Book 3

I. THUS was Gaius Caesar, who had been foremost in extending the Roman sway, slain by his enemies and buried by the people. All of his murderers were brought to punishment. How the most distinguished of them were punished this book and the next one will show, and the other civil wars waged by the Romans will likewise be included in them.

The Senate blamed Antony for his funeral oration over Caesar, by which, chiefly, the people were incited to disregard the decree of amnesty lately passed, and to scour the city in order to fire the houses of the murderers. But he changed it from bad to good feeling toward himself by one capital stroke of policy. There was a certain pseudo-Marius in Rome named Amatius. He pretended to be a grandson of Marius, and for this reason was popular with the masses. Being, according to this pretence, a relative of Caesar, he was pained beyond measure by the latter’s death, and erected an altar on the site of his funeral pyre. He collected a band of reckless men and made himself a perpetual terror to the murderers. Some of these had fled from the city, and those who had accepted the command of provinces from Caesar himself had gone away to take charge of the same, Decimus Brutus to Cisalpine Gaul, Trebonius to Asia adjoining Ionia, and Tillius Cimber to Bithynia. Cassius and Marcus Brutus, who were the special favorites of the Senate, had been chosen by Caesar as governors for the following year, the former of Syria, and the latter of Macedonia. Being still city praetors, they remained there necessarily, and in their official capacity they conciliated the colonists by various decrees, and among others by one enabling them to sell their allotments, the law hitherto forbidding the alienation of the land till the end of twenty years.

It was said that Amatius was only waiting an opportunity to entrap Brutus and Cassius. On the rumor of this plot, Antony, using his consular authority, arrested Amatius and boldly put him to death without a trial. The senators were astonished at this deed as an act of violence and contrary to law, but they enjoyed it exceedingly because they thought that the situation of Brutus and Cassius would never be safe without such boldness. The followers of Amatius, and the plebeians generally, missing Amatius and feeling indignation at the deed, and especially because it had been done by Antony, whom the people had honored, determined that they would not be scorned in that way. With shouts they took possession of the forum, exclaiming against Antony and called on the magistrates, in place of Amatius, to dedicate the altar and to offer the first sacrifices on it to Caesar. Having been driven out of the forum by soldiers sent by Antony, they became still more indignant, and vociferated more loudly, and some of them showed places where Caesar’s statues had been torn from their pedestals. One man told them that he could show a shop where the statues had been broken up. The others followed, and having witnessed the fact, they set fire to the place. Finally, Antony sent more soldiers and some of those who resisted were killed, others were captured, and of these the slaves were crucified and the freemen thrown over the Tarpeian rock.

So this tumult was quieted. The extreme fondness of the plebeians for Antony was turned into extreme hatred. The Senate was delighted, because it believed that Brutus and his associates could not rest secure otherwise. Antony also moved that Sextus Pompeius (the son of Pompey the Great, who was still much beloved by all) should be recalled from Spain, where he was still at war with Caesar’s lieutenants, and that he should be paid 50,000,000 of Attic drachmas out of the public treasury for his father’s confiscated property and be appointed commander of the sea, as his father had been, with charge of all the Roman ships, wherever situated, which were needed for immediate service. The astonished Senate accepted each of these decrees with alacrity and applauded Antony the whole day; for nobody, in their estimation, was more devoted to the republic than the elder Pompey, and hence nobody was more regretted. Cassius and Brutus, who were of Pompey’s faction, and the ones most honored by all at that time, thought that they would be entirely safe. They thought that what they had done would be confirmed, and the republic be at last restored, and their party successful. Wherefore Cicero praised Antony continually, and the Senate, perceiving that the plebeians were making plots against him on its account, allowed him a guard for his personal safety, chosen by himself from the veterans who were sojourning in the city.

Antony, either because he had done everything for this very purpose, or seizing the happy chance as very useful to him, enlisted his guard and kept adding to it till it amounted to 6000 men. They were not common soldiers. He thought that he should easily get the latter for his service otherwise. These were composed wholly of centurions, as being fit for command, and of long experience in war, and his own acquaintances through service under Caesar. He appointed tribunes over them, chosen from their own number and adorned with military decoration, and these he held in honor and made sharers of his public councils. The Senate began to be suspicious of the number of his guards, and of his care in choosing them, and advised him to reduce them to a moderate number so as to avoid invidious remarks. He promised to do so as soon as the disorder among the plebeians should be quieted. It had been decreed that all the things done by Caesar, and all that he intended to do, should be ratified. The memoranda of Caesar’s intentions were in Antony’s possession, and Caesar’s secretary, Faberius, was obedient to him in every way since Caesar himself, on the point of his departure, had placed all petitions of this kind in Antony’s discretion. Antony made many additions in order to secure the favor of many persons. He made gifts to cities, to princes, and to his own guards, and although all were advised that these were Caesar’s memoranda, yet the recipients knew that the favor was due to Antony. In the same way he enrolled many new names in the list of senators and did many other things to please the Senate, in order that it might not bear him ill-will in reference to his guards.

While Antony was busy with these matters, Brutus and Cassius, seeing nobody among either the plebeians or the veterans inclined to be at peace with them, and considering that any other person might lay plots against them like that of Amatius, became distrustful of the fickleness of Antony, who now had an army under his command. Seeing that the republic was not confirmed by deeds, they suspected Antony for that reason also. They reposed most confidence in Decimus Brutus, who had three legions near by. They sent secretly to Trebonius in Asia and to Tillius in Bithynia, asking them to collect money quietly and to prepare an army. They were anxious to enter upon the government of the provinces assigned to them by Caesar, but as the time for doing so had not yet come, they thought that it would be indecorous for them to leave their service as city praetors unfinished, and that they should incur the suspicion of an undue longing for power over the provinces. They preferred, nevertheless, to spend the remainder of their year as private citizens somewhere, as a matter of necessity, rather than serve as praetors in the city where they were not safe, and were not held in honor corresponding to the benefits they had conferred upon their country. Being in this state of mind, and the Senate holding the same opinion as themselves, the latter gave them charge of the supply of corn for the city from all parts of the world until the time should arrive for them to take command of their provinces. This was done in order that Brutus and Cassius might not at any time seem to have fled. So great was the anxiety and regard for them that the Senate cared for the other murderers chiefly on their account.

After Brutus and Cassius had left the city, Antony, being in possession of something like monarchical power, cast about for the government of a province and an army for himself. He desired that of Syria most of all, but he was not ignorant of the fact that he was under suspicion and that he would be more so if he should ask for it; for the Senate had secretly encouraged Dolabella, the other consul, to oppose Antony, as the former had always been at variance with the latter. Antony, knowing that this young Dolabella was himself ambitious, persuaded him to solicit the province of Syria and the army enlisted against the Parthians, in place of Cassius, and to ask it, not from the Senate, which had not the power to grant it, but from the people by a law. Dolabella was delighted, and immediately brought forward the law. The Senate accused him of nullifying the decrees of Caesar. He replied that Caesar had not assigned the war against the Parthians to anybody, and that Cassius, who had been assigned to the command of Syria, had himself been the first to alter the decrees of Caesar by authorizing colonists to sell their allotments before the expiration of the legal period of twenty years. He said also that it would be an indignity to himself if he, being Dolabella, were not chosen for Syria instead of Cassius. The Senate then persuaded one of the tribunes, named Asprenas, to falsify the signs in the sky during the comitia, expecting that Antony, who was both consul and augur, and was supposed to be still at variance with Dolabella, would coöperate with him. But when the voting came on, and Asprenas said that the signs in the sky were unfavorable, as it was not his business to attend to this,

Antony, angry at his lying, ordered that the tribes should go on with the voting on the subject of Dolabella.

Thus Dolabella became governor of Syria and general of the war against the Parthians and of the forces enlisted for that purpose by Caesar, together with those that had gone in advance to Macedonia. Then it became known for the first time that Antony was coöperating with Dolabella. After this business had been transacted by the people, Antony solicited the province of Macedonia from the Senate, well knowing that after Syria had been given to Dolabella, they would be ashamed to deny Macedonia to himself, especially as it was a province without an army. They gave it to him unwillingly, at the same time wondering why Antony should let Dolabella have the army, but glad nevertheless that the latter had it rather than the former. They themselves took the opportunity to ask of Antony other provinces for Brutus and Cassius. They assigned to them Cyrenaica and Crete; or, as some say, both of these to Cassius and Bithynia to Brutus. Such was the state of affairs at Rome.

Octavius, the son of the daughter of Caesar’s sister, had been appointed master of Caesar’s horse for one year, for Caesar at times made this a yearly office, passing it around among his friends. Being still a young man, he had been sent by Caesar to Apollonia on the Adriatic to be educated and trained in the art of war, so that he might accompany Caesar on his expeditions. Troops of horse from Macedonia were sent to him by turns for the purpose of drill, and certain army officers visited him frequently as a relative of Caesar. As he received all with kindness, an acquaintance and good feeling grew up by means of them between himself and the army. At the end of a six months’ sojourn in Apollonia, it was announced to him one evening that Caesar had been killed in the senate-house by those who were dearest to him, and were then the most powerful ones under him. As the rest of the story was untold he was overcome by fear, not knowing whether the deed had been committed by the Senate as a whole or was confined to the immediate actors; nor whether they had already been punished by the people, or would be, or whether the people were pleased with what had been done.

Thereupon his Roman friends advised him to take refuge with the army in Macedonia to insure his personal safety, and that when he should learn that the murder was only a private transaction he should take courage and avenge Caesar of his enemies; and there were high officers who promised to protect him if he would come. But his mother and his stepfather, Philippus, wrote to him from Rome not to be too confident and not to attempt anything rash, but to bear in mind what Caesar, after conquering every enemy, had suffered at the hands of his closest friends; that it would be safer under present circumstances to choose a private life and hasten to them at Rome, but with caution. Octavius yielded to them because he did not know what had happened after Caesar’s death. He took leave of the army officers and crossed the Adriatic, not to Brundusium (for as he had made no test of the army at that place he avoided all risk), but to another town not far from it and out of the direct route, named Lupiae. There he took lodgings and remained for a while.

When more accurate information about the murder and the public grief had reached him, together with copies of Caesar’s will and the decrees of the Senate, his relatives still cautioned him to beware of the enemies of Caesar, as he was the latter’s adopted son and heir. They even advised him to renounce the adoption, together with the inheritance. But he thought that to do so, and not to avenge Caesar, would be disgraceful. So he went to Brundusium, first sending in advance to see that none of the murderers had laid any trap for him. When the army there advanced to meet him, and received him as Caesar’s son, he took courage, offered sacrifice, and immediately assumed the name of Caesar; for it is customary among the Romans for the adopted son to take the name of the adoptive father. He not only assumed it, but he changed his own name and his patronymic completely, calling himself Caesar the son of Caesar, instead of Octavius the son of Octavius, and he continued to do so ever after. Directly multitudes of men from all sides flocked to him as Caesar’s son, some from friendship to Caesar, others his freedmen and slaves, and with them other soldiers, who were either engaged in conveying supplies and money to the army in Macedonia, or bringing other money and tribute from other countries to Brundusium.

Encouraged by the numbers who were joining him, and by the glory of Caesar, and by the good-will of all toward himself, he journeyed to Rome with a notable crowd which, like a torrent, grew larger and larger each day. Although he was safe from any open attacks by reason of the multitude surrounding him, he was all the more on his guard against secret ones, because almost all of those accompanying him were new acquaintances. Some of the towns were not altogether favorable to him, but Caesar’s veterans, who had been distributed in colonies, flocked from their settlements to greet the young man. They bewailed Caesar, and cursed Antony for not proceeding against the monstrous crime, and said that they would avenge it if anybody would lead them. Octavius praised them, but postponed the matter for the present and sent them away. When he had arrived at Tarracina, about 400 stades from Rome, he received news that Cassius and Brutus had been deprived of Syria and Macedonia by the consuls, and had received the smaller provinces of Cyrenaica and Crete by way of compensation; that certain exiles had returned; that Sextus Pompey had been recalled; that some new members had been added to the Senate in accordance with Caesar’s memoranda, and that many other things were happening.

When he arrived at the city his mother and Philippus and the others who were interested in him were anxious about the estrangement of the Senate from Caesar, and the decree that his murderers should not be punished, and the contempt shown him by Antony, who was then all-powerful, and had neither gone to meet Caesar’s son when he was coming nor sent anybody to him. Octavius quieted their fears, saying that he would call on Antony, as the younger man on the older and the private citizen on the consul, and that he would show proper respect for the Senate. As for the decree, he said that it had been passed because nobody had prosecuted the murderers; whenever anybody should have courage to prosecute, the people and the Senate would lend their aid to him as one enforcing the law, the gods would do so for the justice of his cause, and perhaps Antony himself would help. If he (Octavius) should reject the inheritance and the adoption, he would be false to Caesar and would wrong the people who had a share in the will. As he was finishing his remarks he burst out that he ought not only to incur danger, but even to die, after he had been preferred before all others in this way by Caesar, if he would show himself worthy of one who had himself braved every danger. Then turning to his mother, he repeated the words of Achilles to Thetis, which were then fresh in his mind: — Then quickly let me die since fate denied That I should aid my friend against the foes That slew him.

Iliad, xviii. 98, Bryant’s translation.

After saying this he added that these words of Achilles, and especially the deed that followed, had of all things given him immortal renown; and he invoked Caesar not as a friend, but a father; not as a fellow-soldier, but a commander-in-chief; not as one who had fallen by the law of war, but as the victim of sacrilegious murder in the senate-house.

Thereupon his mother’s anxiety was changed to joy, and she embraced him as the only one worthy of Caesar. She checked his speaking and urged him to prosecute his designs with the favor of fortune. She advised him, however, to use art and patience rather than open boldness. Octavius approved of this policy and promised to adopt it in action, and forthwith sent around to his friends the same evening, asking them to come to the forum early in the morning and bring a crowd with them. There presenting himself to Gaius Antonius, the brother of Antony, who was the city praetor, he said that he accepted the adoption of Caesar; for it is a Roman custom that adoptions are confirmed by witnesses before the praetors. When the public scribes had taken down his declaration, Octavius went from the forum straightway to Antony. The latter was in the gardens that Caesar had given to him, that had formerly been Pompey’s. As Octavius was kept waiting at the vestibule for some time, he interpreted the fact as a sign of Antony’s displeasure. When he was admitted there were greetings and mutual questionings proper to the occasion. When the time came to speak of the business in hand, Octavius said: —

Father Antony (for the benefits that Caesar conferred upon you and your gratitude toward him warrant me in giving you that title), for some of the things that you have done since his death I praise you and owe you thanks; for others I blame you. I shall speak freely of what my sorrow prompts me to speak. When Caesar was killed you were not present, as the murderers detained you at the door; otherwise you would have saved him or incurred the danger of sharing the same fate with him. If the latter would have befallen you, then it is well that you were not present. When certain senators proposed rewards to the murderers as tyrannicides you strongly opposed them. For this I give you hearty thanks, although you knew that they intended to kill you also; not, as I think, because you were likely to avenge Caesar, but, as they themselves say, lest you should be his successor in the tyranny. At the same time they made it clear that they were not tyrant-killers, but murderers, by taking refuge in the Capitol, either as guilty suppliants in a temple or as enemies in a fortress. How then could they have obtained amnesty and impunity for their crime unless some portion of the Senate and people had been corrupted by them? Yet you, as consul, ought to have seen what would be for the interest of the majority, and if you had wished to avenge such a monstrous crime, or to reclaim the erring, your office would have enabled you to do either. But you sent hostages from your own family to the murderers at the Capitol for their security. Let us suppose that those who had been corrupted forced you to do this also, yet when Caesar’s will had been read, and you had delivered your righteous funeral oration, and the people, in lively remembrance of Caesar, had carried firebrands to the houses of the murderers, but spared them for the sake of their neighbors, agreeing to come back armed the next day, why did you not coöperate with them and lead them with fire or arms? Or why did you not bring them to trial, if trial was necessary for men seen in the act of murder — you, Caesar’s friend; you, the consul; you, Antony?

The pseudo-Marius was put to death by your order in the plenitude of your authority, but you connived at the escape of the murderers, some of whom have passed on to the provinces which they nefariously hold as gifts at the hands of him whom they slew. These things were no sooner done than you and Dolabella, the consuls, proceeded, very properly, to strip them and possess yourselves of Syria and Macedonia. I should have owed you thanks for this also, had you not immediately voted them Cyrenaica ana Crete; had you not preferred these fugitives for governorships, where they can always defend themselves against me, and had you not tolerated Decimus Brutus in the command of Hither Gaul, although he, like the rest, was one of my father’s slayers. It may be said that these were decrees of the Senate. But you put the vote and you presided over the Senate — you who ought most of all to have opposed them on your own account. To grant amnesty to the murderers was merely to insure their personal safety as a matter of favor, but to vote them provinces and rewards forthwith was to insult Caesar and annul your own opinion. Grief has compelled me to speak these words, against the rules of decorum perhaps, considering my youth and the respect I owe you. They have been spoken, however, to the firmest friend of Caesar, to one who was invested by him with the greatest honor and power, and who would have been adopted by him no doubt if he had known that you would accept kinship with the family of Aeneas in exchange for that of Hercules; for this created doubt in his mind when he was thinking strongly of designating you as his successor.

For the future, Antony, I conjure you by the gods who preside over friendship, and by Caesar himself, to change somewhat the measures that have been adopted, for you can change them if you wish to; if not, that you will hereafter aid and cooperate with me in punishing the murderers, with the help of the people and of those who are still my father’s faithful friends. If you still have regard for the conspirators and the Senate, do not be hard on us. So much for that. You know about my private affairs and the expense I must incur for the legacy which my father directed to be given to the people, and the haste involved in it lest I may seem churlish by reason of delay, and lest those who have been assigned to colonies be compelled to remain in the city and waste their time on my account. Of Caesar’s movables, that were brought immediately after the murder from his house to yours as a safer place, I beg you to take keepsakes and anything else by way of ornament and whatever you like to retain from us. But in order that I may pay the legacy to the people, please give me the gold coin that Caesar had collected for his intended wars. That will suffice for the distribution to 300,000 men now. For the rest of my expenses I may perhaps borrow from you, if I may be so bold, or from the public treasury on your security, if you will give it, and I will offer my own property for sale at once.

While Octavius was speaking in this fashion Antony was astonished at his freedom of speech and his boldness, which seemed much beyond the bounds of propriety and of his years. He was offended by the words because they were wanting in the respect due to him, and still more by the demand for money, and, accordingly, he replied in the severe terms following: Young man, if Caesar left you the government, together with the inheritance and his name, it is proper for you to ask and for me to give the reasons for my public acts. But if the Roman people never surrendered the government to anybody to dispose of in succession, not even when they had kings, whom they expelled and swore never to have any more (this was the very charge that the murderers brought against your father, saying that they killed him because he was no longer leading but reigning), then there is no need of my answering you as to my public acts. For the same reason I release you from any indebtedness to me in the way of gratitude for those acts. They were performed not as a favor to you, but to the people, except in one particular, which was of the greatest importance to Caesar and to yourself. For if, to secure my own safety and to shield myself from enmity, I had allowed honors to be voted to the murderers as tyrannicides, Caesar would have been declared a tyrant, to whom neither glory, nor any kind of honor, nor confirmation of his acts would have been possible; who could make no valid will, have no son, nor any burial of his body, even as a private citizen. The laws provide that the bodies of tyrants shall be cast out unburied, their memory stigmatized, and their property confiscated.

Apprehending all of these consequences, I entered the lists for Caesar, for his immortal honor, and his public funeral, not without danger, not without incurring hatred to myself, contending against hot-headed, blood-thirsty men, who, as you know, had already conspired to kill me; and against the Senate, which was displeased with your father on account of his usurped authority. But I willingly chose to incur these dangers and to suffer anything rather than allow Caesar to remain unburied and dishonored — the most valiant man of his time, the most fortunate in every respect, and the one to whom the highest honors were due from me. It is by reason of the dangers I incurred that you enjoy your present distinction as the successor of Caesar, his family, his name, his dignity, his wealth. It was more becoming in you to testify your gratitude to me for these things than to reproach me for concessions made to soothe the Senate, or in compensation for what I demanded of it, or in pursuance of other needs or reasons — you a younger man addressing an older one. But enough of that. You hint that I am ambitious of the leadership. I am not ambitious of it, although I do not consider myself unworthy of it. You think that I am distressed because I was not mentioned in Caesar’s will, though you agree with me that the family of the Heraclidae is enough to content one.

As to your pecuniary needs and your wishing to borrow from the public funds, I should think you must be joking, unless we might believe that you are still ignorant of the fact that the public treasury was left empty by your father. After he assumed the government the public revenues were brought to him instead of to the treasury, and they will presently be found among Caesar’s assets when we vote an investigation into these matters. This will not be unjust to Caesar now that he is dead, nor would he say that it was unjust if he were living and were asked for the accounts. And as there will be many private persons to dispute with you concerning single pieces of property, you may assume that this portion will not be uncontested. The money transferred to my house was not so large a sum as you conjecture, nor is any part of it in my custody now. The men in power and authority, except Dolabella and my brothers, divided up the whole of it straightway as the property of a tyrant, but were brought around by me to support the decrees in favor of Caesar, and you, if you are wise, when you get possession of the remainder, will distribute it among those who are disaffected toward you rather than among the people. The former, if they are in harmony with you, will send the people, who are to be colonized, away to their settlements. The people, however, as you ought to have learned from the Greek studies you have been lately pursuing, are as unstable as the waves of the sea, now advancing, now retreating. In like manner, among us also, the people are forever exalting their favorites, and casting them down again.

Feeling outraged by the many insulting things said by Antony, Octavius went away, invoking his father repeatedly by name, and offered for sale all the property which had come to him by the inheritance, at the same time exhorting the people to stand by him. While this hasty action made manifest Antony’s enmity toward him, and the Senate voted an immediate investigation of the public accounts, most of them grew apprehensive of the young Caesar’ on account of the favor in which his father was held by the soldiers and the plebeians, and on account of his own present popularity based on the expected distribution of the money, and by reason of the wealth which had fallen to him in such vast measure that in the opinion of many he would not restrict himself to the rank of a private citizen. But they were most apprehensive of Antony, lest he should bring the young Caesar, distinguished and rich as he was, under his own control, and grasp the sovereignty held by the elder Caesar. Others were delighted with the present state of affairs, believing that the two men would come in conflict with each other; and that the investigation concerning the public money would presently put an end to the wealth of Octavius, and that the treasury would be filled thereby because much of the public property would be found in Caesar’s estate.

In the meantime many persons brought lawsuits against Octavius for the recovery of landed property, some making one claim and some another, differing in other respects, but for the most part having this in common, that it had been confiscated from persons who had been banished or put to death by the proscription. These suits were brought before Antonius himself or the other consul, Dolabella. If any were brought before other magistrates, Octavius was worsted through Antony’s influence, although he showed by the public records that the purchases had been made by his father, and that the last decree of the Senate had confirmed all of Caesar’s acts. Great wrongs were done him in these judgments, and the losses in consequence thereof were going on without end, until Pedius and Pinarius, who had a certain portion of the inheritance under Caesar’s will, complained to Antony, both for themselves and for Octavius, that they were suffering injustice in violation of the Senate’s decree. They thought that he ought to annul only the things done in derogation of Caesar, and to ratify all that had been done by him. Antony acknowledged that his course was perhaps somewhat contrary to the agreements voted. The decrees also, he said, had been recorded in a sense different from the understanding at the time. While hastily passing a mere decree of amnesty, it had been registered that whatever had been previously determined on should stand unrepealed, not for its own sake, not because it was satisfactory in all respects, but rather to promote good order and to quiet the people, who had been thrown into tumult by these events. It would be more just, he added, to observe the spirit than the letter of the decree, and not to make an unseemly opposition to so many men who had lost their own and their ancestors’ property in the civil convulsions, and to do this in favor of a young man who had received an amount of other people’s wealth disproportionate to a private station and beyond his hopes, and who was not making good use of his fortune, but employing it in the rashest adventures. He would take care of them (Pedius and Pinarius) after their portion should have been separated from that of Octavius. This was the answer made by Antony to Pedius and Pinarius. So they took their portion immediately, in order not to lose their own share by the lawsuits, and they did this not so much on their own account as on that of Octavius, for they were going to bestow the whole of it upon him soon afterward.

The games were now approaching, which Gaius Antonius, the brother of Antony, was about to give in behalf of Brutus, the praetor, as he attended also to the other duties of the praetorship which devolved on him in the latter’s absence. Lavish expense was incurred in the preparations for them, in the hope that the people, gratified by the spectacle, would recall Brutus and Cassius. Octavius, on the other hand, intrigued against this scheme, distributing the money derived from the sale of his property among the head men of the tribes by turns, to be divided by them among the first comers. He went around to the places where his property was on sale and ordered the auctioneers to announce the lowest possible price for everything, both on account of the uncertainty and danger of the lawsuits still pending, and on account of his own zeal for the people, all of which brought him both popularity and sympathy as one undeserving of such treatment. When, in addition to what he had received as Caesar’s heir, he offered for sale his own property derived from his father Octavius, and whatever he had from other sources, and all that belonged to his mother and to Philippus, and the shares of Pedius and Pinarius which he begged from them, in order to make the distribution to the people (because in consequence of the litigation Caesar’s property was not sufficient even for this purpose), then the people considered it no longer the gift of the elder Caesar, but of the younger one, and they commiserated him deeply and praised him both for what he endured and for what he aspired to be. It was evident that they would not long tolerate the wrong that Antony was doing him.

They showed their feelings clearly while Brutus’ games were in progress, lavish as these were. Although a certain number, who had been hired for the purpose, shouted that Brutus and Cassius should be recalled, and the rest of the spectators were thus wrought up to a feeling of pity for them, crowds ran in and stopped the games until the demand for their recall ceased. When Brutus and Cassius learned that Octavius had frustrated what they had hoped to obtain from the games, they decided to go to Syria and Macedonia, which had been theirs before these provinces were voted to Dolabella and Antony, and to seize them by force. When their intentions became known, Dolabella hastened to Syria, taking the province of Asia in his way in order to collect money there. Antony, thinking that he should soon need troops for his own purposes, conceived the idea of transferring to himself the army in Macedonia, which was composed of the very best material and was of large size (it consisted of six legions, besides a great number of archers and light-armed troops, much cavalry, and a corresponding amount of apparatus of all kinds), although it properly belonged to Dolabella, who had been intrusted with Syria and the war against the Parthians, because Caesar was about to use these forces against the Parthians. Antony wanted it especially because it was close at hand, and, by crossing the Adriatic, could be thrown at once into Italy.

Presently a rumor was noised about that the Getae, learning of Caesar’s death, had made an incursion into Macedonia and were ravaging it. Antony asked the Senate to give him an army in order to punish them, saying that this army had been prepared by Caesar to be used against the Getae before marching against the Parthians, and that everything was now quiet on the Parthian frontier. The Senate distrusted the rumor, and sent messengers to make inquiry. Antony, in order to dissipate their fear and suspicion, proposed a decree that it should not be lawful for anybody, for any cause whatever, to vote for a dictatorship, or to accept it if offered. If anybody should disregard any of these provisions, he might be killed with impunity by anybody who should meet him. Having deceived the Senate chiefly by this means, and having agreed with the friends of Dolabella to give him one legion, he was chosen absolute commander of the forces in Macedonia. Having obtained what he desired, he sent his brother Gaius with haste to communicate the decree of the Senate to the army. Those who had been sent to inquire into the rumor came back and reported that they had seen no Getae in Macedonia, but they added, either truthfully, or because they were instructed to do so by Antony, that it was feared that they would make an incursion into Macedonia if the army were withdrawn.

While these things were taking place at Rome, Cassius and Brutus were collecting troops and money, and Trebonius, who was governor of the province of Asia, was fortifying his towns for them. When Dolabella arrived, Trebonius would not admit him to Pergamus or Smyrna, but allowed him, as consul, to occupy a market-place outside the walls. When the latter attacked the walls with fury, but accomplished nothing, Trebonius said that he would be admitted to Ephesus. Dolabella started for Ephesus forthwith, and Trebonius sent a force to follow him at a certain distance. While these were observing Dolabella’s march, they were overtaken by night, and, having no farther suspicions, returned to Smyrna, leaving a few of their number to follow him. Dolabella laid an ambush for this small number, captured and killed them, and went back the same night to Smyrna. Finding it unguarded, he took it by escalade. Trebonius, who was captured in bed, told his captors to lead the way to Dolabella, saying that he was willing to follow them. One of the centurions answered him facetiously, Go where you please, but you must leave your head behind, for we are ordered to bring your head, not yourself. With these words the centurion immediately cut off his head, and early in the morning Dolabella ordered it to be displayed on the praetor’s chair where Trebonius was accustomed to transact public business. Since Trebonius had participated in the murder of Caesar by detaining Antony in conversation at the door of the senate-house while the others killed him, the soldiers and camp-followers fell upon the rest of his body with fury and treated it with every kind of indignity. They rolled his head from one to another in sport along the city pavements like a ball till it was completely crushed. This was the first of the murderers who was visited with such punishment.

Antony conceived the idea of bringing his army from Macedonia to Italy; and being in want of any other pretext for this step he asked the Senate to let him exchange the province of Macedonia for that of Cisalpine Gaul, which was under the command of Decimus Brutus Albinus. He remembered that Caesar had marched from the latter province when he overthrew Pompey and he thought that he should appear to be transferring his army to Gaul and not to Italy. The Senate, which looked upon Cisalpine Gaul as its own fortress, was angry, and now for the first time perceived the stratagem and repented having given him Macedonia. The principal members sent word privately to Decimus to keep a strong hold on his province, and to raise additional troops and money lest he should be overpowered by Antony, so much did they fear and hate the latter. Antony then bethought him to ask the people, instead of the Senate, for this province by a law, in the same manner that Caesar had obtained it at a former time and Dolabella had recently obtained Syria. In order to intimidate the Senate he ordered his brother, Gaius, to bring his army across the Adriatic to Brundusium; and the latter proceeded to do as he was directed.

This was the time for the games that the aedile Critonius was about to exhibit, and Octavius made preparations to display his father’s gilded throne and crown, which the Senate had voted should be placed in front for him at all games. When Critonius said that he could not allow Caesar to be honored in this way at games given at his expense, Octavius brought him before Antony as consul. Antony said he would refer the matter to the Senate. Octavius was vexed and said, Refer it; I will place the throne there as long as the decree is in force. Antony was angry and prohibited it. He prohibited it still more unreasonably in the next games given by Octavius himself, which had been instituted by his father in honor of Venus Genetrix when he dedicated a temple to her in a forum, together with the forum itself. It was evident that universal hatred of Antony had already grown out of this affair, since he seemed to be moved not so much by a feeling of rivalry toward the younger Caesar as by an ungrateful purpose to insult the memory of the elder one. Octavius himself, with a crowd of people like a body-guard, moved about among the plebeians and those who had received benefits from his father, or had served under him in war, stirring their anger and beseeching them not to despise him, the victim of so many and so great outrages, nor willingly desert him, but to defend Caesar, their commander and benefactor, dishonored by Antony; to defend him for their own sakes, because they would never be secure in what they had received from Caesar unless the decrees passed in his honor should remain in full force. He exclaimed against Antony everywhere throughout the city, and especially from the high places that he came to, saying, O Antony, do not be angry with Caesar on my account. Do not insult one who has been the greatest benefactor to you. Heap indignities on me to your heart’s content. Cease plundering his property until the legacy to the citizens is paid; then take all the rest. However poor I may be, my father’s glory, if that remains, and the distribution to the people, if you will allow it to be made, will be all-sufficient for me.

Henceforth there were open and repeated outcries against Antony on all sides. The latter indulged in severer threats against Octavius, and when they became known the people were still more incensed against him. The tribunes of Antony’s guard, who had served under the elder Caesar, and who were then in the highest favor with Antony, urged him to refrain from insult, both on their account and on his own, as he had served under Caesar and had obtained his present good fortune at Caesar’s hands. Antony, recognizing the truth of these words, and feeling a sense of shame before those who uttered them and needing some help from Octavius himself, with the people, to procure the exchange of provinces, agreed with what they said and swore that what he had done had been quite contrary to his intention, but that he had been compelled to change his purpose because the young man was inordinately puffed up, being still a youth and showing no respect for his elders and no honor for those in authority. Although for his own benefit the young man still needed reproof, yet in deference to their remonstrances he would restrain his anger and return to his former disposition and intention if Octavius, also, would curb his presumption.

The tribunes were delighted with this reply and they brought Antony and Octavius together, who, after some mutual chiding, formed an alliance. The law concerning Cisalpine Gaul was proposed at once to the great dismay of the senators. They intended, if Antony should first bring the law before them, to reject it, and if he should bring it before the popular assembly without consulting them, to have the tribunes of the people veto it. There were some who advised that this province be made free altogether, so much was it dreaded on account of its nearness. Antony, on the other hand, accused them of intrusting it to Decimus because he had been one of Caesar’s murderers and of having no confidence in himself because he had not joined in killing the man who had subdued the province and brought it to its knees — throwing out these insinuations openly against all of his opponents, as persons who rejoiced over the assassination. When the day for the comitia came the Senate desired that the votes should be taken by centuries, but the Antonians, who had enclosed the forum with a rope during the night, demanded that the votes be taken by tribes according to a plan they had agreed upon. Although the plebeians were incensed against Antony they nevertheless coöperated with him for the sake of Octavius, who stood alongside the rope and begged them to do so. He did this in order that Decimus, who had been one of his father’s murderers, might not have the government of a province so convenient, and of the army belonging to it, and, moreover, to gratify Antony, who was now in league with him. He expected also to get some assistance from Antony in return. The tribunes had been corrupted with money by Antony and remained silent. So the law was passed and Antony now with plausible reason brought his army across the Adriatic.

One of the tribunes of the people having died Octavius favored the election of Flaminius as his successor. The people thought that he was ambitious of this office for himself, but that he refrained from being a candidate because he was under age, and, accordingly, they proposed to cast their votes for him for tribune. The Senate begrudged him this increase of power, fearing lest, as tribune, he should bring the murderers of his father before the popular assembly for trial. Antony, in disregard of his recent alliance with Octavius, either to curry favor with the Senate, or to appease its dissatisfaction with the law respecting Cisalpine Gaul, or for private reasons, gave public notice, as consul, that Octavius should not solicit votes contrary to law; and that if he should do so he (Antony) would use every means in his power against him. As this edict was an act of ingratitude toward Octavius, and was insulting both to him and to the people, the latter were extremely angry and took steps to defeat Antony’s wishes in the election, so that he became alarmed and annulled the comitia, saying that the remaining number of tribunes was sufficient. Octavius, thus at last openly attacked, sent numerous agents to the towns colonized by his father to tell how he had been treated and to learn the state of feeling in each. He also sent certain persons in the guise of traders into Antony’s camp to mingle with the soldiers, to work upon the boldest of them, and secretly distribute handbills among the rank and file.

While Octavius was doing this the military tribunes again sought an audience with Antony and addressed him thus: We, O Antony, and the others who served with you under Caesar, established his rule and continued to maintain it from day to day as its faithful supporters. We know how his murderers hate and conspire against us and how the Senate favors them. But after the people drove them out we took fresh courage seeing that Caesar’s acts were not altogether without friends, were not forgotten, were not unappreciated. For our future security we put our trust in you, the friend of Caesar, after him the most experienced of all as a commander, our present leader, and the one most fit to be such. Our enemies are starting up afresh. They have boldly seized Syria and Macedonia and are raising money and troops against us. The Senate is stirring up Decimus Brutus against you. Yet you are wasting your powers of mind in a disagreement with the young Caesar. We naturally fear lest there be added to the war, which has not yet broken out but is imminent, dissensions among you, which shall accomplish all that our enemies desire against us. We beseech you to consider these things for the sake of piety toward Caesar and care for us, who have never given you cause for complaint, and for your own interest even more than ours. Help Octavius as much as you can, or at all events as much as may be needful, to punish the murderers. Then you will enjoy your power without anxiety and will provide security for us, who are now apprehensive both for ourselves and for you.

To the tribunes who had thus spoken Antony made the following reply: What friendship and zeal I had for Caesar while he lived, what dangers I braved in his service, you, who have been my fellow-soldiers and the sharers in those events, know full well. What favors he showed me, what honors he continually bestowed upon me, it does not become me to say. The murderers, too, were acquainted with these facts. They conspired to kill me with Caesar because they knew that if I were living they could not compass their designs. Whoever dissuaded them from that purpose did so not from regard for my safety, but to preserve the appearance of tyrannicide, so that they might not seem to be killing a number of persons as enemies, but only one as a despot. Who, then, will believe that I have no care for Caesar, who was my benefactor, that I prefer his enemies, and that I willingly condone his murder at the hands of those who conspired against me also, as the young Caesar imagines? Whence came their amnesty, whence their preferment? For he wishes to charge these things upon me instead of the Senate. Learn from me how they came about.

When Caesar was suddenly slain in the senate-house fear fell upon me most of all by reason of my friendship for him and my ignorance of the facts, as I knew not the particulars of the conspiracy nor against whom it was designed. The people were terror-stricken. The murderers with their gladiators took possession of the Capitol and shut themselves up in it. The Senate was on their side, just as it now is more openly, and was about to vote rewards to them as tyrannicides. If Caesar were declared a tyrant then might we all have perished as the friends of a tyrant. In the midst of such confusion, anxiety, and fear, when it would not have been surprising if I had been at a loss what to do, you will find, if you examine, that where courage was needed I was boldest and where artifice was required I was most crafty. The first thing to be done, because it embraced everything else, was to prevent the voting of rewards to the conspirators. This I accomplished against the strong opposition of the Senate and of the murderers, with unfailing courage and in the face of danger, because I then believed that we of Caesar’s party could be safe only in case Caesar were not declared a tyrant. But when I saw our enemies, and the Senate itself, plunged in the same fear (lest, if Caesar were not decreed a tyrant, they themselves should be convicted of murder), and making their fight, for this reason, I yielded and granted amnesty instead of rewards to the murderers, in order to gain what I wanted in exchange. What did I want and how important was it? That Caesar’s name should not be blotted out was the dearest wish of all to me, that his property should not be confiscated, that the adoption on which this young man prides himself should not be annulled, that the will should not be declared invalid, that his body should have a royal funeral, that the immortal honors previously decreed to him should be fulfilled, that all his acts should be confirmed, and that his son, and we his friends, both generals and soldiers, should remain in perfect safety and enjoy a life of honor instead of ignominy.

Think you that I asked few or small things from the Senate in exchange for the amnesty, or that the Senate would have made these concessions without the amnesty? If this exchange had been made in all sincerity it would have been a fair bargain to actually spare the murderers for the sake of Caesar’s immortal glory and our complete security, but in fact I did it not with that intention, but in order to gain time. Accordingly, as soon as I had obtained what I wanted from the Senate, and the murderers were freed from anxiety, I took fresh courage and undermined the amnesty, not by votes, not by decrees (for that was impossible), but by working on the people imperceptibly. I brought Caesar’s body into the forum under pretence of burial, I laid bare his wounds, I showed the number of them and his clothing all bloody and slashed by the knives. In public speech I dwelt on his bravery and his services to the common people in pathetic terms, weeping for him as slain and invoking him as a god. These acts and words of mine stirred up the people, kindled a fire in spite of the amnesty, sent them against the houses of our enemies, and drove the murderers from the city. How much the Senate was thwarted and grieved by this was presently shown when they blamed me for exciting the people and sent the murderers away to take command of provinces, Brutus and Cassius to Syria and Macedonia, which were provided with great armies, telling them to hasten before the appointed time, under pretence of looking after the corn supply. And now another and still greater fear took possession of me (as I had no military force of my own anywhere), lest we should be exposed without arms to the assaults of so many armed men. I suspected my colleague also because he was always at variance with me. He had pretended to be in the conspiracy against Caesar and he had proposed that the day of the murder should be celebrated as the birthday of the republic.

While I was at a loss what to do, desiring to disarm our enemies and to arm ourselves instead, I put Amatius to death and recalled Sextus Pompeius in order to entrap the Senate again and bring it over to my side. But as even then I had no confidence in it I persuaded Dolabella to ask for the province of Syria, not from the Senate, but from the people by a law, and I favored his petition so that he should become an enemy instead of a friend of the murderers, and so that the senators should be ashamed to refuse me Macedonia afterwards. Still, the Senate would not have assigned Macedonia to me, even after Dolabella had been provided for, by reason of the army belonging to it, if I had not previously transferred the army to Dolabella, as the war against the Parthians fell to the lot of the one governing Syria. But they would not have taken Macedonia and Syria away from Brutus and Cassius unless other provinces had been obtained for them to ensure their safety. When it became necessary to make them a recompense, look at the quid pro quo that was given to them — Cyrene and Crete, devoid of troops, provinces which even our enemies despise as not sufficient for their safety; and they are now trying to seize by force those that were taken from them. Thus in fact was the army transferred from our enemies to Dolabella by artifice, by stratagem, by exchange; for when there was no way to gain our end openly by arms we had necessarily to have recourse to the laws.

After these events our enemies had raised another army and it became needful for me to have the one in Macedonia; but I was in want of a pretext. A rumor gained currency that the Getae were ravaging Macedonia. This was disbelieved, and while messengers were sent to make inquiry I brought forward the decree about the dictatorship, providing that it should not be lawful to speak of it, to vote for it, or to accept it if offered. The senators were particularly taken with this proposal and they gave me the army. Then for the first time I considered myself on an equality with my enemies, not merely with the open ones [as Octavius thinks], but with the more numerous and powerful ones who still choose to remain secret. When I had accomplished these plans there remained one of the murderers on my flank, Decimus Brutus, who governed a conveniently placed province with a large army, whom I, knowing him to be bolder than the rest, have deprived of Cisalpine Gaul, by promising, in order to keep up appearances with the Senate, to give him in exchange Macedonia, when it has lost its army. The Senate was indignant, for it now perceived the stratagem, and you know what kind of letters, and how many, they are writing to Decimus, and how they are inciting my successors in the consulship. I decided to take a bolder course and ask the people for this province by a law, instead of asking the Senate, and I brought my army from Macedonia to Brundusium so that I might use it in emergencies. And, with the help of the gods, we will use it as may be needful.

Thus have we changed from the great fear that formerly beset us to a state of entire safety for ourselves, where we can boldly face our foes. When these facts became known the multitude showed their zeal against our enemies. You see how the latter regret the decrees that have been passed and what a fight they are making to deprive me of the Gallic province which has already been given to me. You know what they have written to Decimus and how they are urging my successors in the consulship to get the law relating to this province changed. But with the help of our country’s gods, and with pious intent, and by means of your valor, with which Caesar also conquered, we will avenge him, devoting to that purpose our powers of body and of mind. While these events were in progress, fellow-soldiers, I preferred that they should not be talked of; now that they are accomplished I have laid them before you, whom I shall make the sharers of my deeds and my counsels in every particular hereafter. Communicate to others, if there are any, who do not see them in the same light — excepting only Octavius, who behaves ungratefully toward us.

These words of Antony convinced the tribunes that in all he had done he had been moved by bitter animosity toward the murderers and that he had been scheming against the Senate. Nevertheless they urged him to come to an agreement with Octavius; and as both yielded they formed a new alliance in the Capitol. Not long afterward Antony announced to his friends that some of his body-guard had been tampered with by Octavius, who had formed a plot against him. This he said either as a slander, or because he believed it to be true, or because he had heard of the emissaries of Octavius in his camp and thought they were actually plotting against his life. When this story was noised about there was a general tumult forthwith and great indignation, for there were few who had sufficient penetration to see that it was for the interest of Octavius that Antony, even though he were unjust to him, should live, because he (Antony) was a terror to the murderers. If he were dead they would quite fearlessly dare anything, especially as they had the support of the Senate. The more intelligent knew this, but the greater part, seeing what Octavius suffered daily from the indignities and the losses inflicted on him, considered the accusation not incredible, yet held it to be impious and intolerable that a conspiracy should be formed against Antony’s life while he was consul. Octavius ran with mad fury to those who held this opinion of him, exclaiming that it was Antony that had conspired against him to alienate from him the friendship of the people, which was the only thing left to him. He ran to Antony’s door and repeated the same things, calling the gods to witness, taking all kinds of oaths, and inviting Antony to a judicial investigation. As nobody came forward he said, I will accept your friends as judges. With these words he attempted to enter the house. Being prevented from doing so he again cried out and railed at Antony and vented his wrath against the doorkeepers who restrained him from having a dispute with Antony. Then he went away and called the people to witness that if anything should happen to him his death would be due to Antony’s plots. As these words were spoken with deep feeling the multitude underwent a change, and a kind of penitence took the place of their former opinion. There were some who still doubted, and hesitated to put faith in either of them. Some accused them both of making false pretences, believing that they had come to an agreement in the temple, and that these were plots devised against their enemies. Still others thought that this was a device of Antony to increase his body-guard. or to alienate the veterans from Octavius.

Presently news was brought to Octavius by his secret emissaries that the army at Brundusium and the colonized soldiers were incensed against Antony for neglecting to avenge the murder of Caesar, and that they would assist him (Octavius) to do so if they could. For this reason Antony departed to Brundusium. As Octavius feared lest Antony, returning with the army, should catch him unprotected he went to Campania with money to enlist the veterans who had been colonized in those towns by his father. He first brought over those of Calatia and next those of Casilinum, two towns situated on either side of Capua, giving 500 drachmas to each man. He collected about 10,000 men, not fully armed and not mustered in regular cohorts, but serving merely as a body-guard under one banner The citizens of Rome were alarmed at the approach of Antony with an army, and when they learned that Octavius was advancing with another one some were doubly alarmed, while others were well pleased, believing that they could make use of Octavius against Antony. Still others, who had seen them reconciled to each other in the Capitol, considered these transactions a game of false pretences by which Antony was to have the supreme power and Octavius was to wreak vengeance on the murderers in return therefor.

In this time of consternation Canutius, a tribune of the people and enemy of Antony, and hence friendly to Octavius, went to meet the latter. Having learned his intentions Canutius addressed the people, saying that Octavius was advancing with real hostility to Antony and that those who were afraid that Antony was aiming at tyranny should side with Octavius as they had no other army at present. After speaking thus he brought in Octavius, who was encamped before the city at the temple of Mars, fifteen stades distant. When the latter arrived he proceeded to the temple of Castor and Pollux, which his soldiers surrounded carrying concealed daggers. Canutius addressed the people first, speaking against Antony. Octavius also reminded them of his father and of what he had himself suffered at the hands of Antony, on account of which he had enlisted this army as a guard for himself. He declared himself the obedient servant of his country in all things, and said that he was ready to confront Antony in the present emergency.

After he had thus spoken and the assembly had been dissolved, the soldiers, taking the opposite view (that they had come to support the alliance of Antony and Octavius or as a mere guard for the latter and to punish the murderers), were vexed at the declaration of war against Antony, who had been their general and was now consul. Some of them asked leave to return home in order to arm themselves, saying that they could not perform their duty with other arms than their own. Others spoke out the truth. As things had turned out contrary to his expectation, Octavius was at a loss what to do. Hoping, however, to retain them by persuasion rather than by force he yielded to their requests, and sent some of them to get their arms and others simply to their homes. Concealing his disappointment he praised all of the assembled multitude, gave them new presents, and said that he would reward them still more generously, for he made use of them for emergencies rather as the friends of his father than as soldiers. After he had spoken these words, from 10,000 he influenced 1000 only to remain with him, or perhaps 3000, for accounts differ as to the number. The rest then took their departure, but presently they remembered the toils of agriculture and the gains of military service, the words of Octavius, his compliance with their wishes, and the favors they had received and hoped still to receive from him. And so, like the fickle multitude, they repented, and seizing upon their former pretext for the sake of appearances, they armed themselves and went back to him. Octavius had already proceeded with new supplies of money to Ravenna and the neighboring parts, enlisting new forces continually and sending them all to Arretium.

In the meantime four of the five Macedonian legions had joined Antony at Brundusium. They blamed him because he had not proceeded against the murderers of Caesar. They conducted him without applause to the platform, implying that they required explanations on this subject first. Antony was angry at their silence. He did not keep his temper, but charged them with ingratitude in that they had expressed no thanks for being transferred from the Parthian expedition to Italy. He blamed them because they had not arrested and delivered to him the emissaries of a rash boy (for so he called Octavius) who had been sent among them to stir up discord. But he would find them out, he said. He would lead the army to the province voted to him, the fair Gallic country, and would give 100 drachmas to each man present. They laughed at his parsimony, and when he became angry they broke out in tumult and went away. Antony rose and departed, saying, You shall learn to obey orders. Then he required the military tribunes to bring before him the fomenters of the sedition (for it is customary in Roman armies to keep at all times a record of the character of each man). From these he chose by lot a certain number according to military law, and he put to death not every tenth man, but a smaller number, thinking to strike terror into the rest by means of the few. But the others were turned to rage and hatred instead of fear by this act.

In view of these facts the men whom Octavius had sent to tamper with the soldiers distributed the greatest possible number of handbills throughout the camp, reflecting on Antony’s stinginess and cruelty, recalling the memory of the elder Caesar and urging them to share the service of the younger one and his liberal gifts. Antony tried to find these emissaries by means of rewards to informers and threats against those who abetted them, but as he caught no one he became angry, believing that the soldiers concealed them. When the news came of what Octavius was doing among the colonized veterans and at Rome, he became alarmed, and going before the army again he said that he was sorry for what he had been compelled by military discipline to do to a few instead of the much larger number who were punishable by law, and that they must know very well that Antony was neither cruel nor stingy. Let us lay aside ill-will, he continued, and rest satisfied with these faults and punishments. The 100 drachmas which I have ordered to be given you is not my donative, for that would be unworthy of the fortune of Antony, but rather the salutation of our first meeting than a full reward, but it is necessary to obey the laws of our country, and of the army, in this affair as in all others. When he had thus spoken he did not as yet add anything to the donative, that it might not seem that as general he had yielded anything to the army. Whether moved by penitence or by fear they took what was given them. Antony, being still angry at the outbreak, or from some other suspicion, changed their tribunes. The remainder he treated well because he had need of their services, and he sent them forward by detachments along the sea-coast toward Ariminum.

Antony chose from the whole number a praetorian cohort of the men who were best in body and character and marched to Rome, intending to push on thence toward Ariminum. He entered the city in a haughty manner leaving his squadron of horse encamped outside the walls. But the troops that accompanied him were girded as for war, and they mounted guard over his house at night under arms, and he gave them a countersign and relieved them regularly, just as in a camp. He convoked the Senate in order to make complaint of the acts of Octavius, and just as he was entering it he learned that the so-called Martian legion, one of the four on the road, had gone over to Octavius. While he was waiting at the entrance cogitating over this news it was announced to him that another legion, called the Fourth, had followed the example of the Martian and espoused the side of Octavius. Disconcerted as he was he entered the senate-house, pretending that he had convened them about other matters, said a few words, and immediately departed to the city gates, and thence to the town of Alba, in order to persuade the deserters to come back to him. They shot arrows at him from the walls, and he retreated. To the other legions he forwarded 500 drachmas per man. With the soldiers he had with him he marched to Tibur, taking the apparatus customary to those who are going to war; for war was now certain, since Decimus Brutus had refused to give up Cisalpine Gaul.

While Antony was at Tibur nearly all the Senate, and the greater part of the knights, and the most influential plebeians, came there to do him honor. These persons, arriving while he was swearing into his service the soldiers present and also the discharged veterans who had flocked in (of whom there was a goodly number), voluntarily joined in taking the oath that they would not fail in friendship and fidelity to Antony; so that one would have been at a loss to know who were the men who, a little before, had decried Antony at Octavius’ public meeting. With this brilliant send-off Antony started for Ariminum, which lies on the border of Cisalpine Gaul. His army, exclusive of the new levies, consisted of three legions summoned from Macedonia (for the remainder had now arrived). There were also some discharged veterans, old men, who appeared nevertheless to be worth twice as much as the new levies. Thus Antony had four legions of well-disciplined troops, and the helpers who usually accompanied them, besides his body-guard and the new levies. Lepidus in Spain with four legions, Asinius Pollio with two, and Plancus in Transalpine Gaul with three, seemed likely to espouse the side of Antony.

Octavius had two legions equally efficient, which had deserted from Antony to him, also one legion of new levies and two of discharged veterans, not complete in numbers or in arms, but filled up with new recruits. He brought them all to Alba and there communicated with the Senate, which congratulated him in such a way that now one would have been at a loss to know who were those who had lately ranged themselves with Antony; but it regretted that the legions had not come over to the Senate itself instead of to him. It praised them and Octavius nevertheless, and said that it would vote them whatever was needful as soon as the new magistrates should enter upon their duties. It was plain that the Senate would use these forces against Antony; but having no army of its own anywhere, and being unable to levy one without consuls, it adjourned all business until the new consuls should come in.

The soldiers of Octavius furnished him lictors provided with fasces and urged him to assume the title of propraetor, carrying on war and leading themselves, since they were always marshalled under magistrates. He thanked them for the honor, but referred the matter to the Senate. When they wanted to go before the Senate en masse he prevented them and would not even allow them to send messengers, believing that the Senate would vote these things to him voluntarily; and would do this all the more, he said, if they know of your zeal and my hesitation. They were reconciled to this course with difficulty. The leading officers complained that he disdained them, and he explained to them that the Senate was moved not so much by good-will toward him as by fear of Antony and the want of an army; and that will be the case, he continued, until we humble Antony, and until the murderers, who are friends and relatives of the senators, collect a military force for them. Knowing these facts I falsely pretend to be serving them. Let us not be the first to expose this false pretence. If we usurp the office they will accuse us of arrogance and violence, whereas if we are modest they will probably give it of their own accord, fearing lest I accept it from you. After he had thus spoken he witnessed some military exercises of the two legions that had deserted from Antony, who ranged themselves opposite each other and gave a complete representation of a battle, except only the killing. Octavius was delighted with the spectacle and was pleased to make this a pretext for distributing 500 drachmas more to each man, and he promised that in case of war he would give them 5000 drachmas each if they were victorious. Thus, by means of lavish gifts, did Octavius bind these mercenaries to himself. Such was the course of events in Italy.

In Cisalpine Gaul Antony ordered Decimus Brutus to withdraw to Macedonia in obedience to the decree of the Roman people, and for his own good. Decimus, in reply, sent him the letters that had been furnished him by the Senate, as much as to say that he cared no more for the command of the people than Antony did for that of the Senate. Antony then fixed a day for his compliance, after which he should treat him as an enemy. Decimus advised him to fix a later day lest he (Antony) should too soon make himself an enemy to the Senate. Although Antony could have easily overcome him, as he was still in the open country, he decided to proceed first against the cities. These opened their gates to him. Decimus, fearing lest none of them should be opened to him, fabricated letters from the Senate calling him to Rome with his army and retired towards Italy, welcomed by all as he passed along, until he arrived at the wealthy city of Mutina. Here he closed the gates and possessed himself of the property of the inhabitants for the support of his army. He slaughtered and salted all the cattle he could find there in anticipation of a long siege, and he awaited Antony. His army consisted of a large number of gladiators and three legions of infantry, one of which was composed of new recruits as yet inexperienced. The other two had served under him before and were entirely trustworthy. Antony advanced against him with fury, drew a line of circumvallation around Mutina, and laid siege to Decimus.

In Rome, at the beginning of the new year, the consuls, Hirtius and Pansa, convened the Senate on the subject of Antony immediately after the sacrifices had been performed and in the very temple. Cicero and his friends urged that Antony be now declared a public enemy, since he had seized Cisalpine Gaul with an armed force against the will of the Senate and made of it a point of attack on the republic, and had brought into Italy an army given to him to operate against the Thracians. They spoke also of his seeking the supreme power as Caesar’s successor, because he publicly surrounded himself in the city with such a large body of armed centurions, and converted his house into a fortress with arms and countersigns, and had borne himself more haughtily in other respects than was befitting a yearly magistrate. Lucius Piso, who had charge of Antony’s interests in his absence, a man among the most illustrious in Rome, and others who sided with him on his own account, or on Antony’s, or because of their own opinion, contended that Antony ought to have a trial, that it was not the custom of their ancestors to condemn a man unheard, that it was not decent to declare a man an enemy to-day who was a consul yesterday, and especially one whom Cicero himself as well as the rest had so often lavishly praised. The Senate, which was about equally divided in opinion, remained in session till night. Early the next morning it reassembled to consider the same question and then the party of Cicero was in the majority and Antony would have been voted a public enemy had not the tribune Salvius adjourned the sitting to the following day; for among the magistrates the one who has the veto power always prevails.

The Ciceronians heaped gross reproaches and insults on Salvius for this, and sallied out among the plebeians to excite them against him and summoned him to answer before them. He set forth to obey the summons undismayed until he was restrained by the Senate, which feared lest he should change the people around by recalling Antony to their memory; for the senators well knew that they were condemning an illustrious man without a trial, and that the people had given him this very Gallic province. But since they feared for the safety of the murderers they were angry with Antony because he had made the first movement against them after the amnesty, for which reason the Senate had previously needed the help of Octavius against him. Although Octavius knew this he desired nevertheless to take the lead in humbling Antony. Such were the reasons why the Senate was angry with Antony. Although the vote on him was adjourned by the command of the tribune, they passed a decree praising Decimus for not abandoning Cisalpine Gaul to Antony, and directing Octavius to assist the consuls, Hirtius and Pansa, with the army he now had. They awarded him a gilded statue and the right to declare his opinion among the consulars in the Senate even now, and the right to stand for the consulship itself ten years before the legal period, and voted from the public treasury to the legions that deserted from Antony to him the same amount that he had promised to give them if they should be victorious. After passing these decrees they adjourned, thinking that Antony would in fact know from the votes taken that he was declared a public enemy and believing, also, that on the following day the tribune would no longer interpose his veto. The mother, the wife, and the son of Antony (who was still a young man), and his other relatives and friends went around the whole night visiting the houses of influential men and beseeching them. In the morning they put themselves in the way of those going to the senate-house, fell at their feet with wailing and lamentation and in mourning garments, crying out alongside the doors. Some of the senators were moved by these cries, this spectacle, this so sudden change of fortune. Cicero, fearing the result, addressed the Senate as follows: —

What decision ought to be reached concerning Antony we determined yesterday. When we bestowed honors on his enemies we thereby voted him an enemy. Salvius, who alone interrupted the proceedings, must either have been wiser than all the rest, or moved to do so by private friendship, or by ignorance of present circumstances. It would be most disgraceful to us, on the one hand, if all should seem to know less than one, and to Salvius, on the other hand, if he should prefer private friendship to the public weal. If he is not well acquainted with the present circumstances he ought to repose confidence in the consuls, rather than in himself, in the praetors, in his fellow-tribunes, and the other senators, so imposing in dignity and in numbers, so much his superiors in age and experience, who have condemned Antony. In our elections and in our jury trials justice is ever on the side of the majority. If it be needful still to acquaint him with the reasons for our action I will briefly recount the principal ones by way of reminder. At Caesar’s death Antony possessed himself of our money. Having been invested with the government of Macedonia by us he seized upon that of Cisalpine Gaul without our authority. Having received an army to operate against the Thracians he brought it into Italy against us instead. Each of these powers with his own secret motives he asked from us, and when they were refused he acted on his own authority. At Brundusium he organized a royal cohort for his own use and openly made men-at-arms his private guards and night watchmen, serving under a countersign. The whole remainder of the army he led from Brundusium to the city, aiming by a shorter path at the same designs that Caesar contemplated. Being anticipated by the younger Caesar and his army he became alarmed and turned his course to the Gallic province as a convenient point of attack on us, just as Caesar found it when he made himself our master.

In order to intimidate the soldiers to do every unlawful act he should order, he decimated them although they had not revolted and had not abandoned their watch or their ranks in time of war, for which offences alone military law allows such cruel punishment, which only a few generals have visited upon their soldiers and with reluctance, in cases of extreme peril, as a matter of necessity. These citizens Antony put to death for a word or a laugh when they had not been regularly condemned but chosen by lot. For this reason those who could do so revolted from him, and you yesterday voted them a donative as well-doers. Those who could not desert joined him in wrong-doing under the influence of fear, marched against our province as enemies, and besieged our army and our general, to whom you sent letters directing him to hold the province. Antony now orders him to evacuate it. Are we voting Antony an enemy, or is he already making war against us? And these things our tribune is still ignorant of, and will remain so until Decimus is overthrown and this great province on our border, together with the army of Decimus, is added to the resources with which Antony hopes to attack us. I suppose that the tribune will vote Antony an enemy as soon as the latter becomes more powerful than we are.

Scarcely had Cicero finished speaking when his friends broke forth in such tumultuous applause that for a long time nobody could be heard on the other side, until finally Piso came forward, when the senators, out of respect for him, became silent and even the Ciceronians restrained themselves. Then Piso said: Our law, Conscript Fathers, requires that the accused shall himself hear the charge preferred against him and shall be judged after he has made his own defence; and for the truth of this I appeal to Cicero, our greatest orator. Since he hesitates to accuse Antony when present, but brings against him in his absence certain charges which he considers of the greatest gravity, and not open to doubt, I have come forward to show, in the fewest words, that these charges are false. He says that Antony converted the public money to his own use after Caesar’s death. The law declares such a person to be a thief, not a public enemy, and limits his punishment accordingly. After Brutus had killed Caesar he accused the latter before the people of plundering the public money and leaving the treasury empty. Soon afterward Antony proposed a decree to investigate these matters and you adopted and confirmed his motion and promised a reward of one-tenth to informers, which reward we will double if anybody will prove that Antony had any part in the fraud. So much for the charge in reference to money.

We did not vote the governorship of Cisalpine Gaul to Antony. The people gave it to him by a law, Cicero being present; just as other provinces had often been given, and as this same governorship had previously been given to Caesar. It was a part of this law that, when Antony should arrive at the province given to him, if Decimus would not yield it Antony should declare war and lead the army into the Gallic province against him, instead of using it against the Thracians, who were still quiet. But Cicero does not consider Decimus, who is bearing arms against the law, an enemy, although he considers Antony an enemy who is fighting in accordance with law. He who accuses the law itself accuses the authors of the law, whom he ought to change by persuasion, not to insult after having himself agreed with them. He ought not to intrust the province to Decimus, whom the people drove out of the city on account of the murder, while refusing to intrust to Antony what the people gave to him. It is not the part of good counsellors to be at variance with the people, especially in times of danger, or to forget that this very power of deciding who are friends and who are enemies formerly belonged to the people. According to the ancient laws the people are the sole arbiters of peace and war. Heaven grant that they may not be reminded of this, and consequently be angry with us when they have found a leader.

But it is said that Antony put certain soldiers to death. Being commander-in-chief he was empowered to do so by you. No commander has ever rendered an account of such matters. The laws do not consider it expedient that the general should be answerable to his soldiers. There is nothing worse in an army than disobedience, on account of which some soldiers have been put to death even after a victory, and no one called to account those who killed them. None of their relatives complain now, but Cicero complains and while accusing Antony of murder stigmatizes him as a public enemy, instead of calling for the punishment prescribed for murderers. The desertion of two of his legions shows how insubordinate and arrogant Antony’s army was—which legions you had voted that he should command, and who deserted, in violation of military law, not to you, but to Octavius. Nevertheless Cicero praised them and yesterday proposed that they be paid out of the public treasury. Heaven grant that this example may not plague you hereafter. Hatred has betrayed Cicero into inconsistency, for he accused Antony of aiming at supreme power and yet punishing his soldiers, whereas such conspirators are always lenient, not severe, toward the men serving under them. As Cicero does not hesitate to arraign as tyrannical all the rest of Antony’s administration since Caesar’s death, come, let me examine his acts one by one.

Whom has Antony put to death in a tyrannical manner without trial—he who is now in danger of being condemned unheard? Whom has he banished from the city? Whom has he slandered in our presence? Or, if innocent toward us individually, has he conspired against all of us collectively? When, O Cicero? Was it when he carried through the Senate the act of amnesty for the past? Was it when he abstained from prosecuting anybody for the murder? Was it when he moved an investigation of the public moneys? Was it when he proposed the recall of Sextus Pompey, the son of your Pompey, and payment for his father’s confiscated property out of the public treasury? Was it when he seized that conspirator, the false Marius, and put him to death, and you all applauded? And because you did so it was the only act of Antony that Cicero did not calumniate. Was it when he brought in a decree that nobody should ever propose a dictatorship, or vote for it, and that anybody disobeying the decree might be killed with impunity by any one who wished? These are the public acts that Antony performed for us during two months the only months that he remained in the city after Caesar’s death, the very time when the people were pursuing the murderers and you were apprehensive of the future. If he were a villain what better opportunity could he have had? But it is said that he was not in a condition to do otherwise. How? Did he not exercise the sole authority after Dolabella departed for Syria? Did he not have an armed force in readiness in the city, one that you gave him? Did he not patrol the city by night? Was he not guarded at night against any conspiracy of his enemies? Did he not have an excuse for this in the murder of Caesar, his friend and benefactor, the man most beloved by the common people? Did he not have another of a personal kind in the fact that the murderers conspired against his life also? None of them did he kill or banish, but pardoned them what he could in decency, and did not begrudge them the governorships that were offered to them. Ye behold then, O Romans, these very grave and indisputable charges of Cicero against Antony.

Since, in addition to charges, surmises are introduced to the effect that Antony was about to lead an army to the city, but became alarmed because Octavius had anticipated him with another army, how does it happen that when the mere intention to do this makes a man an enemy the one who actually comes and encamps alongside of us without authority is not considered an enemy? What would have prevented Antony from coming if he had wanted to? With 30,000 troops in line was he afraid of Octavius’ 3000, half-armed, unorganized, who had come together merely to gain his friendship, and who left him as soon as they knew that he had chosen them for war? If Antony was afraid to come with 30,000 how did he dare to come with only 1000? With these what a crowd of us accompanied him to Tibur! What a crowd of us voluntarily joined the soldiers in taking the oath of fidelity to him! What praises did Cicero lavish on his acts and virtues! If Antony himself contemplated any such thing [as invasion] why did he leave as pledges in our hands his mother, his wife, and his grown up son, who are even now at the door of the Senate weeping and fearful, not on account of what Antony has done, but on account of the overwhelming power of his enemies.

These facts furnish you an example of Antony’s defence and of Cicero’s fickleness. I will add an exhortation to right-minded men, not to do injustice to the people or to Antony, not to expose the public interests to new enmities and dangers while the commonwealth is sick and in want of timely defenders, but to establish a sufficient force in the city to ward off danger before breeding disorder outside, to provide against attacks from every quarter, and to come to such decisions as you please when you are able to carry them into effect. How shall these ends be accomplished? By allowing Antony, as a matter of policy, or for the sake of the people, to have Cisalpine Gaul. Call Decimus thence with his three legions, and when he comes send him to Macedonia, retaining his legions here. If the two legions that deserted from Antony deserted to us, as Cicero says, let us summon them also from Octavius to the city. Thus with five legions sustaining us we might pass such decrees as we think best with entire confidence, depending on the favor of no man.

I have addressed these words to men who listen to me without malice or the spirit of contention. Those who would excite you heedlessly and inconsiderately on account of private enmity and private strife I exhort not to come to hasty and rash decisions against the most important personages, who command strong armies, and not to force them into war against their will. Remember Marcius Coriolanus. Recall the recent doings of Caesar, whom we rashly voted an enemy while he was in like manner leading an army and offering us the fairest terms of peace, whereby we forced him to be an enemy in fact. Have regard for the people who were lately pursuing Caesar’s murderers, lest we seem to insult them by giving those murderers the governorship of provinces, by praising Decimus for nullifying the people’s law, and by voting Antony an enemy because he accepted the Gallic province from the people. For which reasons the well-wishers of the country ought to take thought for the erring, and the consuls and tribunes ought to be more than ever careful in view of the public dangers.

Thus did Piso defend Antony, reproaching his enemies and alarming them. He was evidently the cause of their not voting Antony an enemy. Nevertheless, he did not succeed in securing for him the governorship of the Gallic province. The friends and relatives of the murderers prevented it, fearing lest, at the end of the war, Antony should join Octavius in avenging the murder, for which reason they meant to keep Octavius and Antony always at variance with each other. They voted to offer Antony Macedonia instead of the Gallic province, and they ordered, either heedlessly or designedly, that the other commands of the Senate be reduced to writing by Cicero and delivered to the ambassadors. Cicero altered the decree and wrote as follows: Antony must raise the siege of Mutina forthwith, relinquish Cisalpine Gaul to Decimus, withdraw to the hither side of the river Rubicon (which forms the boundary between Italy and the province) before a specified day, and submit himself in all things to the Senate. Thus provokingly and falsely did Cicero write the orders of the Senate, not by reason of an underlying hostility, as it seems, but at the instigation of some evil spirit that was goading the republic to revolution and meditating destruction to Cicero himself. The remains of Trebonius having been lately brought home and the indignities visited upon them more carefully inquired into, the Senate with little opposition declared Dolabella a public enemy.

The ambassadors who had been sent to Antony, ashamed of the extraordinary character of the orders, said nothing, but simply delivered them to him. Antony in his wrath indulged in many invectives against the Senate and Cicero. He was astonished, he said, that they should consider Caesar (the man who had contributed most to the Roman sway) a tyrant and a king, and did not so consider Cicero, whom Caesar had captured in war and whose life he had spared, while Cicero in return now prefers Caesar’s assassins to his friends. He hated Decimus as long as the latter was the friend of Caesar, but loves him now that he has become his murderer. He favors a man who took the province of Gaul after Caesar’s death without authority, and makes war on one who received it at the hands of the people. He gives rewards to those who deserted from the legions voted to me, and none to those who remain faithful, thus impairing military discipline not more to my disadvantage than to that of the state. He has given amnesty to the murderers, to which I have assented on account of two respectable men. He holds Antony and Dolabella as enemies because we keep what was given to us. That is the real reason. And if I but withdraw from Gaul, then I am neither enemy nor monarch! I declare that I will bring to naught the amnesty with which they are not satisfied.

After saying much more to the same purpose Antony wrote his reply to the decree, saying that he would obey the Senate in all respects as the voice of his country, but to Cicero, who wrote the orders, he would make the following answer: The people gave me the province of Gaul by a law, and I shall prosecute Decimus for not obeying the law, and I shall visit punishment for the murder upon him alone, as representative of them all, in order that the Senate, which now participates in the wickedness by reason of Cicero’s support of Decimus, may at last be purged of the shocking crime. These words Antony spoke and wrote in reply. The Senate immediately voted him an enemy and also the army under him if it should not abandon him. The government of Macedonia and Illyria, with the troops still remaining in both, was assigned to Marcus Brutus until the republic should be reëstablished. The latter already had an army of his own and had received some troops from Apuleius. He also had war-ships and ships of burden and about 16,000 talents in money and quantities of arms which he found in Demetrias, where they had been placed by Gaius Caesar long before, all of which the Senate now voted that he should use for the advantage of the republic. They voted that Cassius should be governor of Syria and that he should make war against Dolabella, and that all other commanders of Roman provinces and soldiers between the Adriatic sea and the Orient should obey the orders of Cassius and Brutus in all things.

Thus quickly did the Senate seize the opportunity to put the affairs of Cassius and his party in a brilliant aspect. When Octavius learned what had been done he was troubled. He had considered the amnesty in the light of an act of humanity and of pity for the relatives and compeers of these men, and that the very small commands had been given them for their safety merely; finally, the confirming of the Gallic province to Decimus seemed to him to have been done by reason of the Senate’s difference with Antony respecting the supreme power, on which ground also they were inciting him against Antony. But the voting of Dolabella an enemy because he had put one of the murderers to death, the changing of the commands of Brutus and Cassius to the largest provinces, the granting of great armies and large sums of money to them and putting them in command of all the governors beyond the Adriatic sea —all pointed plainly to the building up of the party of Pompey and the pulling down of that of Caesar. He bethought himself of their artifice in treating him as a young man, in providing him a statue and a front seat, and giving him the title of propraetor, when in fact they were taking from him what army he did have, for a proprietor has no authority when consuls are serving with him. Then the rewards voted only to those of his soldiers who had deserted from Antony to him were an indignity to those who had enlisted under him. Finally the war would be nothing but a disgrace to him, for the Senate would simply make use of him against Antony till the latter was crushed.

Meditating thus to himself he performed the sacrifices appertaining to the command assigned to him, and said to his army: I owe these honors of mine to you, fellow-soldiers, not now merely but from the time when you gave me the command; for the Senate conferred them upon me on account of you. Know, therefore, that my gratitude will be due to you for these things, and that it will be expressed to you abundantly if the gods grant success to our undertakings. In this way he conciliated the soldiers and attached them to himself. In the meantime, Pansa, one of the consuls, was collecting recruits throughout Italy, and the other one, Hirtius, shared the command of the forces with Octavius, and as he was secretly ordered to do it by the Senate he demanded as his share the two legions that had deserted from Antony, knowing that they were the most reliable in the army. Octavius yielded to him in everything and they shared with each other and went into winter quarters together. As winter advanced Decimus began to suffer from hunger, and Hirtius and Octavius advanced toward Mutina lest Antony should receive in surrender Decimus’ army now weak with famine; but as Mutina was closely hemmed in by Antony, they did not venture to come to close quarters with him at once, but waited for Pansa. There were frequent cavalry engagements, as Antony had a much larger force of horse, but the difficulty of the ground, which was cut up by torrents, deprived him of the advantage of numbers.

Such was the course of events around Mutina. At Rome, in the absence of the consuls, Cicero took the lead by public speaking. He held frequent assemblies, procured arms by inducing the artificers to work without pay, collected money, and exacted heavy contributions from the Antonians. These paid without complaining in order to avoid calumny, until Publius Ventidius, who had served under Gaius Caesar and was a friend of Antony, unable to endure the exactions of Cicero, betook himself to Caesar’s colonies, where he was well known, and raised two legions for Antony and hastened to Rome to seize Cicero. The consternation was extreme. They removed most of the women and children in a panic, and Cicero himself fled from the city. When Ventidius learned this he turned his course toward Antony, but being intercepted by Octavius and Hirtius, he proceeded to Picenum, where he recruited another legion and waited to see what would happen. When Pansa was drawing near with his army, Octavius and Hirtius sent Carsuleius to him with Octavius’ praetorian cohort and the Martian legion to assist him in passing through a defile. Antony had disdained to occupy the defile as it served no other purpose than to hinder the enemy; but, eager to fight, and having no chance to win distinction with his cavalry, because the ground was marshy and cut by ditches, he placed his two best legions in ambush in the marsh, where they were concealed by the reeds and where the road, which had been thrown up artificially, was narrow.

Carsuleius and Pansa passed through the defile by night. At daybreak, with only the Martian legion and five other cohorts, they entered upon the road above mentioned, which was still free from enemies, and looked over the marsh on either side. There was a suspicious agitation of the bushes, then a gleaming of shields and helmets, and Antony’s praetorian cohort suddenly showed itself directly in their front. The Martian legion, surrounded on all sides and having no way to escape, ordered the new levies, if they came up, not to join in the fight lest they should cause confusion by their inexperience. The praetorians of Octavius confronted the praetorians of Antony. The other troops divided themselves in two parts and advanced into the marsh on either side, the one commanded by Pansa and the other by Carsuleius. Thus there were two battles in two marshes, and neither division could see the other by reason of the elevated road, while along the road itself the praetorian cohorts fought another battle of their own. The Antonians were determined to punish the Martians for desertion as being traitors to themselves. The Martians were equally determined to punish the Antonians for condoning the slaughter of their comrades at Brundusium. Recognizing in each other the flower of either army they hoped to decide the whole war by this single engagement. The one side was moved by shame lest its two legions should be beaten by one; the other by ambition that its single legion should overcome the two.

Thus urged on rather by their own animosity and ambition than by their generals they assailed each other, considering this their own affair. Being veterans they raised no battle-cry, since they could not expect to terrify each other, nor in the engagement did they utter a sound, either as victors or vanquished. As there could be neither flanking nor charging in marshes and ditches, they stood together in close order, and since neither could dislodge the other they locked together with their swords as in a wrestling match. No blow missed its mark. There were wounds and slaughter but no cries, only groans; and when one fell he was instantly borne away and another took his place. They needed neither admonition nor encouragement, since experience had made each one his own general. When they were overcome by fatigue they drew apart from each other for a brief space to take breath, as in gymnastic games, and then rushed again to the encounter. Amazement took possession of the new levies who had come up, as they beheld such deeds done with such precision and in such silence.

All put forth superhuman exertions, and the praetorians of Octavius perished to the last man. Those of the Martians who were under Carsuleius got the better of those opposed to them, who gave way, not in disgraceful rout, but little by little. Those under Pansa were likewise in difficulties, but they held out with equal bravery on both sides until Pansa was wounded in the abdomen by a javelin and carried off the field to Bononia. Then his soldiers retired, at first step by step, but afterward they turned and took refuge in flight. When the new levies saw this they fled in disorder, and with loud cries, to their camp, which the quaestor, Torquatus, had put in readiness for them while the battle was in progress, apprehending that it might be needed. The new levies dashed into it confusedly although they were Italians, the same as the Martians, so much more than race does training contribute to bravery. The Martians for fear of shame did not enter into the camp, but ranged themselves near it. Although fatigued they were still furious and ready to fight to the bitter end if anybody should attack them. Antony refrained from the attack as a bad job, but he fell upon the new levies and made a great slaughter.

When Hirtius near Mutina heard of this fight, at a distance of sixty stades, he hurried thither with the other legion that had deserted from Antony. It was already evening and the victorious Antonians were returning singing hymns of triumph. While they were in loose order Hirtius made his appearance in perfect order with his legion complete and fresh. The Antonians got themselves in line under compulsion, and performed against this foe also many splendid deeds of valor; but being wearied by their recent exertions they were overcome by the fresh army opposed to them, and the greater part of them were slain in this encounter by Hirtius, although the latter did not pursue, being apprehensive of the marshy ground. As darkness was coming on he allowed them to escape. A wide stretch of the marsh was filled with arms, corpses, wounded men, and half-dead men. Some were unhurt but were overcome by fatigue. Antony’s cavalry, as many as he had with him, went to their assistance and collected them through the entire night. Some they put on horse-back in their own places, others they took on the horses with themselves, still others they urged to take hold of the horses’ tails and run along with them and so secure their safety. Thus were Antony’s forces, after he had fought splendidly, scattered by the coming of Hirtius. He encamped without entrenchments in a village near the plain, named Forum Gallorum. Antony and Pansa each lost about one-half of their men. The whole of Octavius’ praetorian cohort perished. The loss of Hirtius was slight.

The next day they all withdrew to the camps at Mutina. After so severe a disaster Antony decided not to come to a general engagement with his enemies at present, not even if they should attack him, but merely to harass them daily with his cavalry until Decimus, who was reduced to extremity by famine, should surrender. For this very reason Hirtius and Octavius decided to push on a fight. As Antony would not come out when they offered battle, they moved toward the other side of Mutina where it was less closely besieged on account of the badness of the ground, as if about to force their way into the town with their strong army. Antony followed their movement with his cavalry and this time also with those alone. As the enemy fought him with their cavalry only, moving the rest of their army in whatever way they chose, Antony, lest he should lose Mutina, drew out of his entrenchments two legions. Then his enemies rejoiced at this, turned and delivered battle. Antony ordered up other legions from other camps, but as they came slowly, by reason of the suddenness of the call or the long distance, the army of Octavius won the victory. Hirtius even broke into Antony’s camp, where he was killed, fighting near the general’s tent. Octavius rushed in and carried off his body and possessed himself of the camp. A little later he was driven out by Antony. Both sides passed the night under arms.

When Antony had suffered this second defeat, he took counsel with his friends directly after the battle. They advised him to adhere to his first resolution, to continue the siege of Mutina and not to go out and fight, saying that the losses had been about equal on both sides, Hirtius having been killed and Pansa wounded; that he (Antony) was superior in cavalry and that Mutina was reduced to extremity by famine and must soon succumb. Such was the advise of his friends, and it was truly for the best. But Antony, now misled by a god, was fearful lest Octavius should make another attempt to break into Mutina like that of yesterday, or even try to enclose him (Antony), as Octavius had the greater force of laborers, in which case. said he, our cavalry will be useless and Lepidus and Plancus will despise me as a vanquished man. If we withdraw from Mutina, Ventidius will presently join us with three legions from Picenum, and Lepidus and Plancus will be emboldened to ally themselves with us. So he spoke, although he was not a timid man in the presence of danger; and breaking camp forthwith he made his way toward the Alps.

When Decimus was delivered from the siege he began to be afraid of Octavius, whom, after the removal of the two consuls, he feared as an enemy. So he broke down the bridge over the river before daybreak and sent certain persons to Octavius in a boat, as if to return thanks for rescuing him, and asked that Octavius would come to the opposite bank of the river to hold a conversation with him in the presence of the citizens as witnesses, because he could convince Octavius, he said, that an evil spirit had deceived him and led him into the conspiracy against Caesar with the others. Octavius answered the messengers in a tone of anger, declining the thanks that Decimus gave him, saying: I am here not to rescue Decimus, but to fight Antony, with whom I may properly come to terms sometime, but nature forbids that I should even look at Decimus or hold any conversation with him. Let him have safety, however, as long as the authorities at Rome please. When Decimus heard this he stood on the river bank and, calling Octavius by name, read with a loud voice the letters of the Senate giving him command of the Gallic province, and forbade Octavius to cross the river without consular authority, into the government belonging to another, and not to follow Antony further, because he (Decimus) would suffice for the pursuit of the latter. Octavius knew that he was prompted to this audacious course by the Senate, and although able to seize him by giving an order, he spared him for the present and withdrew to Pansa at Bononia, where he wrote a full report to the Senate, and Pansa did likewise.

In Rome Cicero read to the people the report of the consul, and to the Senate alone that of Octavius. For the victory over Antony, he caused them to vote a thanksgiving of fifty days,— a longer festivity than the Romans had ever decreed even after the Gallic or any other war. He induced them to give the army of the consuls to Decimus, although Pansa was still alive (for his life was now despaired of), and to appoint Decimus the sole commander against Antony. Public prayers were offered that Decimus might prevail over him. Such was Cicero’s passion and want of decorum in reference to Antony. He confirmed again, to the two legions that had deserted from Antony, the 5000 drachmas per man previously promised to them as the rewards of victory, as though they had already conquered, and gave them the perpetual right to wear the olive crown at the public festivals. There was nothing about Octavius in the decrees, and his name was not even mentioned. He was forthwith disregarded as though Antony were already destroyed. They wrote to Lepidus, to Plancus, and to Asinius Pollio to fight Antony when he should draw near them. Such was the course of events at Rome.

In the meantime Pansa was dying of his wound, and he summoned Octavius to his side, and said: I loved your father as I did myself, yet I could not avenge his death, nor could I fail to unite with the majority, whom you have also done well to obey, although you have an army. At first they feared you and Antony, and especially Antony, as he seemed to be the one most ambitious to fill the rôle of Caesar, and they were delighted with your dissensions, thinking that you would mutually destroy each other. When they saw you the master of an army, they complimented you as a young man with specious and inexpensive honors. When they saw that you were more proud and self-restrained in respect of honors than they had supposed, and especially when you declined the magistracy that your army offered you, they were alarmed and they appointed you to the command with us in order that we might draw your two experienced legions away from you, hoping that when one of you was vanquished the other would be weakened and isolated, and so the whole of Caesar’s party would be effaced and that of Pompey be restored to power. This is their chief aim.

Hirtius and I did what we were ordered to do, until we could humble Antony, who was much too arrogant; but we intended when he was vanquished to bring him into alliance with you and thus to pay the debt of gratitude we owed to Caesar’s friendship, the only payment that could be serviceable to Caesar’s party hereafter. It was not possible to communicate this to you before, but now that Antony is vanquished and Hirtius dead, and I am about to pay the debt of nature, the time for speaking has come, not that you may be grateful to me after my death, but that you, born to a happy destiny, as your deeds proclaim, may know what is for your own interest, and know that the course taken by Hirtius and myself was a matter of necessity. The army that you yourself gave to us should most properly be given back to you, and I do give it. If you can take and hold the new levies, I will give you those also. If they are too much in awe of the Senate (for their officers were sent to act as spies upon us), and if the task would be an invidious one, and would create trouble for you prematurely, the quaestor Torquatus will take command of them. After speaking thus he transferred the new levies to the quaestor and expired. The quaestor transferred them to Decimus as the Senate had ordered. Octavius sent the bodies of Hirtius and Pansa with honors to Rome, where they received a public funeral.

The following events took place in Syria and Macedonia about the same time. Gaius Caesar, when he passed through Syria, left a legion there, as he was already contemplating an expedition against the Parthians. Caecilius Bassus had charge of it, but the title of commander was held by Sextus Julius, a young man related to Caesar himself, who was given over to dissipation and who led the legion around everywhere in an indecorous manner. Once when Bassus reproved him, he replied insultingly, and sometime later, when he called Bassus to him and the latter was slow in obeying, he ordered him to be dragged before him. A tumult and blows ensued. The soldiers would not tolerate the indignity and stabbed Julius. This act was followed by repentance and fear of Caesar. Accordingly, they took an oath together that they would defend themselves to the death if they were not pardoned and restored to confidence, and they compelled Bassus to take the same oath. They also enlisted and drilled another legion as associates with themselves. This is one account of Bassus, but Libo says that he belonged to the army of Pompey and that after the latter’s defeat he became a private citizen in Tyre, where he corrupted certain members of the legion, who slew Sextus and chose Bassus for their leader. However that may have been, Caesar sent Statius Marcus against him with three legions. Bassus defeated him badly. Finally, Marcus appealed to Marcius Crispus, the governor of Bithynia, and the latter came to his aid with three legions.

While Bassus was besieged by the latter, Cassius suddenly came up with them and took possession, not only of the two legions of Bassus, but also of the six that were besieging him, whose leaders surrendered in a friendly way and obeyed him as proconsul; for the Senate had decreed, as I have already said, that all [beyond the Adriatic] should obey Cassius and Brutus. Just then Allienus, who had been sent to Egypt by Dolabella, brought from that quarter four legions of soldiers dispersed by the disasters of Pompey and of Crassus, or left with Cleopatra by Caesar. Cassius surrounded him unawares in Palestine and compelled him to surrender, as he did not dare to fight with four legions against eight. Thus Cassius became the master, in a surprising way, of twelve legions, and laid siege to Dolabella, who was coming from Asia with two legions and had been received in Laodicea in a friendly manner. The Senate was delighted when it heard the news.

In Macedonia Gaius Antonius, the brother of Mark Antony, with one legion of foot soldiers, contended with Brutus, and, being inferior in strength to the latter, laid an ambuscade for him. Brutus avoided the trap, and, in his turn, laid an ambuscade, but he did no harm to those whom he caught in it, but ordered his own soldiers to salute their adversaries. Although the latter did not return the salutation or accept the courtesy he allowed them to pass out of the trap unharmed. Then he went around by other roads and confronted them again at a precipice, and again did them no harm but saluted them. Then, regarding him as a saviour of his fellow-citizens, and as one deserving the reputation he had gained for wisdom and mildness, they conceived an admiration for him, saluted him, and passed over to him. Gaius also surrendered himself and was treated with honor by Brutus until he was convicted of having tried several times to corrupt the army, when he was put to death. Thus, including his former forces, Brutus had possession of six legions, and since he approved the valor of the Macedonians he raised two legions among them, whom he drilled in the Italian discipline.

Such was the state of affairs in Syria and Macedonia. In Italy Octavius, although he considered it an insult that Decimus, instead of himself, was chosen general against Antony, concealed his indignation and asked the honors of a triumph for his exploits. Being disdained by the Senate as though he were seeking honors beyond his years, he began to fear lest if Antony were destroyed he should be despised still more, and so he desired a reconciliation with Antony, as Pansa on his death-bed had recommended to him. Accordingly, he began to make friends of those of Antony’s army who had been taken prisoners, both officers and soldiers. He enrolled them among his own troops, or if they wished to return to Antony he allowed them to do so, in order to show that he was not moved by implacable hatred against him. When he was encamped near to Ventidius, Antony’s friend, who had command of three legions, he inspired the latter with fear, but performed no hostile act, and in like manner gave him the opportunity to join himself or to go on safely with his army to Antony, and told him to chide the latter for ignoring their common interests. Ventidius took the hint and proceeded to join Antony. Octavius also allowed Decius, one of Antony’s officers, who had been taken prisoner at Mutina, and had been treated with honor, to return to Antony if he wished, and when Decius tried to find out what were his sentiments toward Antony, he said that he had given plenty of indications to persons of discernment and that more would be insufficient for fools.

After conveying these hints to Antony, Octavius wrote still more plainly to Lepidus and Asinius concerning the indignities put upon himself and the rapid advancement of the murderers, causing them to fear, lest in consequence of the favor extended to the Pompeian faction, each of the Caesarians should, one by one, share the fate of Antony, although he was suffering the consequences of his own folly and arrogance. He advised that, for the sake of appearances, they should obey the Senate, but that they should confer together for their own safety while they could still do so, and reproach Antony for his conduct; that they should follow the example of their own soldiers, who did not separate even when theywere discharged from the service but, in order that they might not be exposed to the assaults of enemies, preferred to unite their strength by settling together on ground that belonged not to them in groups, rather than enjoy their own homesteads singly. These things Octavius wrote to Lepidus and Asinius. The first soldiers of Decimus fell sick by reason of excessive eating after their famine, and suffered from dysentery, and the newer ones were still undrilled. Plancus soon joined him with his army, and then Decimus wrote to the Senate that he would pursue and capture Antony immediately.

When the Pompeians learned what had happened (and an astonishing number showed themselves to be of that party), they exclaimed that their ancestral freedom had at last been regained, and they each offered sacrifices. Decemvirs were chosen to examine the accounts of Antony’s magistracy. This was a preliminary step to annulling Caesar’s arrangements, for Antony had done little or nothing himself, but had conducted all the affairs of state in accordance with Caesar’s memoranda. The Senate knew this well, but it hoped that by finding a pretext for annulling a part of the measures it should be enabled in the same way to annul the whole. The decemvirs gave public notice that whoever had received anything from Antony’s government should make it known in writing immediately, and threatened any who should disobey. The Pompeians also sought the consulship for the remainder of the year in place of Hirtius and Pansa. But Octavius also sought it, applying not to the Senate, but to Cicero privately, whom he urged to become his colleague, saying that Cicero should carry on the government, as he was the elder and more experienced, and that he (Octavius) would enjoy the title only, by which means he could dismiss his army in a becoming manner, for which reason he had previously asked the honor of a triumph. Cicero, whose desire for office was excited by this proposal, said to the Senate that he understood that a negotiation was on foot among the generals commanding the provinces, and he advised that they should conciliate the man whom they had treated with disdain and who was still at the head of a large army, and allow him to hold office in the city, notwithstanding his youth, rather than that he should remain under arms in a hostile attitude. But lest he should do anything contrary to the interest of the Senate, Cicero proposed that some man of prudence from among the older ones should be chosen as his colleague as a firm check upon the immaturity of Octavius. The Senate laughed at Cicero’s ambition, and the relatives of the conspirators especially opposed him, fearing lest Octavius, as consul, should bring the murderers to punishment.”

For various reasons the election was postponed in accordance with the law. Meanwhile, Antony passed over the Alps with the permission of Culleo, who had been stationed there by Lepidus to guard them, and advanced to a river where the latter was encamped. He neglected to surround himself with palisade and ditch, as though he were camping alongside a friend. Messengers were going back and forth between them constantly, Antony reminding Lepidus of their friendship and of his various good offices, and showing him that after he (Antony) should be destroyed all who had enjoyed Caesar’s friendship would suffer a like fate, one by one. Lepidus feared the Senate, which had ordered him to make war on Antony, but he promised nevertheless that he would not do so voluntarily. The army of Lepidus, having respect for Antony’s dignity and perceiving the messengers going back and forth, and being gratified with the simple manners prevailing in Antony’s camp, mingled with his men, at first secretly, then openly, like fellow-citizens and fellow-soldiers, disregarding the orders of the tribunes, who forbade their doing so; and in order to facilitate their intercourse they made a bridge of boats across the river. The so-called Tenth Legion, that had been enlisted by Antony originally, arranged things for him inside the camp of Lepidus.

When Laterensis, one of the distinguished members of the Senate, perceived this he warned Lepidus. As the latter was incredulous Laterensis advised him to divide his army in several parts and send them away on certain errands in order to test whether they were faithful or not. Accordingly, Lepidus divided them in three parts, and ordered them to go out by night in order to protect some quaestors who were approaching. About the last watch the soldiers armed themselves as if for the march, seized the fortified parts of the camp, and opened the gates to Antony. The latter came running to the tent of Lepidus, whose whole army was now escorting Antony, and they besought Lepidus for peace and compassion to their unfortunate fellow-citizens. Lepidus leaped out of bed among them undressed, just as he was, promised to do what they asked, embraced Antony, and pleaded necessity as his excuse. Some say that he fell on his knees before Antony, being an inexperienced and timid man. Not all writers put faith in this report, nor do I, for he had as yet done nothing whatever inimical to Antony and nothing to cause fear. Thus did Antony again become a very powerful man and most formidable to his enemies. He had the army with which he had abandoned the siege of Mutina, including its magnificent cavalry. Ventidius had joined him on the road with three legions. Lepidus had become his ally with seven legions of foot soldiers and a great number of auxiliary troops and apparatus in proportion. Lepidus nominally retained the command of these, but Antony directed every-thing.

When these facts became known at Rome a wonderful and sudden change took place. Those who had just now held Antony in contempt were alarmed, while the fears of others were changed to courage. The edicts of the decemvirs were torn down with derision and the consular election was still further postponed. The Senate, wholly at a loss what to do and fearful lest Octavius and Antony should form an alliance, sent two of their number, Lucius and Pansa, secretly to Brutus and Cassius, under pretence of attending the games in Greece, to urge them to lend all the assistance possible. It recalled from Africa two of the three legions under Sextius, and ordered the third to be given over to Cornificius, who commanded another portion of Africa, and who favored the senatorial party. Although they knew that these legions had served under Gaius Caesar, and although they suspected everything of his, yet the want of other forces compelled them to take this course. Most awkwardly, too, they reappointed the young Octavius as general with Decimus against Antony, for they feared lest he should unite with Antony.

Octavius excited the army to anger against the Senate on account of its repeated indignities toward himself, and for requiring the soldiers to undertake a second campaign before paying them the 5000 drachmas per man which it had promised to give them for the first. He advised them to send and ask for the money. They sent their centurions. The Senate understood that the men had been advised to this course by Octavius and said that it would make answer by its own legates. It sent the latter, under instructions, to address themselves, when Octavius was not present, to the two legions which had deserted from Antony, and to advise the soldiers not to rest their hopes on a single person, but on the Senate, which alone had perpetual power, and to go to the camp of Decimus, where they would find the promised money. Having delivered this charge to the legates it forwarded one-half of the donative and appointed ten men to divide it, to whom it did not add Octavius as the eleventh. As the two legions refused to meet them without Octavius, the legates returned leaving the business unfinished. Octavius no longer held communication with the troops through the medium of others and no longer asked them to wait, but assembled the army and came before them and related to them the indignities he had suffered from the Senate, and its purpose to destroy all the friends of Gaius Caesar, one by one. He admonished them also to beware against being transferred to a general opposed to their party and sent to one war after another for the purpose of being killed or arrayed in opposition to each other. This was the reason why, after their common struggles at Mutina were ended, rewards were given to only two legions, in order to induce strife and sedition in the army.

You know, he said, the reason why Antony was lately vanquished. You have heard what the Pompeians in the city did to those who had received certain gifts from Caesar. What confidence can you have of keeping the lands and money you have received from him, or what confidence can I have in my own safety while the relatives of the murderers dominate the Senate? I shall accept my fate, whatever it may be, for it is beautiful to suffer anything in the service of a father; but I fear for you, such a host of brave men, who have incurred danger in behalf of me and my father. You know that I have been free from ambition from the time when I declined the praetorship that you offered me with the insignia of that office. I see only one path of safety now for both of us, and that is that I obtain the consulship by your help. In that case all of my father’s gifts to you will be confirmed, the colonies that are still due to you will be forthcoming, and all your rewards will be paid in full; and after bringing the murderers to punishment I will release you from any more wars.

At these words the army cheered heartily, and forthwith sent their centurions to ask the consulship for Octavius. When the Senate began to make talk about his youth, the centurions replied, as they had been instructed, that in the olden time Corvinus had held the office and at a later period the Scipios, both the elder and the younger, before the legal age, and that the country profited much from the youth of each. They instanced, as recent examples, Pompey the Great and Dolabella and said that it had been granted to Caesar himself to stand for the consulship ten years before the legal age. While the centurions were arguing with much boldness, some of the senators, who could not endure that army officers should use such freedom of speech, rebuked them for exceeding the bounds of military discipline. When the army heard of this, they were still more exasperated and demanded to be led immediately to the city, saying that they would hold a special election and elevate him to the consulship because he was Caesar’s son. At the same time they extolled the elder Caesar without stint. When Octavius saw them in this excited state, he led them directly from the assembly toward the city, eight legions of foot and a corresponding number of horse, and the auxiliary troops that were serving with the legions. Having crossed the river Rubicon from the Gallic province into Italy, — the stream that his father crossed in like manner at the beginning of the civil war, — he divided his army in two parts. One of these divisions he ordered to follow in a leisurely way. The other and better one, consisting of picked men, made forced marches, hastening in order to take the city unprepared. Meeting a convoy on the road with a part of the money which the Senate was sending as a present to the soldiers, Octavius feared the effect it might have on his mercenaries. So he secretly sent forward a force to scare away the convoy, and they took to flight with the money.

When the news of Octavius’ approach reached the city there was immense confusion and alarm. People ran hither and thither, and some conveyed their wives and children and whatever they held most dear to the fields and to the fortified parts of the city, for it was not yet known that he aimed only at securing the consulship. Having heard that an army was advancing with hostile intentions, there was nothing that they did not fear. The Senate was struck with consternation since it had no military force in readiness. As is usual in cases of panic they blamed each other. Some were blamed because they had wrongfully deprived him of the command of the campaign against Antony, others because they had treated with contempt his demand for a triumph, a request which was not without justice; others because they had envied him the honor of distributing the money; others because he had not been made an additional member of the board of ten. Still others said that the army had become hostile because the gifts voted to them had not been quickly and fully paid. They complained especially because of the inopportune time for such a strife, while Brutus and Cassius were far away and their forces not yet organized, and on their own flank in a hostile attitude were Antony and Lepidus, who, they thought, might form an alliance with Octavius. Thus their fears were greatly augmented. Cicero, who had so long taken the lead, was nowhere to be seen.

There was a sudden change on all hands. Instead of 2500 drachmas 5000 were given. Instead of two legions only, the entire eight were to be paid. Octavius was appointed to make the distribution instead of the ten commissioners, and he was allowed to be a candidate for the consulship while absent. Messengers were hastily despatched to tell him these things. Directly after they had left the city the Senate repented. It felt that it ought not to be so weakly terror-stricken, or accept a new tyranny without bloodshed, or accustom those seeking office to gain it by violence, or the soldiers to govern the country by the word of command. Rather should they arm themselves as far as possible and oppose the laws to the invaders, for there was some hope that, if the laws were opposed to them, not even they would bear arms against their country. If they should do so, it would be best to endure a siege until Decimus and Plancus should come to the rescue, and to defend themselves to the death rather than submit voluntarily to a slavery thenceforth without remedy. They recounted the high spirit and endurance in behalf of freedom of the Romans of old, who never yielded anything prejudicial to their liberty.

As the two legions sent for from Africa happened to arrive in the harbor on the same day, it seemed as though the gods were urging them to defend their freedom. Their regret for what they had done was confirmed; Cicero again made his appearance, and they repealed all of the decrees above mentioned. All who were of military age were called to arms, also the two legions from Africa, and 1000 horse with them, and another legion that Pansa had left behind, all these were assigned to their proper places. Some of them guarded the so-called hill of Janiculum, where the money was stored, others held the bridge over the Tiber, and the city praetors were put in command of the separate divisions. Others made ready small boats and ships in the harbor, together with money, in order to escape by sea in case they should be vanquished. While courageously making these hasty preparations they hoped to alarm Octavius in his turn, and induce him to seek the consulship from them instead of the army, or they hoped at least to defend themselves to the last extremity. They hoped also to change those of the opposite faction as soon as it became a contest for liberty. When they sought for the mother and sister of Octavius, and did not discover them either in any open or secret abode, they were again alarmed at finding themselves deprived of such important hostages, and as the Caesarians showed no disposition to yield to them they concluded that these women had been carefully concealed by them.

While Octavius was still giving audience to the messengers, it was announced to him that the decrees had been rescinded. The messengers thereupon withdrew, covered with confusion. With his army still more exasperated Octavius hastened to the city, fearing lest some evil should befall his mother and sister. To the plebeians, who were in a state of consternation, he sent horsemen in advance to tell them to have no fear. While all were amazed he took a position just beyond the Quirinal hill, no one daring to fight or prevent him. Now another wonderful and sudden change took place. Patricians flocked out and saluted him. The common people ran also and admired the good order of the soldiers, which they considered a sign of peace. On the following day Octavius advanced toward the city, leaving his army where it was, and having with him only a sufficient guard. Here, again, crowds met him along the whole road and saluted him, omitting nothing that savored of friendliness and weak compliance. His mother and sister, who were in the temple of Vesta with the Vestal virgins, embraced him. The three legions, in spite of their generals, sent ambassadors and transferred themselves to him. One of the generals in command of them, Cornutus, killed himself. The others allied themselves with Octavius. When Cicero learned this he sought an interview with Octavius through friends. When it was granted he defended himself and dwelt much upon his proposing Octavius for the consulship, as he had done in the Senate on a former occasion. Octavius answered ironically that Cicero seemed to be the last of his friends to greet him.

The next night a rumor gained currency that two of Octavius’ legions, the Martian and the Fourth, had gone over to the side of the republic, because they had been led against their country by deception. The praetors and the Senate put faith in this report heedlessly, although the army was very near, thinking that with the assistance of these two legions, as they were the bravest, it would be possible to hold out against the rest of Octavius’ army until some force from elsewhere should come to the rescue. The same night they sent Manius Aquilius Crassus to Picenum to raise troops, and ordered one of the tribunes, named Apuleius, to run through the city and proclaim the good news to the people. The senators assembled by night in the senate-house, and Cicero received them at the door, but when the news was contradicted he took flight in a litter.

Octavius laughed at them and moved his army nearer to the city and stationed it in the Campus Martius. He did not then punish any of the praetors, not even Crassus who had rushed off to Picenum, although the latter was brought before him just as he was caught, in the disguise of a slave. He pardoned all in order to acquire a reputation for clemency. But not long afterward they were put on the list of the proscribed. He ordered that the public money on the Janiculum or elsewhere be brought to him, and that the amount that had been previously ordered to be paid on the motion of Cicero be distributed; that is, he divided 2500 drachmas per man and promised to give them the remainder. Then he took his departure from the city until the consuls should be chosen by the comitia. Having been elected, together with Quintus Pedius, whom he desired to have as his colleague, and who had given to him his own portion of his inheritance from Caesar, he entered the city as consul. He offered the usual sacrifices, and twelve vultures were seen; the same number, they say, that appeared to Romulus when he laid the foundations of the city. After the sacrifices he caused his adoption by his father to be ratified again, according to the lex curiata, — that is, by a popular vote, — for the parts into which the tribes, or the common people, are divided are called curiae, just as I suppose the similar divisions among the Greeks are called phratriae. Among the Romans this was the method of adoption most in accordance with law in the case of orphans; and those who follow it have the same rights as real sons in respect of the relatives and the freedmen of the persons who adopt them. Among the other splendid accessories of Caesar was a large number of freedmen, many of them rich, and this was perhaps the principal reason why Octavius wanted the adoption by a vote of the people in addition to the former adoption which came to him by Caesar’s will.

He caused a new law to be passed to repeal the one which declared Dolabella a public enemy, and also to punish the murder of Caesar. Indictments were found forthwith, the friends of Caesar bringing accusations against some for actual participation in the crime and against others as having guilty knowledge only. Several were indicted, and among them some who were not in the city when Caesar was killed. One day was fixed by public proclamation for the trial of all, and judgment was taken against all by default while Octavius was overlooking the court. None of the judges voted for acquittal except one patrician, who then escaped with impunity, but was included with others in the proscription a little later. It appears that about this time Quintus Gallius, a city praetor and brother of Marcus Gallius, who was serving with Antony, asked Octavius for the command of Africa, and, being thus brought into his presence, attempted to take his life. His colleagues stripped him of his praetorship, the people tore his house down, and the Senate condemned him to death. Octavius ordered him to depart to his brother, and it is said that he took ship and was never seen again.

These things accomplished, Octavius formed plans for a reconciliation with Antony, for he had learned that Brutus and Cassius had already collected twenty legions of soldiers, and he needed Antony’s help against them. He moved out of the city toward the Adriatic coast and proceeded in a leisurely way, waiting to see what the Senate would do. Pedius persuaded the senators, after Octavius had taken his departure, not to make their differences with each other irremediable, but to be reconciled to Lepidus and Antony. They foresaw that such a reconciliation would not be for their advantage or for that of the country, but would be merely an assistance to Octavius against Brutus and Cassius. Nevertheless, they gave their approval and assent to it as a matter of necessity. So the decrees declaring Antony and Lepidus, and the soldiers under them, public enemies, were repealed, and others of a peaceful nature were sent to them. Thereupon Octavius wrote and congratulated them, and he promised to lend assistance to Antony against Decimus Brutus if he needed it. They replied to him at once in a friendly spirit and eulogized him. Antony wrote that he would himself take vengeance on Decimus for Caesar’s account and on Plancus for his own, and that then he would join forces with Octavius.

Such were the letters which they exchanged with each other. While pursuing Decimus, Antony was joined by Asinius Pollio with two legions. Asinius also brought about an arrangement with Plancus, by virtue of which the latter passed over to Antony with three legions, so that Antony now had much the strongest force. Decimus had ten legions, of whom four, the most experienced in war, had suffered severely from famine and were still enfeebled. The other six were new levies, still untrained and unaccustomed to their labors. As he despaired of fighting, he decided to flee to Marcus Brutus in Macedonia. He retreated not by the higher Alps, but toward Ravenna and Aquileia. Since Caesar had travelled by this route, Decimus proposed another longer and more difficult one — to cross the Rhine and traverse the wild country of barbarian tribes. Thereupon the new levies, bewildered and fatigued, were the first to desert him and join Octavius. After them the four older legions joined Antony, and the auxiliaries did the same, except a body-guard of Gallic horse. Then Decimus allowed those who wished to do so to return to their own homes, and, after distributing among them the gold he had with him, proceeded toward the Rhine with 300 followers, the only ones who remained. As it was difficult to cross the river with so few, he was now abandoned by all the others except ten. He put on Gallic clothing, and, as he was acquainted with the language, he proceeded on his journey with these, passing himself off as a Gaul. He no longer followed the longer route, but went toward Aquileia, thinking that he should escape notice by reason of the smallness of his force.

Having been captured by robbers and bound, he asked them who was the chief of this Gallic tribe. He was informed that it was Camillus, a man to whom he had done many favors. So he told them to bring him to Camillus. When the latter saw him led in, he greeted him in a friendly way in public, and scolded those who had bound him, for putting an indignity on so great a man through ignorance; but he sent word to Antony secretly. Antony was some-what touched by this change of fortune, and was not willing to see Decimus, but he ordered Camillus to kill him and send his head to himself. When he saw the head he ordered his attendants to bury it. Such was the end of Decimus, who had been Caesar’s praefect of horse and had governed Farther Gaul under him and had been designated by him for the consulship the coming year and for the governorship of Hither Gaul. He was the next of the murderers after Trebonius to meet punishment, within a year and a half of the assassination. About the same time Minucius Basilus, another of Caesar’s murderers, was killed by his slaves, some of whom he was castrating by way of punishment.

WHEN I heard of the death of Trebonius I was both glad and sorry. It rejoiced me to know-that a wretch had paid the penalty due to the ashes and bones of the most illustrious of men, and that the vengeance of the gods had overtaken him within the term of the revolving year, and that punishment for the parricidal act is either accomplished or impending. I mourn that Dolabella was voted an enemy as soon as he had put the assassin to death, and that the son of a buffoon should seem dearer to the Roman people than Gaius Caesar, the father of his country. Most grievous is it that you, Aulus Hirtius, loaded as you are with Caesar’s benefactions, and left by him in a condition that must be a surprise to yourself, and you, O boy, who owe everything to his name, should so conduct yourselves that Dolabella should be condemned by law, and this pest [Decimus Brutus] delivered from siege, and Brutus and Cassius strengthened as much as possible. You look upon the present state of things too much as you have viewed the past. You call Pompey’s camp the Senate. You have taken the vanquished Cicero for a leader. You are strengthening Macedonia with armies. You have placed Africa in charge of Varus, who was twice taken prisoner. You have sent Cassius into Syria. You have allowed Casca to hold the tribuneship. You have taken away the revenues of the Luperci assigned to them by Caesar. You have abolished the colonies of veterans established by law and senatus consultum. You promise to restore to the Massilians what was taken from them by the law of war. Do you forget that under the law of Hirtius no Pompeian who lives can hold office? You have supplied Brutus with the money of Apuleius. You applauded the execution of Paetus and Menedemus, Caesar’s hosts, who had been given the citizenship by him. You took no notice of Theopompus when he was stripped and driven out by Trebonius and fled to Alexandria. You tolerate Servius Galba in your camp girded with the same dagger [with which he stabbed Caesar]. You have enlisted my soldiers and the veterans under pretence of exterminating those who killed Caesar, and have hurled them, in ignorance of what they were doing, against their quaestor, their general, their comrades. In short, what have you not approved of, what have you not done, that Pompey himself would do if he could come to life, or his son if he were at home? Finally, you say that peace is not possible unless I let Brutus go free or supply him with corn. What? Is this the opinion of those veterans who can still choose their own course? Since you have sold yourselves for adulation and poisoned gifts,... But you say you are bringing aid to beleaguered soldiers. I will not hinder them from escaping and going where they please if they will let that man perish who has deserved to perish. You write me that mention has been made of peace in the Senate, and of five ambassadors of consular rank. It is hard to believe that those who drove me headlong when I offered the fairest conditions, and was even thinking of abating some part of them, can contemplate any moderate or humane act. It is hardly probable that those who voted Dolabella an enemy for his most righteous deed could spare me, who hold the same sentiments with him. Wherefore you ought rather to reflect whether it is more fitting, and more useful to our party, to avenge the death of Trebonius or that of Caesar, and whether it is more equitable for us to compete with each other in bringing to life the cause of Pompey that has so often had its throat cut, or to combine, so that we be not a laughing-stock to our enemies, who will be the gainers whichever of us shall fall. Fortune itself has thus far shunned that spectacle, that it might not behold two armies belonging to one body fighting each other, with Cicero for trainer, who is a happy man in so far as he can deceive you with the same compliments with which he boasted that he deceived Caesar. I am resolved to endure no affront either to myself or to my friends, nor to desert the party that Pompey hated, nor to allow the veterans to be moved from their settlements or be put to the torture one by one; nor shall I come short of the faith I pledged to Dolabella, nor violate my alliance with Lepidus, that most conscientious man, nor betray Plancus, the partner of my counsels. If the immortal gods aid me, as I hope, in my righteous course, I shall be glad to live; but if another fate awaits me I shall enjoy your punishment in advance, for if the Pompeians are so insolent when vanquished, what they will be when victorious you will learn by experience rather than myself. Finally, the sum and substance of my decision is this, I can bear the injuries that my friends have done me if they are willing to forget that they have done them, or if they are ready to join me in avenging Caesar’s death. I do not believe that ambassadors are coming to the theatre of war. When they do come I shall know what they demand.