had not been long at Rome, when, taking the opportunity of
Clodius’s absence, he went, with a great company, to the capitol, and
there tore and defaced the tribunician tables, in which were recorded
the acts done in the time of Clodius. And on Clodius calling him in
question for this, he answered, that he, being of the patrician order,
had obtained the office of tribune against law, and, therefore, nothing
done by him was valid. Cato was displeased at this, and opposed Cicero,
not that he commended Clodius, but rather disapproved of his whole
administration; yet, he contended, it was an irregular and violent
course for the senate to vote the illegality of so many decrees and
acts, including those of Cato’s own government in Cyprus and at
Byzantium. This occasioned a breach between Cato and Cicero, which,
though it came not to open enmity, yet made a more reserved friendship
between them.
After this, Milo killed Clodius, and, being arraigned for the murder,
he procured Cicero as his advocate. The senate, fearing lest the
questioning of so eminent and high-spirited a citizen as Milo might
disturb the peace of the city, committed the superintendence of this and
of the other trials to Pompey, who should undertake to maintain the
security alike of the city and of the courts of justice. Pompey,
therefore, went in the night, and occupying the high grounds about it,
surrounded the Forum with soldiers. Milo, fearing lest Cicero, being
disturbed by such an unusual sight, should conduct his cause the less
successfully, persuaded him to come in a litter into the Forum, and
there repose himself till the judges were set, and the court filled. For
Cicero, it seems, not only wanted courage in arms, but, in his speaking
also, began with timidity, and in many cases scarcely left off trembling
and shaking when he had got thoroughly into the current and the
substance of his speech. Being to defend Licinius Murena against the
prosecution of Cato, and being eager to outdo Hortensius, who had made
his plea with great applause, he took so little rest that night, and was
so disordered with thought and over-watching, that he spoke much worse
than usual. And so now, on quitting his litter to commence the cause of
Milo, at the sight of Pompey, posted, as it were, and encamped with his
troops above, and seeing arms shining round about the Forum, he was so
confounded, that he could hardly begin his speech, for the trembling of
his body, and hesitance of his tongue; whereas Milo, meantime, was bold
and intrepid in his demeanor, disdaining either to let his hair grow, or
to put on the mourning habit. And this, indeed, seems to have been one
principal cause of his condemnation. Cicero, however, was thought not so
much to have shown timidity for himself, as anxiety about his friend.
He was made one of the priests, whom the Romans call Augurs, in the
room of Crassus the younger, dead in Parthia. Then he was appointed, by
lot, to the province of Cilicia, and set sail thither with twelve
thousand foot and two thousand six hundred horse. He had orders to bring
back Cappadocia to its allegiance to Ariobarzanes, its king; which
settlement he effected very completely without recourse to arms. And
perceiving the Cilicians, by the great loss the Romans had suffered in
Parthia, and the commotions in Syria, to have become disposed to attempt
a revolt, by a gentle course of government he soothed them back into
fidelity. He would accept none of the presents that were offered him by
the kings; he remitted the charge of public entertainments, but daily,
at his own house, received the ingenious and accomplished persons of the
province, not sumptuously, but liberally. His house had no porter, nor
was he ever found in bed by any man, but early in the morning, standing
or walking before his door, he received those who came to offer their
salutations. He is said never once to have ordered any of those under
his command to be beaten with rods, or to have their garments rent. He
never gave contumelious language in his anger, nor inflicted punishment
with reproach. He detected an embezzlement, to a large amount, in the
public money, and thus relieved the cities from their burdens, at the
same time that he allowed those who made restitution, to retain without
further punishment their rights as citizens. He engaged too, in war, so
far as to give a defeat to the banditti who infested Mount Amanus, for
which he was saluted by his army Imperator. To Caecilius, the orator,
who asked him to send him some panthers from Cilicia, to be exhibited on
the theater at Rome, he wrote, in commendation of his own actions, that
there were no panthers in Cilicia, for they were all fled to Caria, in
anger that in so general a peace they had become the sole objects of
attack. On leaving his province, he touched at Rhodes, and tarried for
some length of time at Athens, longing much to renew his old studies. He
visited the eminent men of learning, and saw his former friends and
companions; and after receiving in Greece the honors that were due to
him, returned to the city, where everything was now just as it were in a
flame, breaking out into a civil war.
When the senate would have decreed him a triumph, he told them he had
rather, so differences were accommodated, follow the triumphal chariot
of Caesar. In private, he gave advice to both, writing many letters to
Caesar, and personally entreating Pompey; doing his best to soothe and
bring to reason both the one and the other. But when matters became
incurable, and Caesar was approaching Rome, and Pompey durst not abide
it, but, with many honest citizens, left the city, Cicero, as yet, did
not join in the flight, and was reputed to adhere to Caesar. And it is
very evident he was in his thoughts much divided, and wavered painfully
between both, for he writes in his epistles, “To which side should I
turn? Pompey has the fair and honorable plea for war; and Caesar, on the
other hand, has managed his affairs better, and is more able to secure
himself and his friends. So that I know whom I should fly, not whom I
should fly to.” But when Trebatius, one of Caesar’s friends, by letter
signified to him that Caesar thought it was his most desirable course to
join his party, and partake his hopes, but if he considered himself too
old a man for this, then he should retire into Greece, and stay quietly
there, out of the way of either party, Cicero, wondering that Caesar had
not written himself, gave an angry reply, that he should not do anything
unbecoming his past life. Such is the account to be collected from his
letters.
But as soon as Caesar was marched into Spain, he immediately sailed
away to join Pompey. And he was welcomed by all but Cato; who, taking
him privately, chid him for coming to Pompey. As for himself, he said,
it had been indecent to forsake that part in the commonwealth which he
had chosen from the beginning; but Cicero might have been more useful to
his country and friends, if, remaining neuter, he had attended and used
his influence to moderate the result, instead of coming hither to make
himself, without reason or necessity, an enemy to Caesar, and a partner
in such great dangers. By this language, partly, Cicero’s feelings were
altered, and partly, also, because Pompey made no great use of him.
Although, indeed, he was himself the cause of it, by his not denying
that he was sorry he had come, by his depreciating Pompey’s resources,
finding fault underhand with his counsels, and continually indulging in
jests and sarcastic remarks on his fellow-soldiers. Though he went about
in the camp with a gloomy and melancholy face himself, he was always
trying to raise a laugh in others, whether they wished it or not. It may
not be amiss to mention a few instances. To Domitius, on his preferring
to a command one who was no soldier, and saying, in his defense, that he
was a modest and prudent person, he replied, “Why did not you keep him
for a tutor for your children?” On hearing Theophanes, the Lesbian, who
was master of the engineers in the army, praised for the admirable way
in which he had consoled the Rhodians for the loss of their fleet, “What
a thing it is,” he said, “to have a Greek in command!” When Caesar had
been acting successfully, and in a manner blockading Pompey, Lentulus
was saying it was reported that Caesar’s friends were out of heart;
“Because,” said Cicero, “they do not wish Caesar well.” To one Marcius,
who had just come from Italy, and told them that there was a strong
report at Rome that Pompey was blocked up, he said, “And you sailed
hither to see it with your own eyes.” To Nonius, encouraging them after
a defeat to be of good hope, because there were seven eagles still left
in Pompey’s camp, “Good reason for encouragement,” said Cicero, “if we
were going to fight with jack-daws.” Labienus insisted on some
prophecies to the effect that Pompey would gain the victory; “Yes,” said
Cicero, “and the first step in the campaign has been losing our camp.”
After the battle of Pharsalia was over, at which he was not present
for want of health, and Pompey was fled, Cato, having considerable
forces and a great fleet at Dyrrachium, would have had Cicero
commander-in-chief, according to law, and the precedence of his consular
dignity. And on his refusing the command, and wholly declining to take
part in their plans for continuing the war, he was in the greatest
danger of being killed, young Pompey and his friends calling him
traitor, and drawing their swords upon him; only that Cato interposed,
and hardly rescued and brought him out of the camp.
Afterwards, arriving at Brundusium, he tarried there sometime in
expectation of Caesar, who was delayed by his affairs in Asia and Egypt.
And when it was told him that he was arrived at Tarentum, and was coming
thence by land to Brundusium, he hastened towards him, not altogether
without hope, and yet in some fear of making experiment of the temper of
an enemy and conqueror in the presence of many witnesses. But there was
no necessity for him either to speak or do anything unworthy of himself;
for Caesar, as soon as he saw him coming a good way before the rest of
the company, came down to meet him, saluted him, and, leading the way,
conversed with him alone for some furlongs. And from that time forward
he continued to treat him with honor and respect; so that, when Cicero
wrote an oration in praise of Cato, Caesar, in writing an answer to it,
took occasion to commend Cicero’s own life and eloquence, comparing him
to Pericles and Theramenes. Cicero’s oration was called Cato; Caesar’s,
anti-Cato.
So also, it is related that when Quintus Ligarius was prosecuted for
having been in arms against Caesar, and Cicero had undertaken his
defense, Caesar said to his friends, “Why might we not as well once more
hear a speech from Cicero? Ligarius, there is no question, is a wicked
man and an enemy.” But when Cicero began to speak, he wonderfully moved
him, and proceeded in his speech with such varied pathos, and such a
charm of language, that the color of Caesar’s countenance often changed,
and it was evident that all the passions of his soul were in commotion.
At length, the orator touching upon the Pharsalian battle, he was so
affected that his body trembled, and some of the papers he held dropped
out of his hands. And thus he was overpowered, and acquitted Ligarius.
Henceforth, the commonwealth being changed into a monarchy, Cicero
withdrew himself from public affairs, and employed his leisure in
instructing those young men that would, in philosophy; and by the near
intercourse he thus had with some of the noblest and highest in rank, he
again began to possess great influence in the city. The work and object
which he set himself was to compose and translate philosophical
dialogues and to render logical and physical terms into the Roman idiom.
For he it was, as it is said, who first or principally gave Latin names
to phantasia, syncatathesis, epokhe, catalepsis, atomon, ameres, kenon,
and other such technical terms, which, either by metaphors or other
means of accommodation, he succeeded in making intelligible and
expressible to the Romans. For his recreation, he exercised his
dexterity in poetry, and when he was set to it, would make five hundred
verses in a night. He spent the greatest part of his time at his
country-house near Tusculum. He wrote to his friends that he led the
life of Laertes, either jestingly, as his custom was, or rather from a
feeling of ambition for public employment, which made him impatient
under the present state of affairs. He rarely went to the city, unless
to pay his court to Caesar. He was commonly the first amongst those who
voted him honors, and sought out new terms of praise for himself and for
his actions. As, for example, what he said of the statues of Pompey,
which had been thrown down, and were afterwards by Caesar’s orders set
up again: that Caesar, by this act of humanity, had indeed set up
Pompey’s statues, but he had fixed and established his own.
He had a design, it is said, of writing the history of his country,
combining with it much of that of Greece, and incorporating in it all
the stories and legends of the past that he had collected. But his
purposes were interfered with by various public and various private
unhappy occurrences and misfortunes; for most of which he was himself in
fault. For first of all, he put away his wife Terentia, by whom he had
been neglected in the time of the war, and sent away destitute of
necessaries for his journey; neither did he find her kind when he
returned into Italy, for she did not join him at Brundusium, where he
stayed a long time, nor would allow her young daughter, who undertook so
long a journey, decent attendance, or the requisite expenses; besides,
she left him a naked and empty house, and yet had involved him in many
and great debts. These were alleged as the fairest reasons for the
divorce. But Terentia, who denied them all, had the most unmistakable
defense furnished her by her husband himself, who not long after married
a young maiden for the love of her beauty, as Terentia upbraided him; or
as Tiro, his emancipated slave, has written, for her riches, to
discharge his debts. For the young woman was very rich, and Cicero had
the custody of her estate, being left guardian in trust; and being
indebted many myriads of money, he was persuaded by his friends and
relations to marry her, notwithstanding his disparity of age, and to use
her money to satisfy his creditors. Antony, who mentions this marriage
in his answer to the Philippics, reproaches him for putting away a wife
with whom he had lived to old age; adding some happy strokes of sarcasm
on Cicero’s domestic, inactive, unsoldier-like habits. Not long after
this marriage, his daughter died in child-bed at Lentulus’s house, to
whom she had been married after the death of Piso, her former husband.
The philosophers from all parts came to comfort Cicero; for his grief
was so excessive, that he put away his new-married wife, because she
seemed to be pleased at the death of Tullia. And thus stood Cicero’s
domestic affairs at this time.
He had no concern in the design that was now forming against Caesar,
although, in general, he was Brutus’s most principal confidant, and one
who was as aggrieved at the present, and as desirous of the former state
of public affairs, as any other whatsoever. But they feared his temper,
as wanting courage, and his old age, in which the most daring
dispositions are apt to be timorous.
As soon, therefore, as the act was committed by Brutus and Cassius,
and the friends of Caesar were got together, so that there was fear the
city would again be involved in a civil war, Antony, being consul,
convened the senate, and made a short address recommending concord. And
Cicero, following with various remarks such as the occasion called for,
persuaded the senate to imitate the Athenians, and decree an amnesty for
what had been done in Caesar’s case, and to bestow provinces on Brutus
and Cassius. But neither of these things took effect. For as soon as the
common people, of themselves inclined to pity, saw the dead body of
Caesar borne through the marketplace, and Antony showing his clothes
filled with blood, and pierced through in every part with swords,
enraged to a degree of frenzy, they made a search for the murderers, and
with firebrands in their hands ran to their houses to burn them. They,
however, being forewarned, avoided this danger; and expecting many more
and greater to come, they left the city.
Antony on this was at once in exultation, and everyone was in alarm
with the prospect that he would make himself sole ruler, and Cicero in
more alarm than anyone. For Antony, seeing his influence reviving in the
commonwealth, and knowing how closely he was connected with Brutus, was
ill-pleased to have him in the city. Besides, there had been some former
jealousy between them, occasioned by the difference of their manners.
Cicero, fearing the event, was inclined to go as lieutenant with
Dolabella into Syria. But Hirtius and Pansa, consuls elect as successors
of Antony, good men and lovers of Cicero, entreated him not to leave
them, undertaking to put down Antony if he would stay in Rome. And he,
neither distrusting wholly, nor trusting them, let Dolabella go without
him, promising Hirtius that he would go and spend his summer at Athens,
and return again when he entered upon his office. So he set out on his
journey; but some delay occurring in his passage, new intelligence, as
often happens, came suddenly from Rome, that Antony had made an
astonishing change, and was doing all things and managing all public
affairs at the will of the senate, and that there wanted nothing but his
presence to bring things to a happy settlement. And therefore, blaming
himself for his cowardice, he returned again to Rome, and was not
deceived in his hopes at the beginning. For such multitudes flocked out
to meet him, that the compliments and civilities which were paid him at
the gates, and at his entrance into the city, took up almost one whole
day’s time.
On the morrow, Antony convened the senate, and summoned Cicero
thither. He came not, but kept is bed, pretending to be ill with his
journey; but the true reason seemed the fear of some design against him,
upon a suspicion and intimation given him on his way to Rome. Antony,
however, showed great offense at the affront, and sent soldiers,
commanding them to bring him or burn his house; but many interceding and
supplicating for him, he was contented to accept sureties. Ever after,
when they met, they passed one another with silence, and continued on
their guard, till Caesar, the younger, coming from Apollonia, entered on
the first Caesar’s inheritance, and was engaged in a dispute with Antony
about two thousand five hundred myriads of money, which Antony detained
from the estate.
Upon this, Philippus, who married the mother, and Marcellus, who
married the sister of young Caesar, came with the young man to Cicero,
and agreed with him that Cicero should give them the aid of his
eloquence and political influence with the senate and people, and Caesar
give Cicero the defense of his riches and arms. For the young man had
already a great party of the soldiers of Caesar about him. And Cicero’s
readiness to join him was founded, it is said, on some yet stronger
motives; for it seems, while Pompey and Caesar were yet alive, Cicero,
in his sleep, had fancied himself engaged in calling some of the sons of
the senators into the capitol, Jupiter being about, according to the
dream, to declare one of them the chief ruler of Rome. The citizens,
running up with curiosity, stood about the temple, and the youths,
sitting in their purple-bordered robes, kept silence. On a sudden the
doors opened, and the youths, arising one by one in order, passed round
the god, who reviewed them all, and, to their sorrow, dismissed them;
but when this one was passing by, the god stretched forth his right hand
and said, “O ye Romans, this young man, when he shall be lord of Rome,
shall put an end to all your civil wars.” It is said that Cicero formed
from his dream a distinct image of the youth, and retained it afterwards
perfectly, but did not know who it was. The next day, going down into
the Campus Martius, he met the boys resuming from their gymnastic
exercises, and the first was he, just as he had appeared to him in his
dream. Being astonished at it, he asked him who were his parents. And it
proved to be this young Caesar, whose father was a man of no great
eminence, Octavius, and his mother, Attia, Caesar’s sister’s daughter;
for which reason, Caesar, who had no children, made him by will the heir
of his house and property. From that time, it is said that Cicero
studiously noticed the youth whenever he met him, and he as kindly
received the civility; and by fortune he happened to be born when Cicero
was consul.
These were the reasons spoken of; but it was principally Cicero’s
hatred of Antony, and a temper unable to resist honor, which fastened
him to Caesar, with the purpose of getting the support of Caesar’s power
for his own public designs. For the young man went so far in his court
to him, that he called him Father; at which Brutus was so highly
displeased, that, in his epistles to Atticus he reflected on Cicero
saying, it was manifest, by his courting Caesar for fear of Antony, he
did not intend liberty to his country, but an indulgent master to
himself. Notwithstanding, Brutus took Cicero’s son, then studying
philosophy at Athens, gave him a command, and employed him in various
ways, with a good result. Cicero’s own power at this time was at the
greatest height in the city, and he did whatsoever he pleased; he
completely overpowered and drove out Antony, and sent the two consuls,
Hirtius and Pansa, with an army, to reduce him; and, on the other hand,
persuaded the senate to allow Caesar the lictors and ensigns of a
praetor, as though he were his country’s defender. But after Antony was
defeated in battle, and the two consuls slain, the armies united, and
ranged themselves with Caesar. And the senate, fearing the young man,
and his extraordinary fortune, endeavored, by honors and gifts, to call
off the soldiers from him, and to lessen his power; professing there was
no further need of arms, now Antony was put to flight.
This giving Caesar an affright, he privately sends some friends to
entreat and persuade Cicero to procure the consular dignity for them
both together; saying he should manage the affairs as he pleased, should
have the supreme power, and govern the young man who was only desirous
of name and glory. And Caesar himself confessed, that in fear of ruin,
and in danger of being deserted, he had seasonably made use of Cicero’s
ambition, persuading him to stand with him, and to accept the offer of
his aid and interest for the consulship.
And now, more than at any other time, Cicero let himself be carried
away and deceived, though an old man, by the persuasions of a boy. He
joined him in soliciting votes, and procured the good-will of the
senate, not without blame at the time on the part of his friends; and
he, too, soon enough after, saw that he had ruined himself, and betrayed
the liberty of his country. For the young man, once established, and
possessed of the office of consul, bade Cicero farewell; and,
reconciling himself to Antony and Lepidus, joined his power with theirs,
and divided the government, like a piece of property, with them. Thus
united, they made a schedule of above two hundred persons who were to be
put to death. But the greatest contention in all their debates was on
the question of Cicero’s case. Antony would come to no conditions,
unless he should be the first man to be killed. Lepidus held with
Antony, and Caesar opposed them both. They met secretly and by
themselves, for three days together, near the town of Bononia. The spot
was not far from the camp, with a river surrounding it. Caesar, it is
said, contended earnestly for Cicero the first two days; but on the
third day he yielded, and gave him up.
The terms of their mutual concessions were these; that Caesar should
desert Cicero, Lepidus his brother Paulus, and Antony, Lucius Caesar,
his uncle by his mother’s side. Thus they let their anger and fury take
from them the sense of humanity, and demonstrated that no beast is more
savage than man, when possessed with power answerable to his rage.
Whilst these things were contriving, Cicero was with his brother at
his country-house near Tusculum; whence, hearing of the proscriptions,
they determined to pass to Astura, a villa of Cicero’s near the sea, and
to take shipping from thence for Macedonia to Brutus, of whose strength
in that province news had already been heard. They traveled together in
their separate litters, overwhelmed with sorrow; and often stopping on
the way till their litters came together, condoled with one another. But
Quintus was the more disheartened, when he reflected on his want of
means for his journey; for, as he said, he had brought nothing with him
from home. And even Cicero himself had but a slender provision. It was
judged, therefore, most expedient that Cicero should make what haste he
could to fly, and Quintus return home to provide necessaries, and thus
resolved, they mutually embraced, and parted with many tears.
Quintus, within a few days after, betrayed by his servants to those
who came to search for him, was slain, together with his young son. But
Cicero was carried to Astura, where, finding a vessel, he immediately
went on board her, and sailed as far as Circaeum with a prosperous gale;
but when the pilots resolved immediately to set sail from thence,
whether fearing the sea, or not wholly distrusting the faith of Caesar,
he went on shore, and passed by land a hundred furlongs, as if he was
going for Rome. But losing resolution and changing his mind, he again
returned to the sea, and there spent the night in fearful and perplexed
thoughts. Sometimes he resolved to go into Caesar’s house privately, and
there kill himself upon the altar of his household gods, to bring divine
vengeance upon him; but the fear of torture put him off this course. And
after passing through a variety of confused and uncertain counsels, at
last he let his servants carry him by sea to Capitae, where he had a
house, an agreeable place to retire to in the heat of summer, when the
Etesian winds are so pleasant.
There was at that place a chapel of Apollo, not far from the
sea-side, from which a flight of crows rose with a great noise, and made
towards Cicero’s vessel as it rowed to land, and lighting on both sides
of the yard, some croaked, others pecked the ends of the ropes. This was
looked upon by all as an ill omen; and, therefore, Cicero went again
ashore, and entering his house, lay down upon his bed to compose himself
to rest. Many of the crows settled about the window, making a dismal
cawing; but one of them alighted upon the bed where Cicero lay covered
up, and with its bill by little and little pecked off the clothes from
his face. His servants, seeing this, blamed themselves that they should
stay to be spectators of their master’s murder, and do nothing in his
defense, whilst the brute creatures came to assist and take care of him
in his undeserved affliction; and, therefore, partly by entreaty, partly
by force, they took him up, and carried him in his litter towards the
sea-side.
But in the meantime the assassins were come with a band of soldiers,
Herennius, a centurion, and Popillius, a tribune, whom Cicero had
formerly defended when prosecuted for the murder of his father. Finding
the doors shut, they broke them open, and Cicero not appearing and those
within saying they knew not where he was, it is stated that a youth, who
had been educated by Cicero in the liberal arts and sciences, an
emancipated slave of his brother Quintus, Philologus by name, informed
the tribune that the litter was on its way to the sea through the close
and shady walks. The tribune, taking a few with him, ran to the place
where he was to come out. And Cicero, perceiving Herennius running in
the walks, commanded his servants to set down the litter; and stroking
his chin, as he used to do, with his left hand, he looked steadfastly
upon his murderers, his person covered with dust, his beard and hair
untrimmed, and his face worn with his troubles. So that the greatest
part of those that stood by covered their faces whilst Herennius slew
him. And thus was he murdered, stretching forth his neck out of the
litter, being now in his sixty-fourth year. Herennius cut off his head,
and, by Antony’s command, his hands also, by which his Philippics were
written; for so Cicero styled those orations he wrote against Antony,
and so they are called to this day.
When these members of Cicero were brought to Rome, Antony was holding
an assembly for the choice of public officers; and when he heard it, and
saw them, he cried out, “Now let there be an end of our proscriptions.”
He commanded his head and hands to be fastened up over the Rostra, where
the orators spoke; a sight which the Roman people shuddered to behold,
and they believed they saw there not the face of Cicero, but the image
of Antony’s own soul. And yet amidst these actions he did justice in one
thing, by delivering up Philologus to Pomponia, the wife of Quintus;
who, having got his body into her power, besides other grievous
punishments, made him cut off his own flesh by pieces, and roast and eat
it; for so some writers have related. But Tiro, Cicero’s emancipated
slave, has not so much as mentioned the treachery of Philologus.
Some long time after, Caesar, I have been told, visiting one of his
daughter’s sons, found him with a book of Cicero’s in his hand. The boy
for fear endeavored to hide it under his gown; which Caesar perceiving,
took it from him, and turning over a great part of the book standing,
gave it him again, and said, “My child, this was a learned man, and a
lover of his country.” And immediately after he had vanquished Antony,
being then consul, he made Cicero’s son his colleague in the office; and
under that consulship, the senate took down all the statues of Antony,
and abolished all the other honors that had been given him, and decreed
that none of that family should thereafter bear the name of Marcus; and
thus the final acts of the punishment of Antony were, by the divine
powers, devolved upon the family of Cicero.
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Comparison of Demosthenes and Cicero
These are the most memorable circumstances recorded in history of
Demosthenes and Cicero which have come to our knowledge. But
omitting an exact comparison of their respective faculties in
speaking, yet thus much seems fit to be said; that Demosthenes, to
make himself a master in rhetoric, applied all the faculties he had,
natural or acquired, wholly that way; that he far surpassed in force
and strength of eloquence all his contemporaries in political and
judicial speaking, in grandeur and majesty all the panegyrical
orators, and in accuracy and science all the logicians and
rhetoricians of his day; that Cicero was highly educated, and by his
diligent study became a most accomplished general scholar in all
these branches, having left behind him numerous philosophical
treatises of his own on Academic principles; as, indeed, even in his
written speeches, both political and judicial, we see him
continually trying to show his learning by the way. And one may
discover the different temper of each of them in their speeches. For
Demosthenes’s oratory was without all embellishment and jesting,
wholly composed for real effect and seriousness; not smelling of the
lamp, as Pytheas scoffingly said, but of the temperance,
thoughtfulness, austerity, and grave earnestness of his temper.
Whereas Cicero’s love of mockery often ran him into scurrility; and
in his love of laughing away serious arguments in judicial cases by
jests and facetious remarks, with a view to the advantage of his
clients, he paid too little regard to what was decent: saying, for
example, in his defense of Caelius, that he had done no absurd thing
in such plenty and affluence to indulge himself in pleasures, it
being a kind of madness not to enjoy the things we possess,
especially since the most eminent philosophers have asserted
pleasure to be the chiefest good. So also we are told, that when
Cicero, being consul, undertook the defense of Murena against Cato’s
prosecution, by way of bantering Cato, he made a long series of
jokes upon the absurd paradoxes, as they are called, of the Stoic
sect; so that a loud laughter passing from the crowd to the judges,
Cato, with a quiet smile, said to those that sat next him, “My
friends, what an amusing consul we have.”
And, indeed, Cicero was by natural temper very much disposed to
mirth and pleasantry, and always appeared with a smiling and serene
countenance. But Demosthenes had constant care and thoughtfulness in
his look, and a serious anxiety, which he seldom, if ever, laid
aside; and, therefore, was accounted by his enemies, as he himself
confessed, morose and ill-mannered.
Also, it is very evident, out of their several writings, that
Demosthenes never touched upon his own praises but decently and
without offense when there was need of it, and for some weightier
end; but, upon other occasions modestly and sparingly. But Cicero’s
immeasurable boasting of himself in his orations argues him guilty
of an uncontrollable appetite for distinction, his cry being
evermore that arms should give place to the gown, and the soldier’s
laurel to the tongue. And at last we find him extolling not only his
deeds and actions, but his orations also, as well those that were
only spoken, as those that were published; as if he were engaged in
a boyish trial of skill, who should speak best, with the
rhetoricians, Isocrates and Anaximenes, not as one who could claim
the task to guide and instruct the Roman nation, the
Soldier full-armed, terrific to the foe.
It is necessary, indeed, for a political leader to be an able
speaker; but it is an ignoble thing for any man to admire and relish
the glory of his own eloquence. And, in this matter, Demosthenes had
a more than ordinary gravity and magnificence of mind, accounting
his talent in speaking nothing more than a mere accomplishment and
matter of practice, the success of which must depend greatly on the
good-will and candor of his hearers, and regarding those who pride
themselves on such accounts to be men of a low and petty
disposition.
The power of persuading and governing the people did, indeed,
equally belong to both, so that those who had armies and camps at
command stood in need of their assistance; as Chares, Diopithes, and
Leosthenes of Demosthenes’s, Pompey and young Caesar of Cicero’s, as
the latter himself admits in his Memoirs addressed to Agrippa and
Maecenas. But what are thought and commonly said most to demonstrate
and try the tempers of men, namely, authority and place, by moving
every passion, and discovering every frailty, these are things which
Demosthenes never received; nor was he ever in a position to give
such proof of himself, having never obtained any eminent office, nor
led any of those armies into the field against Philip which he
raised by his eloquence. Cicero, on the other hand, was sent
quaestor into Sicily, and proconsul into Cilicia and Cappadocia, at
a time when avarice was at the height, and the commanders and
governors who were employed abroad, as though they thought it a mean
thing to steal, set themselves to seize by open force; so that it
seemed no heinous matter to take bribes, but he that did it most
moderately was in good esteem. And yet he, at this time, gave the
most abundant proofs alike of his contempt of riches and of his
humanity and good-nature. And at Rome, when he was created consul in
name, but indeed received sovereign and dictatorial authority
against Catiline and his conspirators, he attested the truth of
Plato’s prediction, that then the miseries of states would be at an
end, when by a happy fortune supreme power, wisdom, and justice
should be united in one.
It is said, to the reproach of Demosthenes, that his eloquence
was mercenary; that he privately made orations for Phormion and
Apollodorus, though adversaries in the same cause; that he was
charged with moneys received from the king of Persia, and condemned
for bribes from Harpalus. And should we grant that all those (and
they are not few) who have made these statements against him have
spoken what is untrue, yet that Demosthenes was not the character to
look without desire on the presents offered him out of respect and
gratitude by royal persons, and that one who lent money on maritime
usury was likely to be thus indifferent, is what we cannot assert.
But that Cicero refused, from the Sicilians when he was quaestor,
from the king of Cappadocia when he was proconsul, and from his
friends at Rome when he was in exile, many presents, though urged to
receive them, has been said already.
Moreover, Demosthenes’s banishment was infamous, upon conviction
for bribery; Cicero’s very honorable, for ridding his country of a
set of villains. Therefore, when Demosthenes fled his country, no
man regarded it; for Cicero’s sake the senate changed their habit,
and put on mourning, and would not be persuaded to make any act
before Cicero’s return was decreed. Cicero, however, passed his
exile idly in Macedonia. But the very exile of Demosthenes made up a
great part of the services he did for his country; for he went
through the cities of Greece, and everywhere, as we have said,
joined in the conflict on behalf of the Grecians, driving out the
Macedonian ambassadors, and approving himself a much better citizen
than Themistocles and Alcibiades did in the like fortune. And, after
his return, he again devoted himself to the same public service, and
continued firm to his opposition to Antipater and the Macedonians.
Whereas Laelius reproached Cicero in the senate for sitting silent
when Caesar, a beardless youth, asked leave to come forward,
contrary to the law, as a candidate for the consulship; and Brutus,
in his epistles, charges him with nursing and rearing a greater and
more heavy tyranny than that they had removed.
Finally, Cicero’s death excites our pity; for an old man to be
miserably carried up and down by his servants, flying and hiding
himself from that death which was, in the course of nature, so near
at hand; and yet at last to be murdered. Demosthenes, though he
seemed at first a little to supplicate, yet, by his preparing and
keeping the poison by him, demands our admiration; and still more
admirable was his using it. When the temple of the god no longer
afforded him a sanctuary, he took refuge, as it were, at a mightier
altar, freeing himself from arms and soldiers, and laughing to scorn
the cruelty of Antipater.
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